Revenge on My Cheating Husband with His Best Friend

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but all these are fake.”

I stood there, completely stunned.

Without missing a beat, I pulled out all the gold, silver, jewelry, and accessories that Sean had given me over the years of our marriage. I watched as they examined each piece meticulously. By the time they finished the appraisal, the staff had fallen into an awkward silence.

“Ma’am, these are also fake.”

I couldn’t help but sneer, a hint of self-mockery flickering in my eyes. 'Sean, is this what you call love? So cheap.'

Later that day, Sean informed me, “Michelle, I’ll be going on a business trip for a few months to negotiate a big deal. You just stay home and rest.”

“I’ll spend time with you when I get back. Be good,” he added with a smile.

I spent the entire day waiting in the living room, hoping Sean would explain.

Instead, I received this message: [Since that’s the case, let me surprise you as well.]

Feeling frustrated, I texted Grayson: [Same hotel, same place. Tonight, no one leaves until we’re drunk.]

That night, Grayson and I ended up drinking too much, our faces flushed from the alcohol. His palms were sweaty, but he held me tightly, treating me like a priceless treasure.

“Did you wear it?” he asked softly.

At that crucial moment, I stopped him.

Grayson’s eyes softened with tenderness as he said, “Michelle, let’s have a child.”

...

Two months later, Sean returned, pretending to have just returned from his business trip.

Little did he know that Veronica had already been sending me messages, frequently updating me on their flirtatious and affectionate escapades. I had grown immune to their attempts, but Sean was still lost in his little world.

He tried to open the door with his suitcase, only to find the lock had been changed.

He frowned deeply. “Why would the lock be changed for no reason?”

Desperate, Sean knocked on the door.

When I opened it, he smiled gently. “Baby, I missed you so much…”

But just as he was about to hug me, his smile froze. He stared blankly at my pregnant belly, his eyes turning red instantly. “Michelle, you’re pregnant... whose is it?”

I casually caressed my belly and replied, “Well, it’s not yours.”

Sean froze, his face draining of all color, pale as a ghost. “No, no way. Tell me, what is going on here?”

In agitation, he rushed toward me, knocking over his suitcase, which clattered loudly to the floor.

“Michelle, you’re joking with me, right? Or are you preparing a surprise for me?” he demanded. But before he could finish, he quickly denied himself. “I... I haven’t touched you in two months. How could you be pregnant?”