Contents
- My husband brought his pregnant mistress home and told me to move in with my mother – my revenge was merciless
- It happened on Tuesday evening.
- The plan for revenge
- The denouement
My husband brought his pregnant mistress home and told me to move in with my mother – my revenge was merciless
Eight years of marriage collapsed in an instant when my husband, Mate, brought his pregnant mistress into our home and kicked me out. I packed my things, as he asked. But what I ‘unpacked’ later became a revenge he would never forget.
Eight years. Approximately 2,922 days. About 70,128 hours. Every second, my heart beat for only one person — Mate, my husband. I thought he loved me as much as I loved him. Oh, how wrong I was!
My name is Zofia, and I am a faithful wife who loved her husband madly… until that fateful night when my world collapsed.
It happened on Tuesday evening.
I was tired after a long day at work and came home. The first thing I saw was a heavily pregnant woman sitting comfortably on the sofa with a bag of crisps.
For a moment, I thought I had walked into the wrong house.
But no. There it was, the ugly floral wallpaper that Mate had so desperately defended. And there he was, looking as if he had swallowed a hedgehog.
‘Hi, Jozy,’ he finally said, as if he were simply asking me to pass the salt. ‘We need to talk.’
I froze. My brain was desperately trying to make sense of this absurdity. The pregnant woman smiled nervously and put her hand on her stomach, as if she were acting in a cheap soap opera.
‘This is Lilla,’ Mate continued, pointing to the ‘human incubator’ on the sofa. ‘She’s pregnant. With my child. It… just happened. And we decided to be together.’
I waited. I waited for him to laugh and say it was a joke. Maybe I’d get a car if I didn’t throw a tantrum?
But Mate’s face remained serious. And Lila’s smile grew wider and wider.
‘Mate,’ I began slowly, ‘what do you mean, “it just happened”? Did you trip and accidentally fall on her?’
Mate’s face darkened.
‘Enough, Joffy! This is serious. I think you’d better move out. You can stay with your mother. Lila and I will stay in the house.’
I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.
No, it wasn’t a bad dream.
Ashton Kutcher didn’t jump out of the closet shouting, ‘Gotcha!’ No. Sitting in front of me were my unfaithful husband and his heavily pregnant mistress.
‘Fine,’ I said coldly. ‘I’ll pack my things and leave.’
Mate looked relieved. Lilla beamed with happiness, as if she had won the jackpot.
It didn’t even occur to them that the real jackpot would now be on my side.
Plan of revenge
I went upstairs, silently packed a suitcase with the bare essentials and left.
But as I drove to my mother’s house, the shock slowly gave way to rage. Not just rage — it was a rage that gave birth to something ingeniously cunning.
At dawn, I sprang into action.
First stop: the bank.
I walked into the branch and froze all our joint accounts. So quickly that the poor clerks didn’t even have time to say ‘traitor.’
The bank manager’s face when I explained the situation was priceless.
Next step: change the locks.
I knew that Mate and Lilla were away for three days — I overheard it by accident the day before. I had just enough time to put my plan into action.
I called a locksmith and changed ALL the locks in the house. I installed the most modern security system.
‘Are you sure about this?’ the locksmith asked cautiously, watching my devilish smile.
‘Absolutely,’ I replied. ‘And add more surveillance cameras.’
Step three: movers.
I hired a team to take away… EVERYTHING. The sofa? Gone. The bed? Gone. Even the toilet paper was gone. I wonder what it’s like to use leaves?
But the main highlight was yet to come.
I sent out invitations.
Large colourful cards with the inscription:
‘PARTY IN HONOUR OF MATE AND LILLA!’
Come celebrate Mate’s new life! Surprise party at his house, tomorrow at 7 p.m.!
And then the final touch.
A giant banner in front of the house:
‘Congratulations, Mate! You left me for your pregnant mistress! I hope the child doesn’t inherit your infidelity!’
The denouement
The next evening, the phone was ringing off the hook.
‘Zofia! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!’ Mate shouted hysterically. ‘Why is there a crowd of people here?!’
I smirked.
‘Oh, darling, you wanted to throw a party!’ By the way, why can’t you get into the house? Oh, right… The house is registered to ME! So I just… changed the locks.
Karma can be ruthless.
Mate was left standing on the street. And for the first time in a long time, I felt free.
The end? Perhaps. But a good revenge story always leaves room for new twists…
