I’ve always known about my husband’s affair… And one day, I crafted the perfect plan for revenge.
It’s true what they say—nothing stays hidden forever. I had been aware for a long time that my husband had someone else. He thought he was covering it up well: late nights at work, phone switched off, sudden “business trips.” But a woman knows. And I knew. I stayed silent. Not because I was weak, but because I was gathering strength. I needed time to strike precisely, coldly, and permanently.
I didn’t want any scandals, humiliation, or pity. I wanted revenge that he would remember for the rest of his life. And I achieved that.
First, I filed for divorce—without him knowing. I did everything quietly, smartly, and legally. The summons that came in the mail, I simply destroyed. All three. He didn’t see a single one. By the time the court ruled, he was clueless. We were officially no longer husband and wife. Quick and silent, just as I intended.
The second part of my plan was more complicated, but I managed. I convinced him to take out a loan—supposedly for a deposit on a new house for us. He had some doubts, but I was more persuasive than ever. He got the money and put it in a box in our wardrobe, so it’d be “easier to pay the full amount.”
The next day, I left for my mother’s with our son, discreetly taking all the money from the box. He didn’t even realize what had happened. By the evening, he was calling me with a frantic voice, saying the money had vanished. He was sure his mistress had taken it. He was full of regret and was begging for forgiveness.
I played the role of the wronged wife to perfection: tears, accusations, shouting. Then I kicked him out of the house. He left, having no clue we were already divorced. By that time, I’d rented a charming flat in Manchester, where my son and I began our new life. The money from that box covered the rent for several months.
The following day, he returned—with a bouquet of roses, tearful eyes, pleading for forgiveness. But instead of reconciliation, he received divorce papers from me. He threw a fit, yelling that I would fail without him, that I wouldn’t manage, and that I’d regret it within a week.
I quietly closed the door behind him.
Later, I learned he tried to go back to that woman, but she turned her back on him as soon as she found out about his debts. The very debts he took on for us. Or rather, for himself.
Now, he’s living with his mother, drowning in debt, dreaming of winning me back. But that will never happen. I’m free. I’ve burned everything down. I destroyed him the same way he once destroyed me.
Now, I have a new life. No lies. No betrayal. I’m with my son in a cozy home, making plans, breathing freely, and not regretting my actions one bit. Revenge isn’t always evil. Sometimes it’s liberation. And yes, my plan worked flawlessly.
I’ve won.
