I’ve always been aware of my husband’s affair… And one day, I came up with the perfect plan for revenge.
It’s true what they say – nothing stays hidden forever. I had known for a long time that my husband had someone else. He thought he was being clever with his late nights at work, phone on silent, and sudden “business trips.” But a woman can feel these things, and I certainly did. I kept quiet. Not out of weakness, but because I was gathering strength. I needed time to strike with precision, coldly and permanently.
I wasn’t interested in drama, humiliation, or pity. I wanted revenge that he would remember for the rest of his life. And I got it.
First, I filed for divorce without his knowledge. I handled everything quietly, expertly, and legally. I simply destroyed the summons that came in the mail, all three of them. He never saw a single one. When the court issued the decree, he was completely oblivious. We were officially no longer husband and wife. Swift and silent, just as I planned.
The second part of my plan was more challenging, but I handled it. I convinced him to take out a loan, supposedly for the down payment on a new flat we were going to buy together. He hesitated a little, but I was more convincing than ever. He got the money and stashed it in a box in our wardrobe, so it would be “easier to pay the whole amount at once.”
The next day, I left with our son to stay with my mom, discreetly taking all the money from the box before leaving. He had no idea what had happened. That evening, he called me, his voice full of panic, explaining how the money had vanished and claiming that his mistress must have taken it. He was full of regret and apologies.
I played the role of the scorned wife flawlessly: tears, accusations, and shouting followed by throwing him out of the house. He left, completely unaware that we were already divorced. By the time he stormed out, I had already rented a cozy place in Brighton where my son and I began our new life. The money from that box covered several months of rent.
The next day, he returned with a bouquet of roses, red-eyed and full of pleas for forgiveness. But instead of the reconciliation he hoped for, I handed him the divorce papers. He flew into a rage, yelling about how I’d never survive without him and how I’d regret my decision within a week.
I quietly closed the door behind him.
Later, I found out he tried to return to that woman, but she turned him away as soon as she learned about his debts. Debts from the loan he took “for us” – or rather, for himself.
Now, he lives with his mother, drowning in debt, dreaming of winning me back. But that will never happen. I’ve broken free, wiped the slate clean. I destroyed him just as he once destroyed me.
Now, there’s a new life for me. One with no lies or betrayal. I am in a cozy home with my son, making plans and breathing deeply, without a shadow of regret for my actions. Revenge isn’t always about malice. Sometimes it’s about liberation. And yes, my plan worked flawlessly.
I won.
