I’m Ariana, 32 years old, and until just a week ago, I thought I was living the dream. Loving husband? Check. Loyal best friend? Check. A happy, stable life? Double check.
Or so I thought…
It all began when my husband, Tom, came home one evening practically buzzing with excitement.
“Honey, this is huge,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “There’s a big corporate event coming up. If I nail this presentation, I might get the promotion we’ve been waiting for!”
I grinned, already imagining the champagne we’d pop when he got the news. “That’s amazing, babe! When is it?”
“In two weeks, at the Grandview Hotel downtown.”
For the next two weeks, Tom was barely home. Every night, he’d drag himself in looking exhausted.
“Just perfecting my presentation,” he’d mumble, kissing my cheek before collapsing into bed.
I played the perfect supportive wife. I kept the house spotless, made his favorite meals, and even ironed his shirts so crisp you could cut paper with them.
The night before his “big event,” I cooked his favorite carbonara. He barely ate, saying he needed to sleep early.
The next morning, I woke up before him, made a big breakfast, and straightened his tie. “You’re going to knock their socks off,” I said with a smile.
Tom gave me a distracted nod. “Thanks, honey. I better run!” And just like that, he was gone.
That’s when fate threw the first punch.
An hour later, while tidying up, I spotted his laptop on the coffee table. My stomach dropped. His entire presentation was on that laptop. Without it, his big shot at the promotion was toast.
“Oh no…” I muttered. I grabbed my keys and the laptop, determined to be his hero.
The Grandview Hotel was grand indeed—polished marble floors, gold-trimmed pillars—but eerily quiet for such a “big corporate event.”
I went to the reception desk. “Hi, I’m looking for the Apex Industries corporate event?”
The receptionist, a warm, middle-aged woman named Linda, frowned. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t have any corporate events scheduled today.”
My smile faltered. “There must be some mistake. My husband is here… could you check for a Tom Johnson?”
Linda typed into her computer, then nodded. “Yes, Mr. Johnson is in room 1408.”
Room… 1408? Not a conference hall? My pulse quickened.
I took the elevator up, heart pounding louder with each ding. As I turned the corner toward his room, I froze.
There he was—Tom—his arm snug around… Lisa. My best friend Lisa. They were laughing, whispering, their heads close.
Lisa’s hand slid into his as they strolled to the door of 1408.
I snapped a photo. Proof. Cold, undeniable proof.
Tears blurred my vision, but my voice stayed silent. I turned and walked back to the lobby.
Linda’s eyes softened when she saw me. “Oh, honey… I’m so sorry.”
I swallowed hard. “Linda, I need your help.”
And just like that, a revenge plan was born.
First, I called Lisa’s husband, Mark. “Hey Mark, it’s Ariana. Lisa asked me to tell you to meet her at the Grandview Hotel right away. She said it’s important.”
He sounded confused, but agreed. While we waited, Linda helped arrange the next step.
When Mark arrived, I pulled him aside. My voice shook but my words were steady. “She’s here—with Tom. I have proof.” I showed him the photo.
Mark’s face went pale, then red. “I can’t believe this… What do you want to do?”
I gave him a grim smile. “We’re going to make this a night they’ll never forget.”
Linda worked her magic to “accidentally” schedule an elevator glitch. Mark borrowed a hotel maintenance uniform.
When Tom and Lisa finally left the room, Mark slipped into the elevator with them.
“Evening, folks,” Mark said cheerfully, playing the part. “Enjoying your night?”
Tom stiffened. “Uh, yeah… just a quiet night in.”
Lisa forced a giggle. “Yeah, just a little getaway.”
The elevator jolted to a stop. Lights flickered.
Mark tapped the panel. “Looks like we’re stuck. Happens sometimes. You two here for business or pleasure? We get all sorts—corporate execs, secret lovers…”
Tom’s voice cracked. “Bit of both.”
“Oh?” Mark grinned. “Funny, last week a couple got caught cheating here. Ran right into their spouses in the lobby. Awkward.”
Silence. Then the elevator hummed back to life.
On the first floor, Mark slipped out just before the doors opened… revealing me standing there.
Tom’s jaw dropped. “Ariana—this isn’t what it looks like—”
“Save it,” I said coldly.
Lisa’s eyes welled. “Ariana, please—”
Mark stepped forward, pulling off his cap. “I think we’ve heard enough.”
The confrontation that followed was ugly. There were shouts, accusations, tears. By the end, two marriages lay in ruins.
That night, I sat in my—my—apartment, feeling pain, betrayal, and… relief. The truth was out. I was free.
Weeks later, I’m rebuilding. I’ve reconnected with old friends, picked up painting, and even downloaded a dating app—not that I’m ready to use it.
Some mornings I forget for a moment, but when I remember, it doesn’t break me. It makes me stronger.
As for Tom and Lisa? They’re still together. Maybe they’re miserable. Maybe not. I honestly don’t care. They’re not worth my time.
The future isn’t what I planned—but I think it’s going to be even better.