When I found out my wife was cheating, I saw a chance instead of feeling heartbroken. Little did I know, my plan to make money off her affair would lead me into some dark places, forcing me to face the real price of freedom.
I always had a feeling Claire was cheating on me. It wasn’t hard to figure out with all the late-night texts, sudden work trips, and secretive phone calls. But I never confronted her. Honestly, I didn’t even feel anything when I realized what was going on. We’d been married for so long that my feelings had dried up.
My biggest worry wasn’t the affair—it was the idea of getting a divorce. I knew it would destroy me financially. I was dependent on Claire’s big salary to keep our lives going. She was paying for our apartment, insurance, groceries—everything. So, I just gritted my teeth and pretended everything was fine.
Then one day, while doing laundry, I found a crumpled-up credit card receipt from a fancy restaurant in Claire’s jeans pocket. The name on it? Alex M—.
“Ohhh,” I said out loud to the empty laundry room. Suddenly, everything clicked. I knew who Alex was. He was an old friend of her father’s, a guy I’d seen a few times at her dad’s birthday parties.
I remembered Alex from those events. He was rich, a bit soft around the edges, and always looked at Claire like she was the best thing that ever happened to him. Back then, I thought he was just being friendly. But now? Now I knew better.
I sat down on the cold tile floor, holding the receipt, and started laughing. But it wasn’t a happy laugh. It was the kind of laugh you’d hear from someone who’s losing their mind.
“Tom?” Claire 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. I kept thinking about Alex and Claire, about the sudden surge of money in our account, and about the new car I got for my birthday. It all made sense now.
The next morning, I waited until Claire left for “work” before I dug into her old phone. She’d always been careless with her passcode—4673, our anniversary. Ironic, right?
What I found made my stomach turn. Old messages to Alex, full of hearts and kisses. Texts to her friends, gushing about how amazing he was. But there was something else too, something I didn’t expect.
“I still love Tom,” one message to her friend read. “But we needed the money. Alex… he’s just a means to an end. Is that terrible?”
Her friend replied quickly, “Girl, you gotta do what you gotta do. But be careful. This could blow up in your face.”
I snorted. If only she knew.
I scrolled further and found messages between Claire and Alex. It was clear: Alex was head over heels for her, and Claire was just stringing him along.
“I wish you’d leave him,” Alex’s message read. “We could be so happy together.”
Claire’s reply was noncommittal. “You know it’s complicated, Alex. Let’s just enjoy what we have.”
I put the phone down, my mind racing. An idea was forming, wild and brilliant all at once. Why not use this to my advantage?
I saved Alex’s number to my phone and waited, biding my time, planning my move.
A week later, I made the call. My heart pounded as the phone rang.
“Hello?” Alex’s voice was deep and confident.
I took a deep breath. “Alex? This is Tom, Claire’s husband.”
The silence on the other end was almost deafening. I could imagine the gears turning in his head.
Finally, he spoke. “Tom. What can I do for you?”
I cut straight to the point. “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.”
Another long pause. I could hear him breathing.
“Why would I give you money?” he asked finally.
I let out a short, bitter laugh. “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 like he couldn’t believe it.
“Alex, my man, 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 quiet for so long that I thought he’d hung up. Then he said, “I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think too long,” I said. “Offer expires in 48 hours.”
I hung up before he could respond. 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 felt like the longest of my life. I jumped every time my phone buzzed, expecting it to be Alex. But it was always someone else—a spam call, a text 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. The gesture, which used to be comforting, now made my skin crawl. I pulled away, pretending I needed to refill my water glass.
When the 48-hour mark approached, I started to panic. What if Alex called my bluff? What if he told Claire? 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 shaking 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 didn’t have the heart 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 of divorce papers on the coffee table in front of me.
“Tom?” Her voice was uncertain. “What’s going on?”
I looked up at her, really looked at her for the first time in months. She was beautiful, sure. But all I felt was… nothing.
“It’s over, Claire,” I said, my voice steady. “I know about Alex.”
Her face went white. “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 sank 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 was genuine. “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 sobbing behind me, begging me to stay, to talk about it. But I was done talking.
I checked into a cheap motel that night, lying on the lumpy bed and staring at the water-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 slowly 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 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?
