Mark and I had been married for ten years. We had two wonderful kids, a mortgage, and what I believed was a strong, stable life. Sure, Mark wasn’t exactly the most helpful husband. He never cooked, rarely cleaned, and left most of the childcare to me.
Exhausting? Absolutely.
But I told myself it was okay because, as Mark always said, “We’re a team, Lexie.”
Except, I was about to find out that Mark had decided to join another team altogether.
It all started with a bag of groceries.
I had just pulled into the driveway after a long, tiring trip to the store. My trunk was packed with heavy bags, and I was bracing myself for the exhausting task of carrying everything inside alone—because, as always, Mark wouldn’t lift a finger.
That’s when I heard voices coming from the front porch.
Mark was there, talking to Emma, our neighbor’s 25-year-old daughter. She had recently moved back home after finishing her studies in interior design. Her parents were beyond proud when she landed an internship, and I had always thought of her as a sweet girl.
But the way she and Mark were laughing together—it didn’t sit right with me.
I was about to call out a greeting when something made me stop. Instead, I crouched behind my car, hidden by the shadows and the stacks of grocery bags, and I listened.
“I can’t believe she hasn’t figured it out yet,” Emma giggled.
Mark laughed, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Lexie is so busy with the kids and the house, she barely notices anything else. And honestly? She’s let herself go. She’s getting gray, but she just brushes her hair the other way to hide it. She doesn’t even look like a woman to me anymore.”
Emma giggled again. “Lucky for you, mister, I’m here now. And trust me, there’s no gray hair in sight.”
Then they kissed.
A cold, hard weight settled in my chest. I gripped a grocery bag so tightly that the plastic crinkled under my fingers. My vision blurred with tears, my heart pounded in rage, but I didn’t make a sound. I didn’t scream, didn’t confront them.
Instead, I quietly carried the groceries inside through the back door.
And I started planning.
The next morning, I woke up with a surprising sense of calm. I made Mark breakfast—fluffy eggs, crispy bacon, and his coffee with a dash of cinnamon, just the way he liked it. I kissed him goodbye as he left for work and waved cheerfully from the porch.
Then, I walked next door.
Emma answered the door, her face lighting up in surprise. “Oh! Hi, Mrs.—um, hi, Lexie!”
“Hi, Emma,” I said warmly. “I need a favor. Could you stop by tomorrow evening? I could really use your advice.”
She blinked. “Advice? About what?”
“I’ve been thinking about redecorating the living room. Your parents mentioned you studied design, and I thought you could help with color choices or furniture ideas. Just for a little while.”
For a moment, hesitation flickered across her face. Then she tilted her head and smiled. “Oh, I’d love to help! What time?”
“Seven should be perfect,” I said sweetly. “Dinner time. Thanks so much, Emma. You’re a lifesaver.”
The next evening, Emma arrived dressed to impress. Her outfit was sleek, her makeup flawless, and she had the confidence of a woman who believed she had won.
I greeted her with a warm smile and led her inside. “Oh, before we look at the living room, let me show you a few things first.”
I took her through the house, my tone light and casual. “Here’s the dishwasher. You’ll need to load it every night—Mark never bothers. The kids’ laundry goes here, but be sure to separate the loads because their skin is sensitive.”
Emma frowned. “Um…what?”
I continued, unfazed. “Here’s the after-school schedule. You’ll need to pick the kids up on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I’ve also listed the pediatrician, plumber, and electrician—just in case.”
Her smile faltered. “Lexie, I don’t think—”
“Oh! And in the kitchen, this is where you’ll prep all the meals. Mark likes his steak medium-rare, but the kids prefer it cooked all the way through. The deader, the better. You’ll have to figure out snacks and desserts too.”
Emma’s mouth hung open. “I…I didn’t sign up to babysit your kids.”
Just then, the front door opened, and Mark walked in. He froze when he saw us, his face draining of color.
“Lex, what’s going on?”
I beamed. “Oh, I probably should’ve told you sooner! Since you think I’ve let myself go, I figured it was time to prioritize myself. And since you and Emma are so close, she’s going to take over everything I do. Congratulations!”
Before either of them could respond, there was a knock at the door.
I opened it to reveal Emma’s parents.
“Oh! It smells delicious in here!” Emma’s father said cheerfully. “I told Anne you’d be making your famous roast chicken, Lexie.”
I smiled. “Thank you for coming! And thank you for raising such a helpful daughter. She and Mark are so close, I figured it was time to make her part of the family.”
Emma’s mother frowned. “Wait, what?”
“I’m leaving. Emma’s taking over. You must be so proud of your little girl.”
Anne’s eyes widened. Her husband, on the other hand, looked furious.
“Emma,” he said, his voice sharp. “Tell me this isn’t true.”
Emma stammered, “It’s not what it looks like!”
Mark, panicking, tried to shift blame. “Lexie, this isn’t fair! Emma came onto me!”
“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “So, you weren’t sneaking around behind my back and insulting your wife?”
Howard cut in, his voice icy. “Mark, this is on you. Emma, this is equally on you. Let’s go. Now.”
Emma glared at me before storming out, her parents muttering apologies as they followed.
Mark turned to me, desperation in his eyes. “Lexie, please! We’ve been together for so long. Let’s talk.”
I smiled sweetly. “Don’t worry, Mark. My lawyer will call you tomorrow. But for now, pack your bags and leave.”
“Where will I go?” he whined.
“I don’t care. Go to a motel. Go to a friend. Join the circus.”
A week later, I heard Emma had dumped him.
“It was fun while it lasted, but I didn’t sign up to play mom,” she had told someone.
Two weeks later, Mark showed up at my door with flowers. “I miss you. I miss the kids. Please, let’s fix this.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t care, Mark. Now, leave.”
And I shut the door in his face.
Months later, I’ve never been happier. I took up salsa dancing, regained my confidence, and my kids and I found a new rhythm filled with love and laughter.
As for Mark? He’s still single. Emma’s parents aren’t thrilled with her either. But Anne sends me cakes, and Howard rakes my leaves.
Karma’s a funny thing, isn’t it?
