When Anna’s husband suggested moving his mistress into their home, she stunned him by agreeing.
But what started as a shocking proposal turned into a brilliantly orchestrated plan for revenge.
My name’s Anna.
I’m 32, and for two years, I thought I had the perfect marriage.
Derek and I met through mutual friends, and things moved fast.
By the time we got married, I was sure he was my soulmate. But lately, something felt… off.
It started small: late nights at work, a faint trace of perfume on his clothes, and his phone, which was suddenly glued to him.
It buzzed constantly, but he’d swipe it away before I could see.
At first, I told myself I was imagining things. “He’s busy,” I thought. “It’s nothing.” But I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling.
And when he started taking calls in another room, that was it. I had to know the truth.
One night, after dinner, I decided to confront him. I was nervous but determined.
I needed honesty, even if it hurt.
“Derek, can we talk?” I asked, keeping my tone calm.
“Sure, babe. What’s up?” He looked up from his phone, smiling like everything was fine.
I took a deep breath. “What’s going on with you lately?
You’ve been acting… different.”
“Different? What do you mean?” His smile faded, replaced by a defensive edge.
“You’re never home on time. You’re always on your phone.
And… I can smell perfume on you, Derek.” I folded my arms. “Just tell me the truth.”
He blinked, then sighed. “Okay, fine.
You’re right.”
My stomach dropped. “Right about what?”
“There’s someone else,” he admitted, looking down at his hands.
I stared at him, struggling to process his words. “Someone else?” I repeated.
“Her name’s Jessica,” he said quietly.
“But listen, it’s not what you think.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Not what I think? You’re cheating on me, Derek!”
“It’s complicated,” he said quickly.
“I love you, Anna. You’re my best friend. But I… I love her too.
In a different way.”
I clenched my fists under the table, trying to stay calm. “So, what are you saying? You want a divorce?”
“No!” he said, shaking his head.
“I don’t want to lose you. I was thinking… maybe we could all live together.”
I froze. “Excuse me?”
“You have to understand,” he said, his voice almost pleading.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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