When Lexie hears her husband and their neighbor’s daughter talking about their affair, she doesn’t break down or lash out. Instead, she begins to plan. With a clever invitation and a shocking turn of events, she turns the tables on their betrayal, serving up karma with a side of style. Revenge has never tasted so sweet.
Mark and I had been married for a decade, with two kids, a mortgage, and what I thought was a stable life. Sure, Mark never helped out around the house — I was the one juggling work, the kids, cooking, cleaning, everything. But I convinced myself, “It’s okay. We’re a team.”
Except Mark was playing on a different team.
Last week, I came home from a long grocery run. My arms full of bags, I heard voices on the porch — Mark and Emma, our 25-year-old neighbor’s daughter. They were laughing, and my name came up. Something in my gut told me to hide and listen.
“I can’t believe she hasn’t figured it out yet,” Emma laughed.
Mark chuckled. “She’s so wrapped up with the kids and housework. She doesn’t even look like a woman anymore. You’re so much better, my princess.”
Then they kissed.
I stood there frozen, clutching the grocery bags, a storm of emotions swirling inside me—anger, humiliation—but somehow, I remained calm. I didn’t say a word to them. Instead, I quietly slipped in through the back door and started strategizing.
The next morning, I kissed Mark goodbye with a sweet smile and drove straight to Emma’s house. When she opened the door, I greeted her warmly. “Emma, I could really use your expertise. Would you be able to stop by tomorrow evening? I’m thinking about redecorating the living room, and I know you’ve studied design.”
She smiled, completely oblivious. “Of course! What time should I come over?”
I returned her smile, masking my true intentions. “Seven works perfectly.”
She had absolutely no idea what was coming her way.
The next evening, Emma arrived looking polished. I welcomed her graciously and invited her in.
As I guided her through the house, I stopped at different spots, explaining each one with purpose.
“Here’s the dishwasher. You’ll need to make sure it’s loaded and run every night—Mark never bothers with it, obviously. The kids’ laundry goes in this room, but please separate the colors and whites because their skin can react badly to certain detergents.”
She stared at me, wide-eyed, unsure of how to respond.
“Oh, and here’s the schedule for all their after-school activities,” I continued, handing her a color-coded chart. “Tuesdays and Thursdays are pick-up days, but Wednesdays are your free days to run errands. I’ve also written down the plumber, electrician, and pediatrician’s contact info, just in case you need it.”
Her confident smile began to crumble, replaced by a pale, uneasy expression.
“And this,” I said, leading her into the kitchen where the aroma of roast chicken filled the air, “is where you’ll handle all the cooking. Trust me, there’s a lot to keep up with—breakfasts, packed lunches for school and work, snacks, dinners, desserts. Mark prefers his steak medium-rare, by the way, but the kids? They’ll only eat it if it’s cooked so thoroughly it’s practically a rock.”
She gasped, her composure shattering completely.
“And don’t expect Mark to say thank you,” I added, my tone light but pointed. “Gratitude isn’t really his strong suit. The kids are picky eater, but I’m sure you’ll manage to figure it all out eventually.”
Just then, Mark walked in. The moment he saw us, his face went pale.
“Lex, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice tight and trembling.
“Oh, Mark!” I replied brightly. “I was just walking Emma through everything she’ll need to handle around the house. I thought it was time for me to start focusing on me. And maybe it’s time for me to find someone who treats me like the princess I am.”
Turning back to Emma, I added cheerfully, “Good luck with everything! You’re going to need it.”v
Before either of them could say a word, there was a knock at the door.
When I opened it, Emma’s parents were standing there—Anne and Howard, the same kind couple who had often babysat my kids when I was in a pinch.
“Thank you for coming, Anne and Howard. And thank you for raising such a thoughtful daughter,” I began, smiling sweetly. “She and Mark have become so close that I figured it was time to officially welcome her into the family.”
“What are you talking about?” Anne asked, her expression shifting into confusion.
“I’m leaving,” I said lightly, “and Emma will be taking over from here. You must be so proud of her initiative!”
Anne turned to Emma, her voice laced with disbelief. “Emma, tell me this isn’t true. Tell me this isn’t what it seems.”
Emma’s face flushed as she stammered, “It’s not—It’s not what it looks like!”
Mark, unsurprisingly, tried to wriggle out of the situation.
“Lexie, this isn’t fair! Emma made the first move! She came onto me!” he protested, his voice rising in desperation.
“Oh, did she?” I said with a calm, raised brow. “So, you’re claiming you had absolutely no responsibility for sneaking around with a 25-year-old and disrespecting your wife in the process?”
Emma glared at me, her face twisted with anger, before storming out the door. Her parents hurried after her, mumbling apology after apology on their way out.
Mark turned back to me, panic written all over his face.
“Lexie, please,” he pleaded. “Can we just talk? We’ve been together for so long—you owe me that much, don’t you?”
I gave him a cold, bittersweet smile. “Oh, don’t worry, Mark,” I said. “We’ll talk—through my lawyer. He’ll call you tomorrow. But for now, I suggest you pack your things and leave.”
A week later, I heard from mutual friends that Emma had dumped Mark.
Two weeks after that, Mark came crawling back, begging for another chance. But I was so far beyond caring.
Months have passed since that fateful night, and I’ve never felt more alive. I’ve rediscovered parts of myself I thought were lost forever. I’ve taken up salsa dancing, and with it came a renewed sense of confidence, happiness, and freedom.
As for Mark? He’s still single. And, as I hear it, Emma’s parents aren’t exactly thrilled with her either. Funny enough, though, Anne now bakes pies and cakes for me regularly, and Howard swings by to rake the leaves in my yard.
Ah, karma. It has its way, doesn’t it?
