After catching her husband and their neighbor’s daughter in the middle of an affair, Lexie didn’t break down or lash out. Instead, she devised a clever plan to serve up some sweet, sassy karma. Her response turned their betrayal into a satisfying revenge no one saw coming.
Mark and I had been married for ten years. With two kids, a mortgage, and what I thought was a solid life, I believed we were a team. Sure, Mark never helped around the house. I juggled work, kids, cooking, cleaning—you name it.
It was exhausting. But I told myself, “It’s fine. We’re in this together.”
Little did I know, Mark was playing on a different team.
It all started when I came home with an armful of groceries. As I pulled into the driveway, I heard voices from the porch—Mark’s and Emma’s. Emma, the 25-year-old daughter of our neighbors, was back from college with a shiny new internship. I was about to call out a greeting, but something made me stop.
I stayed hidden behind the car, out of sight but within earshot.
“I can’t believe she hasn’t caught on yet,” Emma giggled.
Mark laughed. “She’s so busy with the kids and housework. She doesn’t even take care of herself anymore. You’re miles better, princess.”
Emma chuckled. “Well, you’ve got me now. I’ll make sure you don’t have to deal with gray hair anytime soon.”
Then they kissed.
I stood frozen, the grocery bags digging into my hands, my eyes burning with unshed tears. Instead of confronting them, I quietly slipped in through the back door, put the groceries away, and started plotting.
The next morning, I stayed calm. I even made Mark’s favorite breakfast and sent him off to work with a kiss.
Then I went next door to see Emma.
She was surprised to see me but smiled politely. “Hi, Lexie! How’s it going?”
“Hi, Emma,” I said with a sweet smile. “I was hoping you could come over tomorrow evening. I could really use your input.”
She blinked. “Input?”
“Yes, I’m thinking about redoing the living room, and since you studied design, I thought you might help me choose colors and furniture. Just a little while.”
A hint of hesitation flickered in her eyes, but she tilted her head and smiled. “Of course! What time?”
“Seven would be perfect.”
The next evening, Emma showed up dressed to impress. I welcomed her with a smile and casually led her through the house.
Before we got to the living room, I “showed” her some important tasks.
“This is the dishwasher. You’ll need to load it every night—Mark never does. Here’s where the kids’ laundry goes. Make sure to separate colors; they have sensitive skin.”
I handed her a schedule for the kids’ activities and a list of contacts for the plumber, electrician, and pediatrician.
Emma’s confident smile faded fast.
I led her into the kitchen, where the smell of roast chicken filled the air.
“This is where you’ll handle all the meals—breakfast, lunches, snacks, dinners, desserts. Mark likes his steak medium-rare, but the kids will only eat it if it’s so cooked it’s nearly charred.”
Emma gasped, her face paling.
“Oh, and don’t expect Mark to say thank you,” I added sweetly. “Gratitude isn’t his thing. The kids are picky, but you’ll figure it out.”
Emma’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Uh…Lexie, I…this isn’t what I signed up for.”
Just then, Mark walked in and stopped short. “Lex, what’s going on?” he asked nervously.
I turned to him with a bright smile. “Oh, I thought I’d show Emma how to run the house since you think I’ve let myself go. She’ll be in charge while I focus on myself. I might even find a prince to spoil me. Emma, good luck.”
A knock at the door interrupted us. It was Emma’s parents, who’d often babysat our kids. They looked puzzled but greeted us warmly.
I beamed. “Thank you for raising such a helpful daughter. She’s so close to Mark now, I thought it was time she became part of the family.”
Emma’s mother frowned. “What are you saying?”
Emma stammered. “It’s not what it looks like!”
Mark tried to deflect. “Lexie, this isn’t fair! Emma’s just helping out. She kissed me first!”
I raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying you’re innocent? Really?”
Before he could say more, Emma’s father interrupted. “Let’s go, Emma. Now.”
Emma shot me a glare but left, her parents murmuring apologies.
Mark turned to me, desperate. “Lexie, please. Let’s talk this out.”
I smiled sweetly. “Sure. My lawyer will call you tomorrow. You might want to start packing.”
“Where am I supposed to go?” he whined.
“I don’t care, Mark,” I replied as I took the roast chicken out of the oven. “A motel, a friend’s couch, wherever. Just go.”
“And the kids?” he asked.
“They’re with my sister. You can tell them your side when the lawyers figure things out.”
A week later, I heard Emma dumped Mark. “I didn’t sign up to be a mom,” she said. Two weeks after that, Mark tried to crawl back with flowers and apologies.
I shut the door in his face.
Since that day, I’ve never been happier. I rediscovered my confidence and independence, even started salsa dancing. The kids and I have found a new rhythm full of love and laughter.
And as for Mark? He’s single. Emma’s parents don’t like her anymore either. Funny how karma works.