When I found out my wife was cheating, I saw it as a chance, not a disaster. Little did I know that my plan to profit from her affair would make me question everything I believed in, forcing me to face the real price of freedom.
I had known for a while that Claire was unfaithful. It wasn’t hard to figure out—late-night texts, sudden work trips, secretive phone calls. But I didn’t confront her. I didn’t even feel angry or sad. After being married for so long, I realized I didn’t have any feelings left for her.
The real problem was, I couldn’t afford a divorce. If we split, I’d be ruined financially. Claire made the big bucks and paid for everything—our apartment, insurance, groceries. I was dependent on her income. So, I kept quiet, pretended everything was normal, and hoped for the best.
Then one day, while doing laundry, I found a crumpled receipt in her jeans pocket. It was from a fancy restaurant, the kind we never went to. The name on the bill? Alex M—.
“Ohhhh,” I said to myself in the empty laundry room, suddenly putting the pieces together. I knew this guy. Alex was a friend of Claire’s father. I’d seen him a few times at her dad’s birthday parties.
I remembered Alex clearly—rich, a little overweight, always looking at Claire like she was a goddess. At the time, I thought he was just being friendly. Now, I knew better.
I sat on the cold tile floor, receipt in hand, and started laughing. It wasn’t a happy laugh, more like the kind of laugh you hear from someone who’s lost their mind.
“Tom?” Claire’s voice called down from upstairs. “Everything okay?”
I quickly crumpled the receipt and shoved it in my pocket. “Yeah, fine. Just… stubbed my toe.”
That night, I couldn’t sleep. My mind kept racing, thinking about Alex and Claire, about the sudden extra money we seemed to have, about the new car I got for my birthday. Everything started making sense.
The next morning, after Claire left for “work,” I grabbed her old phone. She’d never been good at keeping her passcode a secret—4673, our anniversary. Ironic, right?
What I found on her phone made my stomach turn. Old messages to Alex, full of hearts and kisses. Messages to her friends, bragging about how wonderful he was. But there was something else too, something I didn’t expect.
“I still love Tom,” she had texted a friend. “But we needed the money. Alex… he’s just a means to an end. Is that terrible?”
Her friend responded quickly, “Girl, you gotta do what you gotta do. But be careful. This could blow up in your face.”
I snorted. If only they knew.
I kept scrolling through the messages between Claire and Alex. It was obvious: Alex was head over heels, and Claire was leading him on.
“I wish you’d leave him,” Alex had written. “We could be so happy together.”
Claire’s reply was vague, “You know it’s complicated, Alex. Let’s just enjoy what we have.”
I put the phone down, my mind spinning with ideas. A crazy, brilliant plan was forming. Why not use this situation to my advantage?
I saved Alex’s number to my phone and waited, letting the plan take shape in my head.
A week later, I made the call. My heart was racing as I listened to the phone ring.
“Hello?” Alex’s voice was deep, confident.
I took a deep breath. “Alex? This is Tom, Claire’s husband.”
The silence on the other end was deafening. I could almost hear him thinking.
Finally, he spoke. “Tom. What can I do for you?”
I didn’t waste any time. “I know about you and Claire. I know you’re paying our bills. I’m willing to walk away, file for divorce, and let you have her. But I need something from you.”
“And what’s that?” His voice was cautious now.
“Fifty thousand dollars. To start over.”
There was a long pause. I could hear him breathing.
“Why would I give you money?” he asked eventually.
I laughed, but it was a bitter, cold sound. “Because if I leave her and break her heart, she’ll finally be yours. I just need a fresh start. Think of it as… an investment in your future happiness.”
“You’d do that? Just walk away?” He sounded shocked.
“Alex, I checked out of this marriage a long time ago. I’m just looking for a way out that doesn’t leave me broke.”
He was silent for so long I thought he might have hung up. Then, “I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think too long,” I said. “Offer expires in 48 hours.”
I hung up before he could say anything else. My hands were shaking as I put the phone down. I’d done it. Now all I could do was wait.
The next two days were the longest of my life. Every time my phone buzzed, I jumped, expecting it to be Alex. But it was never him. Just spam calls and texts from my mom. Never Alex.
Claire noticed something was off. “You okay, honey?” she asked over dinner. “You seem distracted.”
I forced a smile. “Just work stuff. Nothing to worry about.”
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. What used to be a comforting gesture now made my skin crawl. I pulled away, pretending I needed to refill my water glass.
When the 48-hour deadline was close, I started to panic. What if Alex called my bluff? What if he told Claire everything? What if…
My phone buzzed. Unknown number.
“Hello?” I answered, my voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s done,” Alex said. “Check your account.”
I scrambled for my laptop, logging into my bank account with trembling fingers. And there it was: $50,000. Just like that.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Just… take care of her, okay?” I added, almost pleading.
I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth—that Claire was using him just like she’d used me. Instead, I just said, “Goodbye, Alex,” and hung up.
I sat there for a long time, staring at the computer screen. $50,000. My ticket to freedom. My chance at a new life.
I heard Claire’s car pull into the driveway. It was time.
I was sitting on the couch when she walked in. A folder with divorce papers was on the coffee table in front of me.
“Tom?” Her voice was shaky. “What’s going on?”
I looked up at her, really looked at her for the first time in months. She was still beautiful, but all I felt was… nothing.
“It’s over, Claire,” I said, my voice calm. “I know about Alex.”
Her face went pale. “Tom, I can explain…”
I held up a hand. “Don’t bother. I don’t want explanations. I want a divorce.”
She stood up, walked a few steps away, and collapsed into the armchair across from me, her legs seemingly unable to hold her up anymore. “But… but what about money? The apartment? Our life?”
I smiled, and for the first time in years, it felt real. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine.”
As I walked out of that apartment for the last time, a duffel bag slung over my shoulder, I felt lighter than I had in years. Claire was crying behind me, begging me to stay, to talk about it. But I was done talking.
That night, I checked into a cheap motel, lying on the lumpy bed and staring at the stained ceiling. My phone kept buzzing. Claire. Alex. Claire again. I ignored them all.
In the morning, I’d start looking for a new place to live, a new job, a new life. But for now, I just lay there, feeling the weight of the past few years lifting off my chest.
Just as I was drifting off to sleep, my phone buzzed one more time. Against my better judgment, I checked it.
It was a text from Claire: “I’m sorry. I really did love you.”
I stared at the message for a long time before typing out a reply: “I know. But sometimes love isn’t enough.” I hit send, then turned off my phone. Tomorrow was a new day, and for the first time in years, I was looking forward to it.
What would you have done?
