Guess what? Turns out revenge is just as sweet as they say. When I first discovered my husband’s affair, it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me. The late nights at work, the sudden disinterest, the way he guarded his phone—it all made sense in a single, devastating moment. He had another woman.

At first, I was wrecked. I cried, I raged, I questioned everything. But then, something inside me shifted. Why should I be the only one suffering? Why should he get to betray me and walk away without consequences? No, that wasn’t how this was going to play out.

So, I decided to even the score.

I didn’t go searching for someone—it just happened. A charming stranger, a spontaneous conversation, a lingering touch that reminded me I was still desirable. What started as a reckless idea soon turned into something thrilling. For the first time in years, I felt alive, powerful, and in control.

Then came the moment of truth. My husband found out. His face drained of color, his arrogance crumbling in real-time. “How could you do this to me?” he stammered, as if his own betrayal had never existed.

I simply smirked. “Just following your lead, darling.”

He thought he had the upper hand. But now, he was the one left broken—and I was the one walking away.