“Hey love, can you pick me up from work?” Emily called her husband, hoping to skip the exhausting forty-minute bus ride after a long day.
“Sorry, Im busy,” James replied sharply. In the background, the TV blaredproof he was just lounging at home.
Emily felt a deep sadness. Their marriage was falling apart, and just six months ago, James had promised to carry her through life. What had changed so fast? She had no clue.
She took care of herself, spending hours at the gym. Cooked brilliantlyno surprise, since she worked at a cosy local restaurant. Never asked for money, never made a fuss, always ready to fulfil his every wish
“Youll wear him out like this,” her mum would say, hearing her complaints. “You cant spoil a man rotten.”
“I just love him,” Emily would answer with a helpless smile. “And he loves me too”
*****
Turns out, he *had* worn out. Emily bit her lip as she scrolled through his browser history. James spent all his free time on dating sites, chatting up multiple women. “Why not just tell me?” she wondered. “Id have understood. Why make us both miserable?”
So, divorce. She was strongshed get through it. But not without a little payback
That same night, Emily signed up for the same site, found James, and started messaging. She grabbed a random photo online, touched it up, and knew hed take the bait. And he did.
The flirting was intense. James claimed he was single, ready for commitment, even kids. Bragged about his “golden heart,” which made Emily laugh till her ribs ached. She knew exactly how difficult he really was.
“Lets meet,” she typed, grinning at the screen.
“Perfect,” he replied instantly. “But my sisters crashing at mine for uni exams. Lets meet somewhere quiet, then head to a hotel?”
“Seriously?” Emily muttered. “Whod agree to that straight off? But fineworks for me.”
“Come to my place instead? Ive got a cottage outside town, totally private” She held her breath. Would he bite?
“Brilliant!” James clearly loved not spending a penny. “Address and time?”
“25 Oak Lane, 10 PM. Sound good?”
“See you there!”
At 9 PM, James pretended work had called him out. He couldnt find his car keys and reluctantly asked Emily if shed seen them.
“They were on the table,” she said innocently, the keys tucked in her pocket. “Maybe the cat took them?”
But Emily wasnt waiting around. She packed her thingsthankfully, she still had her grans old flat. The only thing left behind? Divorce papers on the table, in plain sight.
James stumbled home the next morning, furious. The “date” had been a disasterover an hour to reach some remote cottage, only to find the “stunning blonde” from the photo was, in fact, a woman twice his size in a see-through robe. Hed have paid *anything* to unsee that.
It took a taxi, an icy wait in his thin jacket, and a dodgy detour before he finally made it back. And there, on the table, next to the divorce papers? Scrawled in lipstick:
“Sweet revenge, love.”
