My Husband Cheated on Me While I Was Postpartum – I Pretended Not to Know, Planning to Hit Him Hard with My Revenge
I thought my husband and I were on the same page when we conceived our first child together, but he chose our baby girl’s birth as the reason for his infidelity. Little did he know I found out and played him, pretending to still be in love with him until I could drop the real surprise!
A shocked man with his mouth covered while reading something on a paper | Source: Pexels
Right after I gave birth to our only child, I found out that my husband had been sneaking around with a mistress. The truth shattered my heart into a billion pieces when I discovered the truth, finding myself tangled in a web of betrayal and pain.
I thought we had a healthy and happy marriage until I started noticing the late-night calls, secretive outings, and general changes in his behavior.
A man smiling while on a call | Source: Freepik
What broke my heart the most was that he strayed while I was postpartum, a time when our family should have been basking in the joy of our new addition. Instead, I was left grappling with a hurt that seemed insurmountable.
I was able to confirm his infidelity when I pored over what felt like a thousand texts between him and his side chick, trying to figure out WHY. Like, what did she have that I was missing?
A woman looking to the side while contemplating something with her phone in hand | Source: Pexels
While I was trying to work, take care of our little one, and maintain a happy marriage, he was finding love and joy in the arms of someone else. I don’t want to lie… I was livid! I felt betrayed, but anger was the main emotion fueling me.
Then a wild idea hit me!
I decided to secure a life for myself and our baby girl by buying an apartment where we’d love together. I also moved our money around so I could have access to it when needed without him being aware.
I also spoke to a lawyer and prepared to get sole custody or shared if it came down to that.
A man smiling while a woman whispers something to him while having beverages | Source: Pexels
However, I had a bigger and more elaborate plan than what I already did. I started morphing into every little thing he’d been daydreaming and texting her about. His messages to her started drying up.
When I read how he loved seeing her wearing “her short miniskirt with the cute little heels,” I incorporated that into my look. When he mentioned liking the way she “lightly touched his forearm when they conversed,” I started mimicking that behavior.
Ironically, he never asked me about these changes but just became more interested and invested in me.
A woman caressing a man’s arm while holding hands | Source: Pexels
He spoke of feeling alive, desired—a contrast to the life we had woven together. It pained me to see him find solace in another when I had poured every ounce of my love into our union.
And then, the moment I’ve been biting my nails for happens… he breaks it off with her! My plan had yielded the results I wanted, leading him to tell her he loves me!
My husband cut things off with his mistress and was finally mine, but it was a bittersweet victory.
An angry woman pointing at a man seated on a bench during a heated disagreement | Source: Pexels
Relief washed over me, yet the seed of my plan had already taken root. Preparation for my divorce was underway, a final act of defiance against the hurt that had been inflicted upon us both. He was unaware of the storm brewing on the horizon, a storm that would break in the serene setting of a restaurant, under the guise of a romantic evening.
So, when our anniversary came, I pretended to still be in love with him and planned this super romantic dinner at a restaurant where I invited him as my date. He’s all sparkly-eyed, totally excited, looking at me like I’m the only woman in the world.
A happy man kissing the hand of his date | Source: Pexels
That night, as we sat across from each other, I played the part of a loving wife to perfection. Laughter and tender glances were exchanged, a facade of normalcy that belied the tumult within me.
At one point, I asked him to pose for this photo, you know, “for the memories…”
…And then his face went ghost-white the second I unveiled the culmination of my plans: Divorce papers slid across the table!
I TOOK THIS PHOTO OF MY HUSBAND MINUTES BEFORE RUINING HIS LIFE.
A man smiling and looking happy while having his picture taken at a restaurant | Source: Flickr
His eyes widened, a mix of shock and disbelief washing over him. “Is this some kind of joke?” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper.
A shocked man looking at some papers | Source: Pexels
“No joke,” I replied, my voice laced with a resolve that surprised even me.
“I know everything, about her, about the lies. It’s over.”
A shocked man covering part of his face while sitting with a drink and papers in front of him | Source: Freepik
“But, I…I thought we were happy,” he managed, his words tumbling out in desperation.
“We were until you decided that wasn’t enough,” I said, standing up, the chair scraping quietly against the floor. “I deserved better. Our child deserves better.”
An upset woman gesturing with her hands while talking to someone at a restaurant | Source: Freepik
He reached for my hand, but I pulled away. “Please, can’t we talk about this? There has to be another way,” he pleaded.
“There was. It was called trust,” I answered, turning away from the table, from the life we shared, from the man I thought I knew.
The shock that rippled through him was palpable, a stark contrast to the composed demeanor I maintained. His face, a canvas of confusion and hurt, mirrored the turmoil I had wrestled with in solitude. The photographs, now haunting relics of a happiness that was no more, served as a testament to the depth of my resolve.
A couple posing for a photo at an establishment | Source: Pexels
As I walked away from that table, the weight of my decision settled around me. It was a choice born of pain, a necessary end to a chapter that could no longer sustain us.
The relief I had expected to feel was mingled with a profound sadness. Yet, amid the tumult of emotions, there was a flicker of hope. Hope for healing, a future unfettered by betrayal, and the strength to rebuild from the ashes of a love that once was.
A happy woman holding a drink and standing at the door of an establishment | Source: Freepik
In the end, it wasn’t just about revenge or the satisfaction of catching him unawares. It was about reclaiming my life, about setting boundaries for the respect and love I deserved. As I stepped into the unknown, with my child by my side, I knew that no matter how daunting the path ahead might be, we would navigate it together, with our heads held high and our hearts open to the promise of new beginnings.
A woman hugging and holding her baby tight | Source: Pexels
In a similar tale, a wife discovered her marriage was a lie during a vacation:
Alice’s tale is stirred by secrets and lies. Imagine, if you will, a life seemingly lifted from the pages of a fairy tale, with Alice, her devoted husband Tom, and their daughter, Sarah, living a dream punctuated by laughter and love. On the surface, everything’s picture-perfect – until her husband’s surprise vacation to the Maldives reveals cracks in the facade.
A couple embracing while on vacation | Source: Pexels
Their Maldivian adventure starts like a dream, with romantic beach dinners under the stars, but soon, Tom’s incessant phone calls cast a shadow over paradise. Alice’s discovery of Tom’s deception – telling another woman that she was dead – turns the dream into a nightmare.
The plot thickens as Alice, reeling from the revelation, decides not to play the victim but to craft a cunning plan of retribution. Her strategy unfolds over a dinner designed to expose Tom’s betrayal, under the guise of forgiveness and new beginnings.
A couple sharing a toast while having a meal together | Source: Pexels
The dinner, intended as a celebration, transforms into an arena where truths are unveiled, leaving Tom grappling with the consequences of his actions. Alice’s encounter with Amanda, the other woman, reveals a twist of fate, turning a moment of personal betrayal into an opportunity for empowerment.
A serious-looking woman talking to someone on the phone | Source: Pexels
In the end, Alice steps away from the wreckage of her marriage, embarking on a journey of self-discovery and healing, with Sarah by her side. Her story, while steeped in betrayal, is ultimately a testament to resilience, the power of the truth, and the courage to rebuild.
It’s a vivid reminder that even in the aftermath of deception, new beginnings can be forged, shaped by strength and the will to move forward on one’s own terms.
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.
As a Mother of Two, I Dreamed of Adopting a Third Until My MIL Forced Me to Leave Home with My Kids — Story of the Day
I thought adopting a child would complete our family, but nothing prepared me for the challenges that followed. Just when everything seemed to fall apart, an unexpected turn changed our lives forever.
Recently, my husband Mark and I unanimously decided to adopt a child. It wasn’t a decision we made lightly, but it felt deeply right. Our home had love to spare, and I knew our family had room for one more soul.
Emily and Jacob, our two beloved children, caught on to our excitement right away. They were chattering about their “new sister” every day.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Do you think she likes soccer?” Jacob asked as he kicked a ball around the yard.
Emily rolled her eyes. “She probably likes dolls, Jacob. She’s six, not a boy.”
“She can like both,” I interjected with a laugh, loving their playful banter.
Earlier that day, Mark and I met Evie for the first time. A petite six-year-old with chestnut hair and solemn eyes, she held a worn teddy bear tightly, like it was her lifeline.
“She’s beautiful,” I whispered to Mark as we left the meeting.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“She’s got a kind soul. You can just tell.”
The warmth of that moment lingered, and I held onto it as we returned home. I couldn’t wait to see her playing with Emily and Jacob, laughing around the dinner table. Everything felt perfect until the family dinner with my MIL, Barbara.
It began innocently enough. Barbara passed me the salad bowl, chatting about the neighbor’s new puppy. Then, her tone shifted.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“So,” she began, eyeing Mark, “I hear you two are thinking about adopting.”
I smiled, setting my fork down. “We are. Her name is Evie. She’s six…”
“Someone else’s child?” Barbara interrupted, her voice sharp. She glanced between us, her expression unreadable. “You’re serious?”
“Of course we are,” Mark said, but his voice lacked conviction. My heart sank.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Barbara leaned back in her chair. “I just don’t see how a stranger can ever truly be part of this family. Blood ties are what keep us together. Not some orphan.”
The room fell silent. Emily and Jacob, usually giggling through dinner, froze in their seats. My hands tightened around my napkin, but I forced myself to stay calm.
“Family isn’t about blood,” I said firmly. “It’s about love and commitment.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Barbara shrugged. “That’s easy to say, Sarah, but I’ve seen it fail. I just think you should consider the consequences.”
“Mom,” Mark said quietly, “we’ve already made our decision.”
Her sharp gaze turned to him. “Have you? Because it doesn’t sound like you’re entirely sure.”
I glanced at Mark, hoping he’d respond, but he just stared down at his plate. The silence was deafening.
That night, Mark was distant. He didn’t join Emily and Jacob for their bedtime story. Instead, he wandered the house, his footsteps heavy.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Mark?” I called softly from the living room. “Are you okay?”
“I just… I don’t know, Sarah. Maybe Mom has a point. What if this is too much for us?”
I stepped closer. “Mark, you were so sure before. What’s changed?”
He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know. I need time to think.”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. As I went upstairs to check on the kids, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Barbara’s words had planted a dangerous seed of doubt in Mark’s heart.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows, but the brightness only highlighted the heavy mood in the house. The day we had been waiting for—the day we were supposed to bring Evie home—was here. But instead of excitement, a cold tension hung in the air.
Mark stood by the front door, arms crossed, his face unreadable. I approached him with a smile, clutching the list of things I had prepared for Evie’s arrival. But his words stopped me cold.
“I’ve changed my mind, Sarah. I don’t want to go through with this.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“What?” I whispered, my voice trembling. “What are you saying?”
“I just don’t think it’s the right decision. I can’t do this.”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The betrayal stung, sharp and deep, but as the silence stretched between us, something inside me shifted. A clarity I hadn’t felt before settled over me.
“You might have changed your mind,” I said slowly, “but I haven’t. Evie is waiting for us, Mark. She’s been promised a family, and I can’t let her down.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“You’re being irrational,” he said, his voice rising. “You’re dragging the kids into this. You’re making a mistake!”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I turned, grabbed my keys, and began packing a bag for myself and the children. Emily and Jacob watched me quietly, their eyes wide, sensing the tension but saying nothing.
Minutes later, I was buckling them into the car as Mark stood on the porch, shouting something about how I was taking his children away. I didn’t look back. My heart was set.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
The only place I could think to go was my late mother’s house—a small, run-down property that had been sitting empty for years. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a beginning. And for Evie, I would make it work.
***
The first floor was livable after hours of scrubbing, sweeping, and airing out the musty rooms. It was enough for the first time. I focused on turning the space into a cozy retreat for us.
“Mom, what are you doing up there?” Jacob called from the living room as I carried an old mop and bucket to the second floor.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Just a little magic,” I replied, peeking my head over the banister with a smile. “You’ll see when it’s done.”
“Can we help?” Emily’s voice chimed in.
I shook my head gently. “Not this time, sweetie. Why don’t you and Jacob show Evie how to play hide and seek? I bet she’s never played it with such great hiders before.”
Emily immediately turned to Evie, who sat quietly on the couch, clutching her stuffed bear. “Come on, Evie! I’ll even let you hide first.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Yeah, but don’t pick my spot,” Jacob teased, puffing his chest dramatically. “I’ve got the best hiding places in the whole house.”
Evie looked up at them hesitantly, her small hands gripping the bear tighter. “I… I don’t know,” she murmured.
Emily crouched beside her. “It’s really fun. I’ll hide with you the first time if you want. We can be a team.”
A tiny smile flickered across Evie’s face. “Okay.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“That’s the spirit!” Jacob whooped, already darting toward the hallway. “Let’s see if Mom can find us when she’s done building her tower upstairs!”
I chuckled at his imagination as I climbed to the second floor. From above, I could hear their giggles and footsteps as they dashed around.
Emily’s voice called out playful instructions, and Evie’s laughter finally joined theirs. It was a sound I was holding my breath to hear.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Hours later, after the kids had worn themselves out and fallen asleep after pizza, I stood in the dimly lit kitchen, warming my hands with a mug of tea. The day went better than I’d hoped. Evie had played, smiled, and even laughed. She began to trust us.
I tiptoed into my room, careful not to wake the children. As I sank onto the bed, the tears came, hot and unrelenting.
Mark’s absence felt like a shadow over everything. I stared at the cracks in the ceiling, whispering to myself in the darkness.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Am I doing this right? Is this enough?”
In those moments of doubt, I turned to social media as a way to cope. It started simply—a few posts sharing the highs and lows of adjusting to our new life, more for myself than anyone else.
Writing helped me process my thoughts, giving my feelings a place to land. But something unexpected happened.
Strangers, mostly mothers, began commenting on my posts. They shared their own stories, offered advice, and sent words of encouragement.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“You’re doing an amazing thing,” one woman wrote.
“Stay strong. It’s hard, but it’s worth it,” said another.
The messages poured in, and then, people started showing up in real life.
It started with a knock at the door one morning. When I opened it, a woman stood there with a basket of groceries.
“I read your post,” she said with a kind smile. “I just wanted to help.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Another day, a man arrived with a toolbox in hand. “I heard about your house. Mind if I fix that front step? It’s a little wobbly.”
Soon, our little house was buzzing with activity. People brought toys for the kids, blankets to keep us warm, and even fresh paint to brighten the walls. I wasn’t alone.
After several active days and fewer tearful nights, Mark finally wrote. He wanted to meet.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
The hum of a car pulling into the driveway broke the afternoon stillness. My heart skipped as I set down the laundry basket and peeked through the curtain.
Mark stepped out, his shoulders slumped, his face lined with exhaustion. He wasn’t the same man who had walked away weeks ago. I met him at the door, unsure what to say.
“I’m ashamed of myself, Sarah,” he said. “Ashamed of how I let my mother’s fears control me. Ashamed of leaving you to carry this burden alone. You did what I should’ve done. You didn’t give up.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“I didn’t have a choice, Mark,” I said quietly. “Evie needed us. She still does.”
He nodded, his eyes meeting mine for the first time. “I know. And I’m here now. I want to make this right.”
Forgiveness didn’t need to be spoken. It was in the way he rolled up his sleeves and got to work the very next day.
Together, we finished the repairs on the house. Mark worked tirelessly, fixing the roof and building sturdy shelves while I painted and organized.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Evie’s laughter rang through the halls as Emily and Jacob pulled her into their games. For the first time in weeks, the house felt alive.
A few weeks later, Barbara visited. She didn’t say much, but I watched her hand Evie a small brooch, something she treasured. I saw her walls begin to crumble.
When the house was complete, Mark and I sat together on the porch, looking out at the yard where the kids played.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Suddenly Mark turned to me. “What if we turned this place into a foster home? A real one. A safe haven for kids who need a family, even if it’s just for a little while.”
“Mark, that’s… that’s an incredible idea.”
He squeezed my hand. “Then let’s do it. Together.”
We both knew that family wasn’t about blood. It’s about love, choices, and fighting for the people you care about. And it’s always worth the fight.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: I thought faking a fiancé would finally let me step out of my sister’s shadow. But in the middle of my own scheme, I discovered that true love had been closer than I’d ever realized.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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