Deception, betrayal, and a meticulously crafted plan for revenge are at the heart of my story. I thought I knew my husband until I stumbled upon his online escapades. Little did he know his secret affair was about to become the key to my liberation.
The day my friend sent me a link to my husband’s Tinder profile, I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Dexter, my husband of ten years, was out there pretending to be single, swiping left and right like a teenager. Fury, confusion, and betrayal hit me all at once.
As days went by, my anger turned cold and calculating. I knew I couldn’t just confront him and have a big fight. That wouldn’t solve anything, especially since I had no job and no source of income after years of taking care of the house and our kids.
I needed a plan. I decided to create a fake Tinder account using photos of a random woman. Let’s call her Leah. It was easy to set up, but finding Dexter’s profile took some time and a lot of nerves.
Finally, his profile came up, with him smiling that same smile that had once made me fall in love. I took a deep breath as I swiped right. Fortunately, we matched right away. GAME ON!
The first step was to build a connection. I knew everything about Dexter: his favorite movie (“The Godfather”), his favorite whiskey (Glenfiddich), and even his secret love for 80s pop music. Using Leah’s profile, I mirrored his interests and crafted a persona that would be irresistible to him.
I made sure to mention my love for “The Godfather” in my bio and put up a picture of Leah holding a glass of Glenfiddich. I knew exactly how to pull him in. We started chatting, and he took the bait. Our conversations were filled with flirty banter and deep talks about life.
“Wow, you love ‘The Godfather’ too?” Dexter messaged. “It’s my all-time favorite movie.”
I replied as Leah, “Yes, it’s a masterpiece! And Glenfiddich is my go-to drink while watching it. What about you?”
“Same here,” he wrote back. “Nothing beats a good movie and a great whiskey.”
He told Leah about his dreams and fears, things he hadn’t shared with me in years. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m stuck in a rut,” he confided one evening. “I have all these plans, but I can’t seem to make them happen.”
“I’m here for you,” I typed. “You can talk to me about anything.”
Every evening, I’d sit on the couch next to him, pretending to scroll through my phone while he texted Leah. It was surreal, living under the same roof and harboring so many secrets. I’d glance at him out of the corner of my eye, watching as he smiled at his phone, completely engrossed in his messages to Leah.
After a few weeks of daily chats, I knew he was hooked. It was time for phase two: gaining his trust. I started hinting at financial troubles, weaving tales of sudden car repairs and unexpected medical bills.
Over the next few days, I continued to spin stories of desperation to Dexter through Leah’s account. He was eager to help, wanting to be her knight in shining armor. It didn’t take long for him to start transferring money to the account I had set up.
“I don’t ever want you to feel alone, Leah. You can always count on me,” he texted Leah one day while sitting right next to me. “Remember, I’m only a message away.”
This Dexter that I had come to know as Leah was someone I didn’t recognize as Phoebe. It pained me to continue the game, but I knew I had to keep going.
Each sob story I fed him made him more determined to save this imaginary woman. Living this double life was exhausting but thrilling. Every day, I played the devoted wife, making breakfast for our kids and chatting with Dexter about his day at work.
Every night, I transformed into Leah, the damsel in distress who had him wrapped around her finger. “Dex, I don’t know how to thank you enough,” I texted. “You’ve been my rock through all of this.”
“I just want to see you happy,” he responded. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I watched as he fell deeper into the trap, blinded by his infatuation and guilt. He was constantly checking his phone, eager for Leah’s messages, completely unaware of the truth that lay just beneath the surface.
The third step was all about increasing the stakes. With his trust secured, I began to ask for larger amounts, weaving elaborate stories that played on his desire to be a hero. One evening, I texted him as Leah, “Dex, I don’t know what to do. My car broke down, and the repair costs are way more than I can afford. I’m so scared I’ll lose my job if I can’t get to work.”
He replied almost instantly, “Don’t worry, Leah. I’ll take care of it. How much do you need?”
“About $1,500,” I wrote back, holding my breath.
“Consider it done,” he replied, and minutes later, the money was in my account.
Each transaction brought me closer to my goal. I asked for help with rent and then “emergency” medical procedures for a sick family member. Dexter was more than willing to help, convinced he was the hero Leah needed. What he didn’t realize was that he was funding my escape.
While he was distracted by his affair, I meticulously planned my departure. I found a new place to live, made arrangements for the kids, and discreetly packed our essentials.
Every day, I gathered a little more evidence of his infidelity and financial transactions, making sure I had enough to protect myself if he tried to contest anything later. I took screenshots of our chats, saved copies of bank statements, and even recorded a few of our conversations where he talked about his “true feelings” for Leah.
“Leah, I feel like I can be honest with you,” he wrote one evening. “I’ve never felt this way before. You understand me in a way no one else does.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” I replied, heart pounding. “I care about you a lot, Dex.”
“I care about you too,” he responded. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we could be together for real. I know it sounds crazy, but I think I might be falling for you.”
Reading his confession, I felt a mix of anger and satisfaction. I saved the conversation, knowing it would be crucial later. He had no idea that his heartfelt messages were sealing his fate.
The final step was to reveal my plan. I knew the perfect way to do it. I sent him a final message from the fake account, arranging a meet-up at a fancy restaurant.
“Dex, I feel like we’ve known each other forever. I think it’s time we finally meet in person. How about dinner at The Grand at 8 p.m. this Friday?”
He replied within seconds, “I’ve been waiting for this moment, Leah. I’ll be there.”
On the day of the meeting, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves. This was it.
I dressed in my best outfit, a simple yet elegant black dress that Dexter always said was his favorite. I wanted to look my best when I confronted him. I arrived at The Grand a bit early and took a seat at a quiet corner table where I could see the entrance clearly.
I ordered a glass of wine and sat there, watching the clock tick closer to 8 p.m. Finally, Dexter walked in, looking around eagerly. He was wearing the suit I had bought him for our anniversary a few years ago. He looked nervous but excited, completely unaware of what was about to happen.
As he scanned the room, I stood up and walked over to him. “Dexter,” I said, my voice steady.
He turned, his eyes widening in shock. “Phoebe? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I replied, holding up a folder. “But I think you know.”
He looked at the folder, confusion and panic mixing on his face. “What’s that?”
“Let’s sit down,” I suggested, guiding him to the table I had been sitting at. He followed, still looking dazed.
Once we were seated, I placed the folder in front of him. “Open it,” I said.
With shaking hands, he opened the folder and began to go through the contents. Inside were screenshots of our conversations, evidence of his infidelity, and a detailed list of all the money he had sent to Leah’s account—my account. His face turned pale as he realized he had been played.
“I knew all along,” I said calmly, watching him. “This was my way of getting back at you and securing my freedom. The money you sent to your ‘lover’ will help me and the kids start a new life away from you.”
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and anger. “Phoebe, I can explain—”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I cut him off. “You betrayed me, Dexter. You made vows to me, and you broke them. Now, you’re going to face the consequences.”
He opened his mouth to argue but closed it again, realizing the evidence was undeniable. There was nothing he could say to make it better or take back what he had done.
I stood up, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “I’m leaving, Dexter. Don’t try to find us, and don’t think you can contest anything. I have all the evidence I need to make sure you don’t.”
He sat there, stunned, as I walked out of the restaurant. I felt a strange sense of satisfaction and freedom as I left him behind. That evening, I moved into our new home, taking the kids with me. The money I had accumulated ensured we were comfortable and had a fresh start.
The new place was cozy, nothing extravagant but perfect for us. The kids were a bit confused at first, but I explained it was a new adventure. They were excited about their new rooms, and I felt a sense of relief knowing we were safe and away from Dexter’s deceit.
Over the next few days, I settled into our new life. I enrolled the kids in a new school and started looking for a job. With the money Dexter had unwittingly provided, we were stable for the time being. I even found myself smiling more, feeling lighter than I had in years.
One evening, as I was tucking the kids into bed, my daughter looked up at me and said, “Mom, are we going to be okay?”
I smiled and kissed her forehead. “Yes, sweetheart. We’re going to be just fine.”
As I sat in the living room later, sipping a cup of tea, I reflected on everything that had happened. Revenge is best served cold, and Dexter learned that the hard way. He thought he was cheating, but he was just falling into my trap. Now, I am free, financially secure, and ready to move forward without him.
My Husband Insisted on Homeschooling Our Daughter — I Gasped When I Found Out Why
When Mia’s husband, Ben, suddenly starts talking about homeschooling their six-year-old daughter, Lily, she’s surprised. Months earlier, they had been talking about sending the little girl to private school. So, what changed? Mia finds out when she overhears a conversation between Ben and Lily…
This all started a few months ago at a dinner party. My husband, Ben, and I were sitting with a few friends when, out of the blue, he brought up the idea of homeschooling our daughter, Lily.
An aerial view of people at a dinner party | Source: Midjourney
“It’s the system, you know? It’s too rigid, too focused on tests,” Ben said, leaning forward in his seat like he had discovered the secret to the universe.
“Kids need to be free to explore their creativity. I don’t want Lily’s imagination boxed in. She needs to feel things between her fingers and experience life,” he continued.
Ben reached forward to help himself to the bowl of mashed potatoes.
A casserole of mashed potatoes | Source: Midjourney
Everyone at the table nodded, murmuring in agreement.
“Honestly, that’s so true,” our friend Sarah chimed in as she sipped her wine. “Schools just kill creativity. I wish I had done something different with my kids. Last year, Jasmine wanted to show off her creativity through her uniform, but they didn’t accept it at school. She got a suspension warning.”
I remember glancing at Ben, completely surprised at how passionately he was speaking. He had never once mentioned anything about homeschooling before. In fact, he had been talking about us getting our six-year-old into private school.
A little girl in her school uniform | Source: Midjourney
But here he was, talking about homeschooling like he’d been thinking about it for years.
“We could teach her ourselves, Mia,” Ben continued, glancing over at me with a smile. “Think about it, love. No strict schedules, no standardized tests. She could learn at her own pace.”
I nodded, trying to process everything.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah, I mean, it does sound good,” I agreed. “But we need to explore all options about it first.”
I was hesitant. But I was also unsure of why I felt a slight unease creep up on me. Although when Ben spoke so passionately, it was hard not to get swept up in the dream of it all.
After that night, Ben kept bringing it up. At home, over dinner, in passing conversations, he’d make little comments all the time.
A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney
“Lily would be so much happier if she wasn’t stuck in a classroom all day.”
“We could help her learn things that matter, Mia, not just what’s on some test.”
Eventually, I started to believe that he might be right.
Before I knew it, we had decided to pull Lily out of her school and start with the new routine of homeschooling. Ben took charge of everything.
A little girl using a computer | Source: Midjourney
“Like the gifts we talked about? You’ll deliver them, right?”
He had always been more involved with her school meetings, so I trusted him completely. And look, at first, everything seemed to be working. Ben would sit with Lily during “school hours,” and he’d proudly show me the projects they’d worked on when I got home from work.
“I’m glad she’s happy,” I told Ben one evening when I was loading the dishwasher.
A woman loading a dishwasher | Source: Midjourney
“She’s more than happy, Mia,” he said with a smile. “She’s thriving. Look at this! She made a solar system model all on her own.”
But then one day, I came home early from work, eager to show Lily the new set of watercolor paint I had gotten for her. I walked in quietly, not wanting to disturb whatever lesson she and Ben were doing.
And that’s when I heard Lily crying.
A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney
“But Dad, I miss my friends!” Lily sobbed. “They probably think I don’t like them anymore. I’m sure they think we’re fighting! They’ll be so mad at me for not going to school…”
I crept closer to the dining room, which had become the classroom. And I heard Ben’s voice, low and soothing.
“Lily-girl,” he said. “I told you, we can send them little gifts, okay? They won’t be mad at you.”
An upset little man | Source: Midjourney
Lily sniffled, but her tone lifted a little.
“Like the gifts we talked about? You’ll deliver them, right?” she said.
Deliver gifts? What on earth was my child talking about?
“Yes, darling,” he said.
A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
“Like when you let me come with you when Mommy had to work? You’re going to deliver my friends’ gifts just like when you bring packages to people, right?”
I froze. I tried to piece the information together before storming in and demanding answers.
Ben wasn’t homeschooling Lily out of some grand educational philosophy that he had been talking about endlessly.
An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney
Instead, my husband was delivering packages. All those days that I thought they were doing lessons… what had really been happening under my roof?
“Get your answers, Mia,” I muttered as I walked into the dining room.
Ben’s face turned white when he saw me.
A close up of a shocked man | Source: Midjourney
“Care to explain what on earth Lily is talking about?” I asked.
My chest felt tight, like I was just holding it all together before some horrible news came out.
Ben let out a long breath, running his hands through his hair.
“Honey, why don’t you go play on the swing or watch some TV?” Ben told her.
We waited until Lily was happily running outside to the swing before Ben said another word.
A little girl sitting on a swing | Source: Midjourney
“I… I lost my job, okay? Months ago. I didn’t know how to tell you, Mia.”
I blinked, trying to process his words.
“I didn’t want you to think I was a failure.”
“You lost your job? Then what on earth have you been doing all day?”
“The homeschooling. It wasn’t about Lily’s education. It was because we couldn’t afford the tuition anymore. And I know that a few months ago I wanted her to go to private school, but I couldn’t even afford her public school fees.”
A close up of an upset man | Source: Midjourney
Ben paused, holding his head.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to retaliate.
“I’ve been delivering packages. It’s not stable, but it’s for a few hours a day. I take Lily with me in between her homeschooling. I know you think that I’ve been working in the study and then teaching Lily, too…”
A man holding two boxes | Source: Midjourney
“You’ve been delivering packages? Really? This whole time?” I asked, stunned. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to think that I was a failure,” Ben said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know how to fix this situation. But you know how stressful my job was toward the end. Those hours killed me. I thought that maybe if I could just keep things together for a little while longer…”
A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around everything. I wanted to be angry.
I wanted to shout at my husband, not because he lost his job, but because he didn’t want to tell me about it. I understood the pressure of losing your job suddenly and then having to put yourself back together.
When I was pregnant with Lily, I lost my job because they couldn’t afford to keep paying me while I was on maternity leave.
A pregnant woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
But Ben carried us right up until Lily was three years old.
I shook my head now, trying to shake some of my thoughts. I felt… sad. Sad that Ben had felt like he had to hide this from me.
“Ben, you didn’t have to do this alone,” I said, reaching toward him.
He smiled at me sadly.
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
We put Lily back into school the next week using our savings. She was overjoyed to see her friends, and the guilt Ben had been carrying around began to lift when he saw her running toward them at the school gate.
As for Ben, he found another job as a grocery store manager. It wasn’t his dream job, but it was honest work that came with medical benefits. And honestly, I think it was just the fact that he was earning properly again that made the biggest difference to him.
A man standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney
There was a lightness back in our home that hadn’t been there in a long time. A sense that we were moving forward, together.
What would you have done?
A smiling couple with their daughter | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
Am I Wrong for “Hiding” My MIL’s Birthday Present to My Husband after Finding Out What Was Inside?
Tired of allowing her cold and callous mother-in-law to ruin her husband’s birthday, Lila hides Carol’s birthday present from Bill to save him the hurt and disappointment that usually came with his mother’s gifts. But when Lila’s secret comes out, a series of events unfolds.
I could tell my husband, Bill, was nervous. His birthday was coming up, and every year, his mom’s gift felt like a slap in the face.
Bill sat on our worn-out couch, his shoulders tense.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“Do you think she’ll actually care this time?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
I sighed, placing my hand on his. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I knew that I needed to reassure him, but my husband’s relationship with his mother was complicated.
“Maybe,” I said. “But remember, we’re celebrating your birthday, not hers. We’ll have a great time, no matter what, darling.”
A couple holding hands | Source: Midjourney
Bill smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I knew how much he wanted to feel loved and appreciated by Carol, but she always failed to show him that. It wasn’t just about the gifts. It was about the feeling.
Bill had told me the story a long time ago. He was his mother’s son from her first marriage, and their relationship was strong, but things took a turn when Carol met her second husband, Adam.
It became even worse when Bill’s younger brothers were born. Suddenly, Carol only had eyes for Adam and their sons, making it clear to Bill that he was no longer a priority in her life.
A mother and her sons | Source: Midjourney
“Okay,” he said. “This year will be different.”
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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