My husband left me for my best friend after my miscarriagethree years later, I ran into them at a petrol station and couldnt stop smiling.
When my husband started pulling away, I turned to my closest friend for support. She told me I was overreacting. Turns out, I wasnt. But three years later, fate let me see exactly how their betrayal played out.
I used to think affairs only happened to other peoplesomething you read about in dramatic tabloid stories or whispered about over Sunday roasts. But not to us. Never to us.
For five years, Michael and I built a life together. Maybe it wasnt flashy, but it was oursfilm nights on the sofa, lazy Sunday mornings with tea, inside jokes only we understood.
And all that time, there was Emmamy best mate from secondary school, my sister in everything but blood. She was there for every big moment, even at our wedding, standing beside me as my maid of honour, squeezing my hands and crying happy tears.
When I got pregnant, I thought it was just the next chapter of our perfect life.
But then Michael changed.
At first, it was little thingsstaying late at work, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. Then it got worse. He barely looked at me. Our conversations shrank to one-word answers. Nights were spent with his back turned, like I wasnt even there.
I didnt understand. I was exhausted, heavily pregnant, desperately trying to fix whatever had broken between us.
So I went to Emma.
«I dont know whats happening,» I sobbed into the phone, curled up in the dark while Michael slept soundly beside me. «Its like hes already gone.»
«Sophie, youre overthinking it,» she said gently. «He loves you. Its just stress.»
I wanted to believe her.
But the constant tensionsleepless nights, the ache of loneliness even with a husband beside mewore me down.
Then one morning, I woke up with a dull pain in my stomach. By evening, I was in hospital, watching the doctors lips move but not hearing a word.
No heartbeat.
No baby.
They say grief comes in waves. Mine was an avalanche.
The miscarriage shattered me, but Michael? He was already gone. He sat next to me in the hospital, cold and silent, never taking my hand, never offering comfort. Just sitting there like a man waiting for a bus, not mourning the loss of his child.
A month later, he finally said the words I think hed been rehearsing for weeks.
«Im not happy anymore, Sophie.»
And that was it. No explanation, no emotion. Just a hollow line.
The day Michael left, there was no shouting, no tears. Just icy silence.
«Im not happy anymore, Sophie.»
I blinked at him across the kitchen table, his words like a stone in my chest.
«What?» My voice shook.
He sighed, rubbing his temples like I was the problem.
«I just dont feel anything anymore. Its been a long time coming.»
«A long time.»
I swallowed hard.
«Since I lost the baby?»
His jaw tightened.
«Its not about that.»
The lie was almost laughable.
I stared at him, searching for any flicker of guilt or regret. But he just sat there, eyes down.
«Just like that? Five years, and you walk away?» My hands clenched under the table.
Another sigh, this time annoyed.
«I dont want to argue, Sophie.»
I laughedthat sharp, desperate laugh that comes when youre on the edge.
«Oh, you dont want to argue? Funny, because I didnt get a choice in any of this.»
He stood, grabbed his keys.
«Ill stay at a mates.»
Before I could speak, the door slammed.
Emma, my best friend, followed soon after. Shed been my rock, my lifeline. Then she just vanished. Calls went unanswered. Messages ignored. Then she blocked me everywhere.
I didnt understanduntil I did.
My mum found out first. One evening, she rang, her voice tight.
«Sophie, love look at this.»
She sent me a link to Emmas Instagram.
And there they were.
Michael and Emma. Hugging on a beach, laughing, looking like theyd been in love for years.
I scrolled, hands shaking. Photo after photo, week after week. Fancy restaurants, ski trips, cosy nights by the fire. Posted freelywhile I was still his wife.
The betrayal burned like acid. But if they thought Id crumble, they were wrong.
I took my pain and turned it into power. Michael had been careless, too wrapped up in his new life to cover his tracks. In court, his affair 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 those who keep going.
A year later, I met Daniel.
He was everything Michael wasntkind, attentive, never making me feel like my feelings were too much.
We built a life. A real one, not just for show. And soon after, our daughter was bornmy spitting image with his smile.
Then fate gave me the best ending.
One evening, I stopped at a petrol station. And there they were.
Michael and Emma.
But no designer clothes, no happy photos now. Their cara rusty wreck, an argument erupting in the shop, a crying toddler, a declined bank card.
«Cant even afford petrol now?» Emma hissed.
«You knew money was tight,» Michael snapped.
Emma laughed bitterly.
I think Sophie came out on top in the end.
I started the car and drove home. To my real happiness.
