After my husband betrayed me with my best friend, I couldnt stop smiling when I ran into them three years later.
When my husband began pulling away, I turned to my closest friend for comfort. She insisted I was imagining things, but I wasnt. Fate made sure I saw the consequences of their betrayal firsthand.
I used to think infidelity only happened to otherssomething you read about in dramatic novels or overhear in hushed gossip. Not to me. Not to us.
For five years, Edward and I built a life together. It wasnt lavish, but it was ourscosy evenings curled up with films, Sunday morning coffee runs, inside jokes only we understood.
Throughout it all, there was Sophiemy best friend since school, like a sister to me. She was there for every milestone, even standing beside me as my bridesmaid, holding my hands as I cried happy tears.
When I found out I was pregnant, I thought it would be another beautiful chapter in our story.
But then Edward changed.
At first, it was small thingslate nights at work, smiles that never reached his eyes. Then it got worse. He barely looked at me. Conversations dwindled to one-word answers. Nights spent with his back to me, as if I didnt exist.
I didnt understand. Exhausted and heavily pregnant, I desperately tried to fix whatever was crumbling between us. So I called Sophie.
*”I dont understand whats happening,”* I sobbed into the phone, curled up in the dark while Edward slept soundly beside me. *”Its like hes already left.”*
*”Youre overthinking it,”* she said gently. *”He loves you. Its just stress.”*
I wanted to believe her.
But the constant strainsleepless nights, anxiety, loneliness despite being marriedwore me down.
Then, one morning, I woke in pain. By evening, I was in hospital, watching the doctors lips move but hearing nothing.
*No heartbeat. No baby.*
They say grief comes in waves. Mine was an avalanche.
The miscarriage shattered me, but Edward? He was already gone. He sat beside me in that hospital room, cold and silent, never taking my hand, never offering a word of comfort. Just waiting, as if for a bus, not mourning the loss of our child.
A month later, he finally said the words I think hed been rehearsing.
*”Im not happy anymore, Emma.”*
And that was it. No explanations, no emotion. Just an empty farewell.
The day he left was without arguments, without shouting, without tears. Just cold silence.
*”Im not happy anymore, Emma.”*
I blinked at him across the kitchen table, his words pressing against my chest like a weight.
*”What?”* I whispered, voice trembling.
He sighed, rubbing his temples as if *I* were the problem.
*”I dont feel anything. Havent for a while.”*
*Havent for a while.*
I swallowed hard.
*”Since we lost the baby?”*
His jaw tightened.
*”Thats not the point.”*
The lie was almost laughable.
I searched his face for any signremorse, guilt, anything. But he just sat there, refusing to meet my eyes.
*”Thats it? Five years, and you just walk away?”* My hands clenched under the table.
He sighed again, this time impatiently.
*”I dont want to argue, Emma.”*
I laughedthat sharp, hollow laugh that comes when youre past breaking.
*”Oh, you dont want to argue? Funny, because I never got a choice in any of this.”*
He stood, grabbing his keys.
*”Ill stay with friends.”*
Before I could respond, the door slammed.
Sophie, my best friend, followed soon after. She had been my rock, but then she just vanished. No calls answered. Messages ignored. Then, she blocked me everywhere.
I didnt understanduntil I did.
Mum found out first. One evening, she called, her voice tense.
*”Emma, love look at this.”*
She sent me a link to Sophies Instagram.
And there they were.
Edward and Sophie. Arms around each other on a beach, laughing as if theyd been in love for years.
My hands shook as I scrolled. Picture after picture, week after week. Fancy restaurants, ski resorts, romantic evenings by the fire. Shed posted it allopenlywhile I was still his wife.
The betrayal burned like acid. But if they thought it would destroy me, they were wrong.
I took my pain and turned it into power. Edward had been careless, too lost in his fantasy to cover his tracks. In court, his infidelity became my trump card. In the end, I kept the house, half his money, and the satisfaction of knowing he had to start over.
He took my trust. I took what was mine.
Starting again wasnt easy. But life rewards the resilient.
A year later, I met James.
He wasnt just different from Edwardhe was everything Edward wasnt. Kind. Patient. He never made me feel like my emotions were too much.
We built a life. A real one, not curated for social media. Soon, our daughter was bornmy mirror image with his smile.
Then fate gave me the perfect ending.
One evening, I stopped at a petrol station. And there they were.
Edward and Sophie.
But now, no designer clothes, no staged happiness. Their cara rusted wreck. Arguing in the shop, their child crying, a declined card at the till.
*”We dont even have money for petrol?”* Sophie whined.
*”You knew we were struggling,”* Edward snapped.
Sophie scoffed.
*”Guess Emma won this one.”*
I started the engine and drove home. To my real happiness.
