Her Fake Affair Was Real Enough To Convince Me

I was suddenly added to an “adult content group.”

The moment I tapped in, a flood of GIFs and selfies hit me like a wave.

All of them showed real faces, girlfriends, wives, and even some labeled “real sisters.”

Some were snapped in restrooms, others in offices or out in the open. The content was shockingly explicit, while the comments below ran wild.

“That body’s unreal!”

“Drop the source!”

“Begging for the full video!”

I was just about to leave when a new post appeared under the label. [Fresh scoop! Just got this top-tier married woman from a proper family!]

The woman wore a black blindfold, lips faintly curved into a smile. Her pale, full chest was barely covered, dazzlingly white under the camera’s flash.

But what caught my attention most was the silver, heart-shaped necklace resting perfectly between her collarbones.

I felt like I’d been struck by lightning.

That necklace. I had just given it to Averie yesterday for our third anniversary.

——

I stared at the photo, my throat parched, and my voice stuck in my chest.

My stomach twisted.

A chill rushed through me.

My hands trembled as I zoomed in slowly, trying to see every detail.

The collarbone, the skin tone, the shape of her lips, and that tiny mole I knew far too well.

It was her. It was Averie Collins, my wife.

A cold sweat soaked my back, and a sharp ringing pierced through my ears.

Beneath the photo, vulgar comments poured in like sewage.

“Bro’s got taste. Something about these decent ones hits differently.”

“Those eyes? Pure seduction. She’s built to ruin men.”

“Where’s the video? Stop teasing and drop it!”

The screen blurred as if I’d been thrown into a bottomless pit. Every filthy word scorched my skin like acid.

“This… can’t be happening…”

I muttered, and my phone slipped from my hand, clattering to the floor.

The buzzing in my ears grew louder, like a hive of bees crawling through my skull.

Averie. My wife. The woman who blushed from a kiss, who couldn’t meet my eyes after a hug. She’d always been shy, even with me.

How could she possibly have such a humiliating side?

My fingers went numb. My limbs locked up. My scalp prickled as if someone had ripped it open.

And the group was still going strong.

“That body? I could beat it to this for a year straight.”

“Where’s the source?”

“Does anyone know if she’s local? Can we hook up?”

I stared at the photo.

That necklace resting below her collarbone, it gleamed like a cruel joke, like it was placed there just for me to see.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to tear through the screen and throttle every one of them. But I couldn’t move.

Cold sweat trickled down my spine, soaking my back.

Then, that same user ID popped up again with another message. [More goodies waiting for you to unlock.]

Followed by a disgusting emoji.

Someone replied instantly. [Can we meet up? In-person?]

And the response came just as fast. [Only if you’re local.]

My chest tightened. The city he mentioned was ours.

Then, a new name appeared in the chat, “Wealthy Cyrus.”

[Neighboring city. I can head over now! I’ll even pay extra!]

Pay extra? Just to meet my wife?

My lungs burned. My teeth clenched. A low growl escaped my throat. “Bastard.”

My finger dug into the screen so hard I nearly shattered it. I wanted to report it, destroy it, quit the group, wipe it all from existence.

But something stopped me.

I couldn’t leave. Not yet. I needed proof.

My hands shook as I began screen recording, snapping screenshots one by one, every photo, every filthy comment, every username.

I opened the messaging app, ready to confront my wife, when a new message popped up.

[Honey, I’m working late tonight, don’t wait up.]

It was from Averie.

It made me froze.

In that instant, my heart flipped upside down, convulsing like it had been seized by a fist.