The Ultimate Betrayal—And My Sweetest Revenge
Everyone always said I was too kind. Too forgiving. I used to believe that if I poured love into the world, it would come back to me. And I used to think love lasted forever.
But after the wedding, that love faded. And so did Jack.
These days, he barely looked up from his phone. No more evening walks. No more surprise dinners. Not even a glance when I stood by the door in my coat, silently begging him to ask:
“Where are you going, Marie?”
That night was no different. Jack sprawled on the couch, flipping through channels like I didn’t exist.
“Jack, remember when we talked about a weekend getaway? Just the two of us?”
He didn’t even blink. “Why are you bringing this up again? I’ve got work tomorrow.”
“We don’t even eat dinner together anymore.”
He shrugged. “You’re here. I’m here. That’s together. What more do you want?”
I stared at his back, my heart sinking.
Then—his phone buzzed. A smirk curled on his lips as he read the message. And right on cue, my phone vibrated.
Linda.
I already knew what she’d say.
“Marie!” Her voice blasted through the speaker. “Please, please, please—can you watch the kids tonight? You’re my lifesaver!”
“Linda, I just babysat until midnight two nights ago—”
“Oh, don’t start!” She groaned dramatically. *”I don’t have a husband anymore. I need to *live* before I shrivel up and die alone!”*
She didn’t even pause to ask if I was free.
“Fine. I’ll be there in thirty.”
“Knew you’d say yes! You’re the best!” Click.
I grabbed my bag. Jack didn’t move.
“I’m going to Linda’s. Again. Because apparently, her kids can’t survive without me.”
Jack stretched, yawning. “Do whatever. I don’t care.”
The Trap
Linda’s house was quiet. The kids were asleep. I sipped tea on the couch, watching the clock.
2 AM.
Linda had been gone for seven hours.
What kind of ‘meeting’ lasts this long?
I checked on Billy—snoring softly, curled under his blanket. Little Cindy clutched her stuffed monkey, her tiny lips parted in sleep.
I love these kids. I really do.
Then—it hit me.
A sharp, suffocating pain in my chest.
No. Not now.
I fumbled for my inhaler—empty.
Panic clawed at my throat. I scrambled through my bag—nothing.
I stumbled outside, gasping. The neighbor, Gloria, was watering her flowers (at 2 AM, because of course she was).
“Marie? What’s wrong?”
“Gloria—” I wheezed. “Asthma attack—need my inhaler—have to go home—can you watch the kids?”
She dropped her gloves and gripped my shoulders. “Go! I’ve got them.”
I barely made it to the car.
Just hold on. Breathe. Just get home.
The Truth Hits Harder Than a Slap
The house was dark—except for the bedroom light.
Why is Jack still awake?
Then—I saw it.
Linda’s car in the driveway.
My stomach dropped.
No. No way.
Laughter floated down the stairs. A man’s voice. A woman’s.
From the bathroom.
I moved like a ghost, stepping over clothes—Jack’s shirt, Linda’s bracelet.
The scent of wine and bubbles filled the air.
I threw the door open.
“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MINDS?!”
Jack lounged in the tub, bubbles covering his chest. Linda giggled, twirling a wineglass with a strawberry on the rim.
They looked at me like I was the intruder.
“Marie?” Linda sneered. “You’re supposed to be with the kids!”
“WITH THE KIDS?!” My voice cracked. “While you’re HERE—with MY HUSBAND?!”
Jack took a lazy sip. “Guess I picked the wrong sister.”
The room spun. I stumbled to the bedroom—rose petals everywhere.
I grabbed my inhaler, collapsed on the floor, and clutched my knees.
Their laughter echoed through the walls.
And in that moment—sweet, kind Marie died.
Someone else was born.
A woman ready for revenge.
The Game Begins
At sunrise, I returned to Linda’s. The kids were still asleep.
Tommy—her youngest—lay drooling on his dinosaur pillow.
People always said, “Funny, Tommy doesn’t look like Linda… or her ex.”
I knew why.
I plucked a single blond hair from his brush and tucked it into a bag.
“Sorry, baby. But this is bigger than you.”
Gloria dozed in the chair. I knelt before her, tears burning.
“Gloria… my husband… with my sister.”
Her wrinkled hands cupped my face. “Oh, darling. You don’t deserve this.”
*”I want them to *pay,” I whispered.
Her grip tightened. “Then make them.”
The Final Blow
Two weeks later—the DNA results arrived.
70% match.
Close enough to destroy them.
But not the whole truth.
Because I knew exactly who Tommy’s father was.
That night, Jack stood in the hallway, suitcase in hand.
“I’m moving in with Linda.”
I smiled. “Good luck. It’s not over.”
The Revenge
I knocked on their door at sunset.
Linda answered in a silk robe, lipstick fresh.
“Marie?! What the hell—”
I pushed past her. “Where’s my husband?”
Jack emerged, beer in hand.
I dropped onto their pristine white couch.
“We need to talk.”
Linda scoffed. “Ignore her. She’s crazy.”
I locked eyes with Jack.
*”Ever wonder who Tommy’s *real* father is?”*
His grip tightened on the bottle. “Don’t drag the kid into this.”
I slid the DNA results across the table.
“Read it.”
Linda lunged—“DON’T!”
Jack’s face paled as he scanned the page.
“70%?! Linda—IS HE MINE?!”
She laughed—sharp, ugly.
*”Oh please. You really think I’d have kids with my broke ex? Or *you?”
Jack’s voice shook. “Then WHO?!”
Linda smirked.
*”Your *brother*, Jack. *Rick.* The golden boy.”*
Jack staggered back. “WHAT?!”
*”He pays me every month to keep quiet. Clothes, trips, nails—his *guilt* buys me more than any husband ever did.”*
Jack’s fists clenched. “You’re disgusting.”
Linda rolled her eyes. *”And you’re *boring.* Rick was fun. You were just… convenient.“*
I stood, smoothing my dress.
*”Guess you *did* pick the wrong sister, Jack.”*
Then—small footsteps.
Cindy and Tommy peeked out, wide-eyed.
I knelt, smiling.
“Hey, sweethearts. Let’s get ice cream.”
Tommy hesitated. “But Mom—”
“Mom’s busy yelling at Uncle Jack.” I winked. “Chocolate or strawberry?”
“BOTH!”
I took their hands, stepping into the sunlight as screams erupted behind us.
Sister’s biggest lie.
My sweetest revenge.
And as we walked away, I smiled.
This was just the beginning.