I always suspected my husband was having an affair. People called me mad when I decided to give his mistress a job.
When I found the messages between my husband and the other woman, I didnt cry. I didnt scream. I simply smiled. As the CEO of a leading British consultancy firm, I devised a plan far more elegant than any public scene.
Two weeks later, I posted an advert for an executive assistant. She applied. Her CV was mediocre at best, but her photograph matched the woman in those clandestine selfies on my husbands phone.
On the day of the interview, I walked into the boardroom wearing my sharpest navy suit.
Youre the candidate, arent you? Do sit down.
She looked at me with no flicker of recognition. Of course not. Hed never shown her a photograph of me. Most likely, hed painted me as some ghastly, bitter wife at home.
What attracts you to this job? I asked gently.
Your firm has an excellent reputation and
Call me boss, I cut in, offering a brilliant smile. Were like family here.
I hired her on the spot.
The next months were pure theatre. To her credit, she worked diligently. But nothing thrilled me quite like watching her every morning in the office while my husband left our home, completely unaware that two hours later Id be sharing a coffee with his lover.
Are you married? she asked, one day as we pored over contracts.
Yes, and very happily, I replied, calm as a lake. What about you? Boyfriend?
She flushed deep red.
Its complicated. Hes in a difficult situation.
Hes married, I said breezily. Classic.
Hes not! He loves me, its just
Dont worry, no judgement here. The heart wants what it wants, right?
Over dinner, my husband would ask how my day had gone. Id regale him with office anecdotes, casually mentioning my new assistantremarkably focused, really. He never suspected a thing. Men who cheat are astonishingly naïve.
On her sixth month, I promoted her.
Youve done a superb job. Id like you to head our new Asian branch. Its a one-of-a-kind opportunity. Youll get an 80% pay rise, company flat, three-year contract.
Her eyes sparkled with hope.
Abroad? But I I have someone here.
Long-distance works if its real, I said softly, touching her arm. And if it doesnt, well, it was never worth it. Trust me, I know.
My husband was unbearable those weeks. Id hear them fighting on the phone while I pretended to be drifting asleep. Eventually, she left, weeping at Heathrow, or so my driver accidentally happened to report.
Her overseas project was a roaring success. She sent flawless updates. My husband, riddled with guilt, became attentive again, showering me with flowers and planning candlelit dinners, even talking of renewing our wedding vows.
How touching.
Exactly a year after hiring her, I rang her on a video call.
We need to talk.
Her face tensed.
Im afraid we have to terminate your contract. Restructuring. You know how it is.
What? But I gave up everything for this! My whole life!
I know. Such a shame to abandon a certain complicated man for this, I replied, pausing ever so slightly. By the waygive my best to him when you return, though I doubt hell be there. Hes rather busy these days, planning our vow renewal.
For a moment, there was a divine silence. Her face twisted from shock to horror as the realisation struck.
You you knew
From the start. Your severance package is waiting. My advicespend it on therapy. And, next time a married man tells you his wife doesnt understand him, ask if she manages budgets worth tens of millions of pounds. Because a woman like that understands far more than hell ever admit.
I ended the call.
That evening, my husband returned home carrying a bottle of champagne.
A celebration! Its a year to the day since everything between us began to feel right again.
I raised a toast beside him and savoured every sip.
I never told him. Why shatter his fragile peace of mind? Id had my catharsis. And he never realised that true revenge was always aimed directly at him.
So tell medo you think a cold, carefully-measured revenge is better than open confrontation, or is honesty always the best policy?
