My Husband Tried to Kill Me for His Mistress

"I'll go check on the kids. You get ready quickly," Megan said as she stepped out.

I nodded and pretended to fix my makeup. The moment she left, I quickly pulled out a long sun-protective jacket and tucked it into my bag. I needed to be fully prepared this time. I couldn't let history repeat itself and risk my daughter’s future again.

The first day of the college entrance exam was sweltering. Oddly, Megan—who always hated the sun—was unusually chipper.

"What a beautiful day," she said brightly. "The kids will definitely do well."

I stood anxiously by the school gate with my daughter Lora, but my focus wasn't on the exam or the heat. It was on the gown I wore. Though I had secretly swapped it with Megan’s, I still couldn’t be sure it wasn’t tampered with. My hand stayed near the sun-protective jacket in my bag, just in case.

Then it happened—just like before.

A sharp scream came from the crowd.

"Look! That woman’s dress ripped!"

My heart nearly stopped. I immediately glanced down at my own clothes, ready to pull out the jacket, but then Lora grabbed my arm.

"Mom, look! Aunt Megan’s clothes are torn!"

I looked up and saw her—Megan—panic-stricken, clutching at the shredded gown. The tight fabric had split open, revealing her undergarments. She looked utterly lost, hands crossed over her chest as she tried to hide herself.

"It's so embarrassing. Why wear such cheap clothes to an exam?"

"Yeah, what a mess."

"Tsk, though she’s got a nice figure, right?"

"Way better than my wife’s. Look at that skin."

The crowd’s voices were a mix of ridicule and vulgar curiosity. Phones were out, recording. Faces sneered. I had been in that exact spot once—and now, I watched from the other side.

Then I saw it.

Megan’s eyes locked on mine. They burned with hatred.

So it was her. I had suspected it before, but now I knew. She was the one who sabotaged me in my past life. The one who destroyed my daughter’s future—and mine.

"Mom, you’re so embarrassing!" Brad shouted, stomping over. "How can I take the exam now with everyone staring at us?"

He glared at her like she was filth. That boy had always been spoiled, never once taught empathy. He turned and stormed off, ignoring her desperate hands reaching for him.

"Brad, wait! Mom doesn’t know what happened—go take the exam, I’ll fix this!"

But he was gone. And she was alone in the chaos.

No one helped her. Some laughed, some whispered, some filmed. I stood there, unmoving, remembering exactly how this felt—how cold and humiliating it had been for me.

"Mama, I’ll give Aunt Megan my jacket," Lora said, already taking it off.

I stopped her.

"Lora, I brought extra clothes. I’ll give them to Aunt Megan. You go in and do your best, okay? Don’t let this little thing affect your big day."

She nodded, gave me one last look, and walked toward the school with quiet confidence.

I turned and slowly made my way to Megan, who was now crouched on the ground, sobbing. She kept her head low, muttering to herself, surrounded by mocking eyes.

I handed her the sun jacket without a word.

She looked up at me. Her face was streaked with tears and fury. The moment our eyes met, her expression twisted into a look of pure hatred.

She knew.

And now, so did I.

She was the one who hurt me. She was the one who ruined everything.