The phone call came while I was at a teachers' conference, Gabby's best friend on the line, voice tight with fake concern. "Ethan, you need to come home. Gabby had to have emergency surgery. A ruptured appendix." I raced back through a brutal storm, only to find her hospital room filled with laughing friends. Gabby, groggy from anesthesia, smiled and said, "I need him. I can't sleep without him." A wave of relief washed over me, but then her eyes focused, and the warmth vanished. "Get away from me!" she screamed, recoiling. "You're not my husband! My husband is Caleb!" The room went silent, her friends avoiding my gaze, and in that sickening moment, I knew they all knew. She mumbled for Caleb, praising his "six-pack" that helped her sleep, then her eyes locked on mine one last time. "Pushover." Then he walked in, Caleb, and Gabby kissed him deeply, passionately, right in front of me, shattering my entire world. But the ultimate betrayal wasn't the kiss, it was the chilling discovery weeks later: my wife, pregnant, caressing her belly with her lover, laughing as she called me a "pushover" and planned to string me along for her empire's financial gain. My life, my love, our history-all a lie, a calculated con. The ice formed in my veins when I realized I was just her conveniently duped ATM. It was then, in that moment of absolute revulsion, that I knew I couldn't just walk away; I had to meticulously plan her downfall.
The phone call came while I was at a teachers' conference, Gabby's best friend on the line, voice tight with fake concern.
"Ethan, you need to come home. Gabby had to have emergency surgery. A ruptured appendix."
I raced back through a brutal storm, only to find her hospital room filled with laughing friends.
Gabby, groggy from anesthesia, smiled and said, "I need him. I can't sleep without him."
A wave of relief washed over me, but then her eyes focused, and the warmth vanished.
"Get away from me!" she screamed, recoiling.
"You're not my husband! My husband is Caleb!"
The room went silent, her friends avoiding my gaze, and in that sickening moment, I knew they all knew.
She mumbled for Caleb, praising his "six-pack" that helped her sleep, then her eyes locked on mine one last time.
"Pushover."
Then he walked in, Caleb, and Gabby kissed him deeply, passionately, right in front of me, shattering my entire world.
But the ultimate betrayal wasn't the kiss, it was the chilling discovery weeks later: my wife, pregnant, caressing her belly with her lover, laughing as she called me a "pushover" and planned to string me along for her empire's financial gain.
My life, my love, our history-all a lie, a calculated con.
The ice formed in my veins when I realized I was just her conveniently duped ATM.
It was then, in that moment of absolute revulsion, that I knew I couldn't just walk away; I had to meticulously plan her downfall.
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