The Genius Wife's Revenge: My Husband's Mistress Took My Place

The preschool graduation trip payment group chat had just dropped an ultimatum.

Parents were required to attend. Thirty thousand dollars per family.

I was about to send the money when a payment screenshot popped up in the group.

A woman with a baby-bump profile picture sent a voice message: "Gabriel Whitney's parent has paid. Looking forward to a trip for the three of us!"

A chill ran through me. I opened the screenshot and zoomed in, over and over.

The name on the payment was my husband, Zane Whitney.

And Gabriel was my son. Where had this woman come from?

I called Zane right away. His end was very quiet.

"Babe, the company's system crashed tonight. I have to pull an all-nighter. You and Gabe get some sleep early."

My hand wouldn't stop shaking.

Half an hour earlier, his boss had posted photos of a company-wide holiday retreat.

I took a deep breath, smiled, and said okay, you work hard.

The moment I hung up, I opened the Alienware laptop I hadn't touched in seven years and hacked straight into his cloud.

Three minutes later, every transfer under Zane's name and every hotel check-in record filled the screen.

I smiled.

A trip for the three of them, is it? Then every account that's owed gets settled. Not a single one gets away.

——

Early the next morning, Zane pushed open the door, a fancy insulated container in his hand.

"Babe, I brought you crab-roe buns. Eat them while they're hot."

"Fixing that system took all night. I'm dead tired."

His shirt was rumpled, his eyes bloodshot, the very picture of a man who'd just worked through the night.

I sat on the couch and watched him perform.

He came over to hug me, and a faint whiff of perfume drifted off him.

Jo Malone Bluebell. The perfume I'd wanted for so long.

But he'd always told me I already had a child, that I should keep things simple, that I didn't need any of that, and so he'd never let me buy it.

Turned out it wasn't that I didn't need it. It was that I wasn't worthy of it.

I pushed him away coldly and pulled up the screenshot from last night's group chat.

"What's this payment record about?"

On the screenshot, the payer: Zane Whitney.

A flicker of panic crossed his face.

"Why are you reading the group messages? Your postpartum depression only just got better. Didn't I tell you to rest more? Leave everything about the kid to me."

"Stop worrying so much. I'll take Gabe on the graduation trip this weekend myself."

The picture of a good husband, just like always.

"Is that so?"

I played the woman's voice message.

"Gabriel Whitney's parent has paid. Looking forward to a trip for the three of us!"

Zane's face went white in an instant.

His throat bobbed, his eyes darted, and he picked up his water glass.

"That's the company cashier. I asked her to pay it for me."

"The cashier's profile picture is a maternity photo?"

"She just got pregnant, that's all. It's normal." His smile turned stiff.

"Then why did she send a voice message about looking forward to a trip for the three of us?" I kept pressing.

"Sally Swanson, can you stop being so suspicious all the time! I bust my back out there every single day making money, and I come home to get interrogated by you?"

Turning the blame around.

The classic move of a cheating man.

The truth was he wanted to get close to Lorraine Fox, the cashier, so he could climb another rung at the company and skim more off the top.

But he'd probably forgotten that the only reason he'd made department manager in just a few short years was the handful of core patents I'd handed the company back then.

Without me, he was nothing.

"I'm not interrogating you."

My tone was calm. I decided to hold back and watch how things unfolded, to gather more evidence.

"Since that's the case, you take Gabe yourself."

He let out a breath of relief.

"Now you're talking. Rest up, babe. I'll bring you back a gift."

I faked a smile and helped him out of his jacket, the same as always.

But this time, I slipped his phone off him.

"Go take a shower. You smell like sweat."

He didn't notice anything off. He smiled and kissed my forehead.

"Sure. I'll have breakfast with you and Gabe after."

Swallowing my disgust, I kept smiling.

The bathroom door closed, and the water started running.

I quickly grabbed the laptop off the table, ready to make a backup.

Last night I'd already dug up his transfer records.

Now I wanted to see his chat logs.

But the passwords on his main phone and his backup phone weren't our wedding anniversary anymore.

Our son's birthday? Wrong too.

I let out a bitter laugh.

I typed in the information I'd stayed up all night uncovering: that woman's birthday.

The phone unlocked. But what came onto the screen made my eyes go wide in disbelief.