My husband left me for my best friend after my miscarriagethree years later, I saw them at a petrol station and couldnt stop smiling.
After losing our baby, I turned to my best friend for comfortonly for her to betray me too. Three years later, fate let me see the true cost of their betrayal.
I always thought affairs happened to other peoplesomething you read about online or whispered over dinner. Not to us. Never to us.
For five years, James and I built a life together. It wasnt lavish, but it was oursfilm nights on the sofa, lazy Sunday mornings with tea, inside jokes only we understood.
And all that time, there was Emilymy closest friend since secondary school, the sister I never had by blood. She was there for every milestone, even standing beside me at our wedding, squeezing my hands as she cried happy tears.
When I got pregnant, I thought it was just the next chapter of our perfect life.
But then James changed.
At first, it was smalllate nights at work, smiles that didnt reach his eyes. Then it got worse. He barely looked at me. Conversations became one-word answers. Nights were spent with his back turned, as if I werent even there.
Exhausted and heavily pregnant, I reached out to Emily.
I dont understand whats happening, I sobbed into the phone, curled up in the dark while James slept soundly beside me. Its like hes already gone.
Charlotte, youre overthinking it, she said gently. He loves you. Its just stress.
I wanted to believe her.
But the constant tensionsleepless nights, the gnawing loneliness despite having a husbandwore me down.
Then one morning, I woke to a dull ache in my stomach. By evening, I was in hospital, staring at the doctors moving lips but hearing nothing.
No heartbeat.
No baby.
They say grief comes in waves. Mine was a tidal wave.
The miscarriage shattered mebut James? He was already lost. He sat beside me in the hospital, cold and silent, never reaching for my hand, never offering comfort. Just waiting, like a man counting down the minutes for a bus.
A month later, he finally said the words I think hed rehearsed for weeks.
Im not happy anymore, Charlotte.
And that was it. No explanation, no emotion. Just an empty excuse.
The day James left, there were no shouts, no tears. Just icy silence.
What? My voice trembled.
He sighed, rubbing his temples as if I were the problem.
I just dont feel anything anymore. Its been like this for a while.
I swallowed hard.
Since we lost the baby?
His jaw tightened.
Its not about that.
The lie tasted bitter.
I searched his face for any flicker of remorsebut there was only indifference.
Five years, and you just walk away? My hands clenched under the table.
Another sighthis time impatient.
I dont want to argue, Charlotte.
A hysterical laugh escaped me.
Oh, now you dont want to argue? FunnyI didnt get a say in any of this.
He stood, grabbing his keys.
Ill stay with a friend.
The door slammed before I could reply.
Emily, my best friend, followed soon after. Shed been my rockuntil she vanished. Calls ignored. Messages left on read. Then, blocked everywhere.
I didnt understanduntil I did.
Mum found out first. One evening, she called, her voice tight.
Charlotte, love look at this.
She sent me a link to Emilys Instagram.
And there they were.
James and Emily. Smiling on a beach, laughing like theyd been in love for years.
I scrolled further, hands shaking. Picture after picturefancy restaurants, ski holidays, cosy nights by the fire. Posted openly, shamelesslywhile I was still his wife.
Betrayal burned through me. But if they thought Id break, they were wrong.
I channelled my pain into strength. James had been careless, too wrapped up in his fantasy to cover his tracks. In court, his infidelity became my leverage. I walked away with the house, half his savings, and the satisfaction of knowing he had to start over.
He took my trust. I took what was mine.
Starting over wasnt easy. But life rewards resilience.
A year later, I met Oliver.
He was everything James wasntkind, attentive, never dismissing my feelings as too much.
We built a real lifeno social media pretence. And soon, we welcomed our daughtera little girl with his smile and my eyes.
Then fate gave me the perfect ending.
One evening, I stopped at a petrol stationand there they were.
James and Emily.
No designer clothes now. No glossy photos. Just a rusty car, a shouting match at the counter, a crying toddler, and an empty bank card.
We cant even afford petrol? Emily hissed.
You knew money was tight, James snapped back.
Emily laughed bitterly.
Looks like Charlotte won in the end.
I started the engine and drove hometo my real happily ever after.
Sometimes, the best revenge is simply living well.
