Revenge on My Cheating Husband with His Best Friend

Sean knows exactly what bags I like. He fills my wardrobe with the latest collections, paying attention to every little thing. When I mentioned I had a heart condition, he started worrying even more. But even with all that, he still let another woman bear his child.

"Michelle, Mom called. She wants us to go to the house for dinner tomorrow," Sean said, his voice soft as he walked into the kitchen holding a bowl of soup.

I’d been out drinking the night before, and he knew it. So here he was, making me hangover soup with that concerned look he always gave me, the one he saved just for me.

When he handed me the bowl, his eyes were full of care. "We haven’t been to the house in a while. Tomorrow, I’ll take you with me. It’ll be a good chance to clear your head."

I just stared at him, feeling the weight of everything crashing down on me.

"I’m not feeling well tomorrow," I said, my voice flat, numb.

Sean pressed a little more, asking if I was sure, but when he saw I wasn’t budging, he just nodded and went on with his day. Like nothing was wrong.

...

The next afternoon, something clicked in my head. I remembered I’d left a few things at the old house. And if I’m going through with this divorce, I might as well take everything with me. So, I called a taxi and headed over, thinking I’d be in and out without a fuss.

But when I walked in, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw—everyone was there, all smiles, welcoming Veronica.

It felt like a punch to the gut. Sean, who’d never even mentioned her to the family, had brought her to the old house and they were all celebrating her pregnancy like it was the best news in the world.

Sean’s mom was holding Veronica’s hand like she was some sort of queen.

"This is great! Our family will finally have a grandchild!" she beamed.

"I can finally get what I wanted—a grandson to hold soon!" she added, her eyes sparkling with joy.

My sister-in-law, Tabitha, couldn't hide her disgust. "She’s just my brother’s mistress. What’s the point of her having the child? It’s still an illegitimate one."

Before anyone could respond, Sean’s mom whipped around, furious. "Don’t you dare say such things!"

"If it weren’t for your sister-in-law not being able to get pregnant, would I have to pray to the gods every damn day for a grandson?" she shouted.

"What’s wrong with an illegitimate child?" she continued, voice rising with every word. "He’s still part of our family!"

And then, as if on cue, Sean's mom turned on me.

"It’s all because of Michelle," she spat. "If she could’ve had a child, you wouldn’t have been stuck with her all these years. Now look at her—heart disease, no children in sight!"

The words sliced through me, and I could barely stop myself from flinching.

"And now she can’t even have children, so what’s the point? She’s infertile, Sean!"

Sean’s mother was relentless. "Hurry up and divorce her. Veronica’s pregnant with our family’s child. Marry her so your son has a real name!"

“Mom, Don’t say things like that!” Sean snapped, his voice low and furious. "Stop! Even if Veronica has a kid, I’ll adopt it and raise it as my own."

Sean's mom just sneered at him. "You really have no backbone, huh? Letting one woman walk all over you."

At that point, Tabitha couldn’t stay quiet any longer. She shot up, her face flushed with anger. "Mom, how can you be so ungrateful? If it weren’t for Michelle, I’d be dead right now. She saved my life!"

"You promised you’d treat her like your own daughter!" Tabitha’s voice was shaking. "It’s just that she can’t have kids. Why are you being so cruel..."

But before she could say more, Sean's mom slapped her across the face.

Tabitha ran out, tears in her eyes, the sound of the door slamming echoing through the house.

For a moment, the room was silent. And I felt something strange—like there were still a few people here who remembered what I’d done for them. But it didn’t matter, because Sean let all this happen. He let other women and other children into our lives without a second thought.

This house… it wasn’t a home anymore.

A few days later, I got a message from Grayson.

[I got it. How do you want to thank me?]

He sent a picture of the divorce agreement. The last page had Sean’s signature on it. I stared at the photo for a moment, my heart pounding.

"How did you do it?" I whispered, barely believing it.

I’d been racking my brain, trying to figure out how I could ever get Sean to sign the papers. I knew he’d never agree to it—not without a fight.

But here it was, in Grayson’s hands—Sean’s signature, clear as day. It was real.