When My Husband's Affair Killed Our Son, I Took Revenge

At six in the morning, Jack Thompson came home after working overtime. He looked drained, but still managed to bring me a bouquet of flowers. Gently, he set the roses by my pillow. As usual, he leaned in to kiss my forehead.

But this time, I quietly pushed him away and asked for a divorce. Jack stared at me, shocked.

“Why? Just because I worked overtime too late?”

I shook my head. “Because at five in the morning, you sent me a message.”

——

The message was simple, just one line. [Wife, I love you.]

It was sent at 5:07 a.m.

The location showed: his company.

For a moment, my heart fluttered. I almost replied, but then a thought I’d read online popped into my mind.

[When someone leaves a cat café, they bring home a can of cat food—out of guilt.]

[A cheating man is the same. After an affair, he’ll send his wife an ‘I love you’ out of guilt.]

I had always believed Jack would never cheat.

He loved me so much that whenever I got hurt, he’d shield me with his own body.

He was always busy with work, so busy he barely had time to eat or drink. Someone like that couldn’t possibly cheat. He didn’t even have the time.

That’s what I kept telling myself.

But still, my hands moved on their own.

I started checking Jack’s social media on his WhatsApp, Discord, Amazon and Slack. Everything seemed normal.

Until six in the morning, I noticed a new girl on his follow list.

An intern who had just joined his company was Audrey Quinn.

Jack had mentioned her before. He said she was dumb, clumsy and couldn’t do anything right.

At five in the morning, this so-called “dumb beauty” posted an update. [The most romantic thing in the world is watching the sunrise with the one you love after intense exercise.]

The morning light lit up her young, radiant face. Around her slender waist rested a long, bony hand.

If that hand hadn’t been wearing the same wedding ring Jack and I shared, I might’ve even sighed and thought youth was beautiful.

But at that moment, I already knew the truth.

But eight years of love made me choose self-deception.

I wasn’t ready to let go. So, I kept digging, holding onto the hope that maybe this was all a misunderstanding.

A woman in love would become a natural Sherlock Holmes.

Through Jack’s bank records, WhatsApp step count and fuel logs, I pieced together the timeline of his night.

At 7 p.m., Jack told me he had to work late and left to meet a client.

By 8 p.m., the deal had reportedly fallen through and he returned to the office to revise the proposal.

At 3 a.m., Jack took Audrey to a five-star hotel near the company.

By 5 a.m., their passion ended.

Audrey, satisfied, looked at the sunrise and sighed.

Out of guilt, Jack sent me that message.

Just like the line I’d read online.

The person who had returned from the cat café, feeling guilty, had opened a can for the cat at home.

The man who had just fooled around, out of guilt, had sent his wife an “I love you.”

That bouquet of flowers was the cat food Jack brought home for me.

When I uncovered all of this, I felt shattered.

I was in pain, furious and broken.

For a moment, I even considered pretending I hadn’t seen anything, to quietly continue life with Jack.

After all, we’d spent eight years together and we had two beautiful children.

But the moment Jack stepped through the door, I caught the scent of sickly sweet perfume on him.