**Betrayal Beyond Repair: A Cold and Calculated Revenge**
Thirty-five years together. Nearly half a lifetime. James and Emily. It began like something out of an old noveldancing in the rain, talking until dawn, dreaming of a house with a garden. Emily was petite, delicate, quiet, but with a will of steel. James, ambitious, fire in his eyes, always reaching for more.
They weathered poverty, debt, moves across towns, losses. When James built his business from scratch, it was Emily who held everything togetherhome, children, bills, illness. When success finally came, bringing comfort and stability, James fell in love. With his new secretary, tall and leggy, who laughed at his jokes and lingered just a second too long when she touched his arm.
He acted fast. Hired expensive solicitors to keep the housethe one built brick by brick, renovated by their own hands, where Emily had planted roses and embroidered cushions. The home that had once been their shared dream.
The court awarded the house to James. Emily had two months to leave. But she was gone in two days. No tears, no dramatics. Silent. She packed her bags, called the movers. And as her farewell, she scattered crumbs of boiled codbehind curtains, under windowsills, inside the vents. Leftovers from the farewell dinner shed made for herself, alone at the empty table.
Jamess new love moved into the “dream home” days later. Everything seemed perfect: the light, the space, the fireplace, the veranda. But within 24 hours, a putrid stench seeped through the walls. Nothing could rid the smellnot deep cleaning, not incense, not renovations.
The stench grew worse. They scrubbed floors, replaced carpets, kept windows open. Bought air purifiers. Useless. Friends stopped visiting. No one could stand it.
James tried to sell. But word spread through the village. Buyers fled after ten minutes. Estate agents refused to help. The house had become a curse.
The couple took out a hefty loan for a new home. The money ran out. Then Emily called:
*”How are things, James?”*
*”Dreadful,”* he admitted, broken. *”The house wont sell. Were ruined.”*
*”How odd,”* she replied, calm. *”You know, I miss that house. Would you sell it to me? For say, 10% of its value?”*
James nearly wept with relief. He agreed instantly. Ten percent? A small price to escape the nightmare.
The next day, Emily arrived with a notary. Papers signed in minutes. The couple left for their new home. She stepped inside the empty house, took a deep breathand smiled for the first time in years.
But the story didnt end there.
The couple took everything from their old home: furniture, curtains, even the curtain rods! Especially the rods. James wouldnt leave a single thing for his ex-wife. He dismantled them himself. And with them, he carried the source of the smell.
In their new home, the stench appeared the next morning.
Emily knew it would. And she never called again.
Now, in her own house, she enjoys silence, clean walls, and blooming roses. While James lives in a self-inflicted curse. For betrayal. For pride. For forgetting who stood by him when he had nothing.
