I Discovered He was a Cheater So I Got a Perfect Revenge – Story from Subscriber
A young wife discovers her husband is having an affair and she makes a plan to teach him a lesson he will never forget.
When I met Michael he had just divorced his first wife. He was just adorable, you know? The sweetest guy with the cutest dimples and I just fell for him straight away.
So... We started dating and one thing led to another, and before I knew it I was married, with three stepchildren, and a mangy cat. Another thing I didn't know was that Michael was a compulsive cheater...
Married life wasn't quite what I'd imagined it would be. I thought there would be lots of cozy evenings, sitting around sipping wine after dinner, talking about our respective day?
Forget it. By the time the honeymoon was over, so was the romance. Michael started working late, and his ex-wife started dating and his kids started spending every weekend with us.
I wouldn't have minded, really, but they are absolute little monsters. Tiana is 15, and she hates me. She hates the world, basically, but me especially. In the beginning, I had a talk, told her when I met her dad he was already divorced?
I wasn't the one he'd cheated with. She didn't care. I was replacing her mother, so I was the enemy. Mike Jr. is 13, and he lives playing video games which would be OK -- keep him out of my hair? But he expects to be waited on hand and foot and he's not polite about it.
The littlest one is Sammy. At first sight, he's this cute four-year-old but in reality, he's the devil. Sammy can't be left alone for a second. He's the reason the cat has lost half his hair.
He got hold of my cold wax strips and used them on the cat. Poor cat. Poor me. And did I mention he also wets the bed? Yup. It's an adventure every weekend, but I loved Michael, so I was calm and loving and prayed a lot.
Not that Michael was ever there. He started playing golf, going fishing...Anything to get out of the house and away from the chaos, or so I thought. It wouldn't be long before my final illusions were shattered.
Michael came home one Wednesday and told me he'd be going to Atlantic City for a work seminar on Friday morning, and wouldn't be back before Monday. I panicked.
"But the children," I whined, "You have to call Dorothy..." but he just shook his head. Dorothy had already said this was his weekend, so no dice. I was getting stuck with the three terrors on my own.
Thursday night, Michael was in the shower and I was packing his bag when his phone rang. A few minutes later, a series of pings announced a flurry of messages.
I hesitated, then I did the wrong thing, the thing my mother told me nice girls never do? I read the messages. To make a long story short, it was from a woman called Amber, telling him she'd confirmed their getaway.
She had managed to convince someone to rent them a romantic little seaside cottage on the Jersey shore, an hour's drive from the city. The address followed, along with a description of what Amber intended to do to him once they got there.
Instead of falling apart when she discovered her husband's cheating, our reader kept her cool and came up with the perfect revenge.
I carefully replaced the phone where Michael had left it and went down to finish fixing dinner. While I turned the roast, I started planing on how to fix Michael, teach him a lesson he'd never forget.
When Dorothy dropped off the children at 7:00 am Saturday I was ready. As soon as they got out of the car I announced that they were going to be spending the weekend on the beach.
Before they could protest, I bundled them into my car, punched in the address Amber had sent Michael, and was on my way. An hour and a half later, I was pulling up in front of the most adorable, romantic cottage.
Michael's car was parked out front, next to the kind of sleek little red convertible single girls with long nails and short skirts usually drive. I got out of the car and shoved the kids out.
Tiana was tossing her hair, looking sour, Mike Jr. was playing some game on his phone, and Sammy was sticking some object up his nose. I didn't look too closely.
"Children," I said brightly, "Dad's already here. I need to go pick up some groceries, so you go on, ring the bell. I'll be back soon!" I shoved their bags into their hands and pushed them towards the door.
I hopped into my car and drove off giggling. When Michael opened that door his sexy weekend would be over, and Amber would get a taste of what life with Michael is REALLY like.
I spent my own weekend at a spa pampering myself and making some plans. Sunday evening I was relaxing with a glass of bubbly when I heard Michael's car in the driveway.
A few minutes later he walked in. He looked contrite and hangdog. "Babe," he whined, "I'm so sorry..." I just smiled at him, took a sip of my Champagne, and waited for the excuses.
There were many, and not very original, so I won't go into it. The weekend was a disaster. The kids were in character, and Amber left on Sunday morning never to be seen again.
Michael had dropped the children with Dorothy and had hurried home to repair the damage. He asked me to forgive him. He cried and blubbered. He didn't look that handsome anymore.
He told me he loved me, and I told him I was divorcing him, and his children, and that he could pick up his suitcases from the garage where they were waiting for him since Saturday.
And that was that. I am now dating the sweetest man and things are looking very promising. Yes, he has children, two little girls, but they are adorable and we've been talking about having a baby together.
I hear Dorothy has remarried, moved to Alaska, and left Tiana, Junior, and Sammy with Michael. Sometimes there is justice in this world...
What can we learn from this story?
1. Once a cheater always a cheater. If a man has cheated on a previous relationship, he will cheat again, and on you this time.
2. Be cool and make a plan for the future. Instead of falling apart when she discovered her husband's cheating, our reader kept her cool and came up with the perfect revenge.
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Any resemblance in this story to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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