Saturday arrived, and I greeted Lisa at the door with a friendly smile, acting like everything was just peachy. My husband arrived shortly after, none the wiser.
He kissed my cheek, oblivious to what I had in store for him. I smiled back, feeling the cold satisfaction bubbling inside me.
The three of us sat at the table in the backyard. I served the food, my heart racing but my hands steady.
The air was thick with tension, but neither of them seemed to notice. Lisa made small talk about Dylan, and my husband chimed in with his usual charm, but I wasn’t listening. I was waiting.
I poured myself a glass of wine, took a sip, and set it down with a calm that I didn’t really feel.
Then, I casually dropped the bomb.
“So, I got the results back from a DNA test recently,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Something interesting came up.”
Silence. The air seemed to freeze.
I watched the color drain from my husband’s face. He knew. Oh, he knew.
Lisa’s fork clattered onto her plate, her wide eyes darting between me and my husband.
“W-What are you talking about?” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.
I gave her a cold smile. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Lisa.”
My husband’s hand tightened around his drink, but he said nothing, his face pale as a ghost. He knew there was no talking his way out of this.
I stood up slowly, my heart beating fast but my voice steady as steel.
“Pack your things,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “And get out. I’m keeping the house.
And don’t even think about fighting me on it—I’ve already spoken to a lawyer.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He looked at me, then at Lisa, the panic in his eyes growing by the second.
I wasn’t finished. “Oh, and just so you know,” I added, my voice laced with satisfaction, “I recorded this entire conversation.
Not just for myself, but to show the world who you really are.”
His face went from white to red, but before he could say anything, I turned my back on him and walked into the house.
Within a week, he was gone—no house, no family, no reputation. Lisa? She moved away soon after, ashamed and humiliated.
Dylan? I felt for him. He was just an innocent kid caught in the crossfire of his parents’ betrayal.
I couldn’t punish him for their sins. So, I set up a trust fund for him. One that his father wouldn’t ever touch.
In the end, it wasn’t just karma that got him.
It was me.
And as I watched him drive away for the last time, I didn’t feel sadness. I didn’t feel guilty. I felt peace.
The last thing he ever said to me?
“Taylor… how could you?”
I smiled.
“How could I? You tell me.”
