He played me, so I played him right back. When I found out about his cheating, I was devastated. The man I had trusted with my heart had been deceiving me, sneaking around behind my back, whispering sweet lies while sharing his body with someone else. At first, I was crushed—humiliated by the realization that the love I had cherished was nothing more than an illusion. But once the initial shock wore off, something inside me hardened.

I could have confronted him. I could have screamed, cried, begged for answers. But why give him that satisfaction? He had broken me, but I refused to be the only one left in pieces. If he thought betrayal was a game, then I would make sure he knew exactly what it felt like to lose.

I didn’t rush into it. No, I was patient. I let him believe I was none the wiser, playing the role of the devoted wife while quietly rewriting the rules. And then, when the moment was right, I found someone. A man who made me feel seen again, who reminded me of the woman I was before my husband’s lies dimmed my light.

When my husband finally discovered my secret, his reaction was almost comical. Anger, disbelief, betrayal flashing in his eyes. “How could you do this?” he demanded.

I simply smiled. “I learned from the best.”

And just like that, the game was no longer his to control.