When Lexie overhears her husband and the neighbor’s daughter discussing their affair, she doesn’t cry or scream. Instead, she plots her revenge. With a clever invitation and a shocking twist, she turns their betrayal into a lesson neither of them will ever forget.
My husband, Mark, and I had been together for ten years. We had two kids, a mortgage, and what I believed was a strong marriage. Sure, Mark wasn’t the most helpful person around the house. He didn’t cook, he didn’t clean, and he never lifted a finger when it came to taking care of the kids.
That was all on me.
Was it exhausting? Absolutely. But I kept telling myself, “We’re a team, Lexie.”
Apparently, Mark had decided to join another team entirely.
It all started with a bag of groceries.
I had just pulled into the driveway, my car packed with heavy bags, when I heard voices coming from the front porch. Mark was laughing with Emma, our 25-year-old neighbor who had recently moved back to town after landing an internship in interior design. Her parents were so proud of her.
I was about to call out a greeting, but something stopped me. I stayed hidden behind the car, listening.
“I can’t believe she hasn’t figured it out yet,” Emma giggled, her voice light and carefree.
Mark chuckled. “She’s always so busy with the kids and the house. Lexie barely notices anything anymore. She’s getting so gray, too, but she just brushes her hair the other way to hide it. Honestly, she’s let herself go. She’s nothing compared to you, my princess.”
Emma let out a delighted laugh. “Well, lucky for you, I’m here now. You can show me off as much as you want. And trust me, there’s no gray hair in sight.”
Then, they kissed.
Kissed.
I gripped one of the grocery bags so tightly that the plastic started to tear. My vision blurred, my heart pounded, but I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I didn’t rush up to confront them.
Instead, I carried my groceries inside—through the back door—and started planning.
The next morning, I woke up feeling surprisingly calm. I made Mark his favorite breakfast—fluffy eggs, crispy bacon, and coffee with a dash of cinnamon, just the way he liked it. I kissed him on the cheek as he left for work, waving cheerfully from the doorway.
Then, I strolled over to Emma’s house and knocked on the door.
She opened it, clearly surprised. “Oh! Hi, Mrs.—I mean, hi, Lexie.”
I smiled. “Hi, Emma! I was wondering if you could come over tomorrow evening. I could really use your advice on something.”
She blinked. “Advice? On what?”
I hesitated, letting my voice sound hesitant. “I’ve been thinking of redecorating the living room. Your parents mentioned you studied design, and I thought you might help pick out colors or furniture ideas.”
For a second, doubt flickered in her eyes. Then, she tilted her head, a sly smile playing on her lips. “Oh, I’d love to help! What time?”
“Seven o’clock,” I said sweetly. “Dinner time. Thanks so much, Emma, you’re a lifesaver.”
Emma arrived the next evening, dressed to impress. She greeted me with her usual bright confidence.
I welcomed her warmly. “Oh, before we start on the living room, let me show you a few things.”
I led her around the house, pointing out important areas. “Here’s the dishwasher. You’ll need to load it every night, because Mark never does. The kids’ laundry goes here—be sure to separate the loads, since they have sensitive skin.”
She blinked at me in confusion.
“Oh, and here’s the schedule for their after-school activities. You’ll need to pick them up on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but Wednesdays are free for errands. I’ve written down the numbers for the plumber, the electrician, and the pediatrician—just in case.”
Emma’s smile faltered. Her face went pale.
“And this,” I said, leading her to the kitchen, “is where you’ll prepare all the meals. There are breakfasts, school lunches, work lunches, snacks, and dinners. Mark likes his steak medium-rare, by the way. The kids prefer it well-done.”
She gasped. “Uh, Lexie… I don’t think—I didn’t offer to babysit them.”
Just then, Mark walked in. His face drained of color when he saw us.
“Lexie, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice high-pitched.
“Oh,” I said brightly, “I probably should’ve included you in this. I’m showing Emma how to run the house. Since you think I’ve let myself go, I figured it’s time to prioritize myself. And maybe find someone who sees me as his princess. Emma, you’re in charge now. Good luck!”
Before either of them could respond, there was a knock on the door.
I opened it to reveal Emma’s parents, Anne and Howard, the same couple who often babysat my kids.
“Oh! It smells delicious!” Howard said cheerfully. “I told Anne you were making your famous roast chicken.”
I beamed. “Thanks for coming. And thank you for raising such a helpful daughter. She and Mark have grown so close that I thought it was time to make her part of the family.”
Anne’s smile vanished. “Wait, what?”
“I’m leaving. Emma’s going to take care of everything now! You must be so proud.”
Anne looked at Emma, horrified. “Tell me this isn’t true.”
“It’s not what it looks like!” Emma stammered.
Mark, ever the coward, tried to shift blame. “Lexie, this isn’t fair! Emma came onto me!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you’re saying you had no choice? You just accidentally had an affair?”
Howard’s face darkened. “Mark, this is on you. Emma, you’re coming with us. Now.”
Emma shot me a venomous glare before storming out. Her parents followed, muttering apologies.
Mark turned to me, desperate. “Lexie, please, babe. We’ve been together for so long. Let’s talk about this.”
I smiled sweetly. “Oh, we’ll talk. My lawyer will call you tomorrow. But for now, pack your bags.”
His face twisted. “Where am I supposed to go?”
I shrugged. “Motel. A friend’s place. The circus. Not my problem.”
“And the kids?”
“They’re with my sister. You can see them when the lawyers work out custody.”
A week later, I heard Emma had dumped Mark.
“It was fun while it lasted,” she had told a friend, “but I didn’t sign up to be a mom.”
Two weeks later, Mark showed up at my door with flowers. “Lexie, please, I miss our family.”
I burst out laughing. “I don’t care, Mark.” Then, I shut the door in his face.
Now? I’ve never been happier. I started salsa dancing. My confidence, joy, and freedom came rushing back.
As for Mark? He’s still single. Emma’s parents still aren’t speaking to her. But Anne bakes me pies, and Howard rakes my leaves.
Karma, it turns out, has a delicious sense of humor.
