Hearing footsteps, Olivia swiftly deleted the message on the phonesomething about the sender missing her terribly and counting the days till their next meetingthen placed it back on the nightstand where it had been.
She kept rereading the text on her husbands phone, unable to believe it wasnt some twisted dream. Her rock, her love, her dear *Paul* was cheating on her *again*.
And not even with some young, glamorous model-type, as he usually did. This time, his mistress was a woman *fifteen years* older than him.
Paul strolled in, whistling. His company had just handed out hefty bonuses, which meant he could finally buy Olivia a proper anniversary gift *and* whisk his new fling, Natalie, off to the seaside.
The thought of Natalie made him grin. Hed had his share of affairsfresh-faced girls, divorcees, even married womenbut none like Natalie. She was a colleague, a bit plump, but oh, the way she dressed, the way she carried herself, the way she *spoke* and the way she was when they were alone. Shame about the wrinkles, but she was still in her prime, and he intended to enjoy every last drop.
Spotting the storm brewing on Olivias face, Paul snapped back to reality.
“Everything alright? You look off.”
“Fine,” she said flatly. “Just thinking about the anniversary. Could you give me some money to organise the party?”
“Of course, love.”
Olivia didnt understand herself. In the past, shed thrown screaming fits at the first whiff of an affair, threatening divorce. Now? She acted like nothing had happened, like she hadnt just read *that* message.
Paul grabbed his phone, made a show of calling a colleague about work, then slipped onto the balcony to send Natalie a few *steamy* texts. Olivia forced calm. She knew tears and tantrums changed nothing.
This wasnt his first betrayal. Hed once blamed *her*the weight after childbirth, letting herself go. Yet now? She was in peak shapetoned, glossy-haired, effortlessly elegant. She couldve passed for a telenovela star.
Her friends didnt get it. She came from money, had her own careershe wouldnt starve with three kids. But no, she endured Pauls infidelities, only occasionally snapping before his parents swooped in to defend him.
“Look at poor Mrs. Thompson next door,” his mother would say. “Widowed, working two jobs, *and* sewing at night. Or Veraher husbands a drunk, she wears rags, the kids do too!”
“But”
“No *buts*! You live like royalty! A full house, designer clothes, no job. So what if he strays? Mr. Jenkins had his fun back in the daydid *I* nag? Men are like catswarmth and affection keep them home. Scold them, and theyll bolt. Now *hes* a model husband. So stop whinging and make sure Paul doesnt *want* to look elsewhere.”
Olivia smirked. Shed *seen* her father-in-law leaving Mrs. Thompsons just last week. Some model husband.
“Margarets right,” his dad would chime in. “If hes straying, *youre* lacking. My wife ever yelled like you? Idve put her in her place. Dont like it? The doors that way.”
His mother would simper. Olivias stomach turned. Her own parents adored each otherno lies, no double lives. *No one* deserved to be cheated on. So why was it *her* fault?
How many tears had she shed? How much money wasted on fortune-tellers promising to “fix” him? Useless.
Her friends begged her to leave. But where? Her brother lived with his wife at her parents. Renting? Could she afford it? She hadnt worked in years. Three kids werent cheap. And she *loved* him. Theyd been together since primary schoolfirst loves, inseparable.
Maybe his mother was right. Maybe hed settle down. Maybe *she* had driven him to this.
Then she remembered *that* text and wanted to scream. Before, it was her “weight.” Now? What was wrong? And what did this *older woman* have that she didnt?
Their anniversary loomedten years. And here he was, at it again.
Grabbing her phone, Olivia scrolled party planners sites, jotting numbers. One call later, she had a meeting.
The next day, *Leonard*, the co-owner, arrived. Apologising for his absent colleague, he flipped open a catalogue.
“We do bespoke events. Any ideas? Whats your husband into? Fishing? Cars? Sports?”
“Women. And cheating.”
“Pardon?”
“My husband *adores* women. Cant go a day without betraying me.”
The dam broke. Sobs racked her as café patrons stared.
“Why do you *tolerate* this? Youre enabling him! My younger sister *was* like you. Silent. Then she” His voice cracked. “No sister now. Just nephews Im raising. Youve kids?”
“Yes.”
“*Live* for them. Youll find work. A home. Lifes *once*. Dont waste it.”
Olivia dabbed her eyes. “Youre right.” She smiled weakly. “I know what gift to give Paul. Take notes.”
The next week, Olivia oversaw preparationsa lavish countryside villa, invites to friends, family, even Pauls colleagues (Natalie included). Leonard kept her steady. Shed learned not all men were like Paul. And his support? More than her parents ever gave.
Now, in a black lace dress, heels, flawless hair, she studied her reflection. *Gorgeous*. Leonard hugged her shoulders.
“Time. Still sure?”
“Positive. No going back.”
“Then Ill call the movers. Your thingsll be gone before they notice.”
The party was in full swing. Pauls parents held court, oblivious to Olivias absence. Paul, meanwhile, kept sneaking glances (and more) with Natalie in the loo. Oh yes, *Natalie* was invited. Part of the plan.
“Gift time!” Olivia announced. “Darling, ten years taught me one thingnever argue with a man like you. Accept him as he is. And thank you. Truly. For showing me what *real* marriage looks like.”
A giant cake rolled in. Out popped three womenblonde, brunette, redhead. Olivia watched Pauls stunned face, then whispered to Natalie:
“Think youre his only one? See how he *lights up* at them. Now look in a mirror.”
As Natalie paled, Olivia turned to her mother-in-law.
“Guess Mr. Jenkins *hasnt* stopped visiting Mrs. Thompson, has he?”
Before the sputtering began, Olivia faced Paul.
“Like your gift? Youve always loved varietyhow many was it? Three? Ten? Blondes, brunettes now Natalie. Your parents were right. No more scenes. Love this life? *Enjoy*. But Im done.”
Gasps filled the room. She took the kids hands and leftstraight to Leonards waiting car.
The divorce was tedious. Paul blamed *her*, yet fought it. Still, the papers came.
Friends gaped. How had meek Olivia pulled this off? SimplePaul funded it. His weekly transfers, the “party money”all hers now.
Years later, shes never regretted leaving. Remarried, adored, her kids loved as his own.
Lifes too short to stay where youre not valued. Cheating? Its settling for less while pretending theres more. Why cling to that?
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