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.
A sad woman deep in her thought | Source: Pexels
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.
A sad woman laying on her couch | Source: Freepik
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.
A serious defensive man | Source: Pexels
“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.
A shocked woman in a pink sweater | Source: Freepik
“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?”
A serious man looking down | Source: Pexels
“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. “I love you as a person. But I love her as a woman. I don’t want to choose. Maybe we could all live… together.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. My mind was racing.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
But then, an idea started to form.
“Alright,” I said, forcing a smile. “If this is going to work, I need to meet her.”
He looked surprised. “You do?”
“Yes. Why don’t you invite her over for dinner? Let’s see if this could work.”
Derek grinned, relieved. “Really? You’re amazing, Anna.”
I smiled back, but inside, I was seething.
A modest smiling woman | Source: Pexels
“Just amazing,” I muttered, already planning my next move.
The next evening, I heard Derek’s car pull into the driveway. My stomach turned as I adjusted the table settings one last time. I had to play this carefully.
When the door opened, Derek walked in, smiling nervously, with her right behind him.
“Anna, this is Jessica,” he said, stepping aside.
A man with his younger girlfriend | Source: Midjourney
Jessica looked younger than I expected—mid-20s, maybe—with long blond hair and a careful smile. She wore a fitted dress that screamed “I’m trying, but not too hard.” Her eyes flicked over me, and I could feel her sizing me up.
“Hi, Anna,” she said, stepping forward to shake my hand. Her grip was soft and hesitant.
“Jessica,” I said warmly and smiled. “Welcome. Please, make yourself at home.”
A laughing woman | Source: Pexels
As we sat down to eat, I kept my focus sharp. I smiled and passed the food, but my eyes caught every glance, every twitch.
Jessica’s laughter was high-pitched and overly sweet. She leaned in close to Derek when she spoke, touching his arm lightly. I noticed Derek’s hand resting briefly on hers before he pulled it back, glancing at me.
“So, Jessica,” I said, keeping my tone light. “What do you do for a living?”
A woman talking to her husband’s mistress | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, I work in marketing,” she replied, her voice faltering slightly. “It’s… um, fun. Challenging sometimes, but I like it.”
“Challenging?” I tilted my head. “How so?”
Jessica looked to Derek for help, but he was busy cutting his steak. “Oh, you know… deadlines and clients and all that,” she said quickly.
“I see,” I said with a small smile. “Well, I’m sure Derek appreciates your hard work.”
A woman with a forced smile at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney
Jessica blinked, and Derek shifted uncomfortably. “Of course, I do,” he said, clearing his throat. “Jessica’s incredible at what she does.”
I sipped my wine and let the silence stretch before glancing at my phone. Casually, I typed a quick message to my dad:
Hi Dad, could you stop by my place? Derek’s out, and a neighbor called saying someone’s in the house. I’m nervous.
A woman typing on her phone | Source: Freepik
A moment later, his reply came: Be there in 10.
Perfect.
As dinner wound down, I pushed back my chair. “It’s getting late,” I said. “Why don’t we all head upstairs? I’ll take a quick shower before bed.”
Jessica’s eyes widened. “Oh, um, are you sure? I mean—”
“It’s fine,” I said with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Make yourselves comfortable.”
A smiling woman at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney
Derek smiled nervously. “Thanks, babe. You’re the best.”
“Yeah,” I murmured, grabbing a towel. “The best.”
The water pounded against the shower tiles as I stood there, letting the steam fill the room. My mind raced.
This is absurd, I thought. I’m hosting my husband and his mistress. In my house. In my bed.
A woman in a shower | Source: Pexels
A bitter laugh escaped me. But the thought of what was about to happen made my anger settle into a quiet, focused determination.
I barely had time to towel off before I heard the low rumble of my dad’s voice from upstairs.
“Derek,” he said, his tone calm but menacing. “Mind telling me what the hell is going on here?”
An angry mature man talking to his son-in-law | Source: Midjourney
I rushed to the hallway, peeking just in time to see the scene unfold. My dad, a former Navy officer with a build to match, stood in the doorway of the bedroom, arms crossed. His sheer presence made most people think twice about crossing him.
Jessica sat on the edge of the bed, looking confused and nervous. “Who are you?” she stammered.
A shocked scared young woman | Source: Midjourney
Derek, on the other hand, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He stood frozen, his face pale and his hands raised slightly, as if surrendering. “Mr. Grant, I—I can explain!”
“Explain?” My dad’s voice was cold. “Explain what you’re doing in my daughter’s house with her?” He gestured sharply toward Jessica, who flinched.
“Please, it’s not what it looks like,” Derek blurted, his words spilling over each other.
An angry man talking in his bedroom | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, it’s exactly what it looks like,” my dad growled, taking a step forward.
Derek started backing away, his eyes darting to the window. “I, uh, I’ll just… I should go!”
“Not so fast,” my dad barked. “You don’t walk out of here after this. You crawl.”
That was enough for Derek. With a yelp, he turned, scrambled onto the windowsill, and jumped.
A man trying to climb out of his window | Source: Midjourney
From my spot in the hallway, I stifled a laugh as he landed awkwardly on the lawn in nothing but his boxers. He stumbled to his feet, muttering something about calling later, and bolted down the street.
“Coward,” my dad muttered, shaking his head.
Jessica sat frozen on the bed, her wide eyes darting between me and my father.
A shocked woman looking at the scene in front of her | Source: Midjourney
I stepped into the room, tightening my robe. Jessica turned to me, her face flushed. “Look, Anna, I didn’t mean for this to happen—”
I held up a hand to cut her off. “Save it. You’re not the first woman to make excuses for bad decisions. But you will be the last one in my house.”
Jessica blinked. “I… I don’t have anywhere to go tonight.”
A nervous woman in her bed | Source: Midjourney
“Not my problem,” I said firmly. “You made a choice. Now you deal with it. Pack your things and leave.”
“But—”
“Out. Now.”
Jessica looked like she wanted to argue, but my dad’s sharp glare made her think better of it. She grabbed her purse and shoes, glancing back at me as if she expected me to change my mind.
A furious man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney
When I didn’t, she shuffled out of the room, her head low. I heard the front door click shut behind her, and for the first time that night, the house felt quiet.
The next morning, I was up early, not because I had to be, but because I wanted to take control of my life as soon as possible. I dressed, packed a bag of Derek’s things, and made my way to the courthouse.
A confident woman walking | Source: Pexels
Filing for divorce felt like taking off a weight I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying. As I signed the papers, I thought about the lies, the betrayal, and the absurdity of Derek’s suggestion.
And then I thought about how I’d handled it. I’d kept my cool, played my cards right, and turned what could’ve been a humiliating experience into a moment of triumph.
A woman signing divorce papers | Source: Pexels
By the time I left the courthouse, I felt lighter, freer. I knew I deserved better, and I wasn’t going to settle for less ever again.
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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.
