Allison pulled me away from the grill and asked me to help her carry some things from her car. She kept glancing around, checking if anyone was nearby. Then she said she had something important to tell me about my wife, Lydia. I told her to just say it.
After a lot of hesitation, she told me that she knew firsthand that Lydia had been unfaithful. I went defensive immediately and demanded proof. She had none, but she insisted it was true. She told me to check Lydia’s phone.
According to Allison, months ago, at a birthday dinner with friends, they stopped at a bar. A guy bought Lydia a drink, she entertained him, they exchanged numbers. Before they left, they shared a long kiss. When Allison scolded her the next day, Lydia dismissed it as just alcohol, saying it didn’t count as cheating.
But it wasn’t just one incident. Lydia later mentioned she’d met up with the guy again. Twice. When Allison asked if she’d slept with him, Lydia just made a silly, guilty face.
Allison took that as a yes. I asked Allison why she was only telling me now. She said she’d wanted to stay out of it, but my happiness at the barbecue made her feel guilty. I understood, but all that information sat heavy on me.
For the rest of the day, I couldn’t fake a good mood. Lydia noticed. I made up lies to get her off my back. When I finally got the chance, I went through her emails first.
Nothing. Then I went through her phone. It took a long time, but I found it. Messages with a guy named Robert, starting exactly six months ago.
They were flirting, sexting, arranging to meet. I screenshotted everything I could, terrified she’d wake up. She didn’t. I sat in bed looking at her, wondering where it all went wrong.
I did so much for her. I paid for her schooling. I sold my car when her medical bills got too heavy after an accident. I supported every one of her endeavors.
When she came home late from class, I had food waiting. She was forgetful, so I reminded her of appointments and chores, even things she had cooking. On her stressful days, I gave her massages, bubble baths, her favorite food. And she still chose someone else.
I couldn’t turn a blind eye, and I couldn’t stay. I knew the only real option was to end it. After the divorce papers were processed, I had her served, then I confronted her. She was caught off guard.
She asked why, and when I mentioned Robert, she played dumb. I told her to think hard about how I could know. She tried to act oblivious, but I admitted I had seen their texts. It was on her phone.
It wasn’t some enemy framing her. She was distraught at first, but when I kept pushing, she got uncomfortable. Then she changed tactics. She blamed me.
Why did I check her phone? Why didn’t I talk to her first? Was I sure I understood what I read? Did I know she had been feeling lonely?
Question after question, all making herself the victim. I let her talk. There was no point arguing. When she was done, I told her to sign the papers when she was ready.
She said, “So you’re just going to believe that I did that to you? ” I told her yes. I had more than enough evidence. I didn’t mention Allison.
I didn’t want Lydia narrowing things down. She kept insisting I had misunderstood, that I didn’t know what I saw. She didn’t know I had the screenshots saved on my phone. I waited for her to try to gaslight me so I could prove her wrong to her face.
I left the house. I packed everything out because I couldn’t bear to stay there. Yes, I willingly let the house go. I knew it was a bad move legally, but I preferred it.
I didn’t want to be surrounded by the memories. Starting fresh felt better. The divorce went through. She got the house.
I expected that. I knew she’d struggle to fund it on her own, even with alimony. But that wasn’t my business anymore. I walked out of the courthouse feeling indifferent.
I thought she’d finally be out of my life. I thought that was the end. Until the house burned down. I got a call and genuinely thought it was a prank.
The divorce was barely done, the house had been hers for less than a quarter. But it was true. It burned to the ground. I went and checked myself.
It was entirely her fault. She tried to claim I had done it out of vindictiveness, but I had a rock-solid alibi. I was far away. I wasn’t involved at all.
What happened? She lit candles and forgot them. She used to do that all the time. I would always go to bed after her and turn them off.
Now she lived alone. No one was there to put them out. A candle was left on, and the whole house went down. It’s the cruelest karma, but I’m not complaining.
Here’s the kicker. She didn’t renew the insurance policy on the house. During our marriage, I handled all the bills and expenses. I had told her about the insurance during the handover because the policy was days from expiring.
She let the grace period lapse. The bank called her. But before the bank could force place insurance, she burned the house down. Uninsured.
She is genuinely convinced I had something to do with it. She ambushed me after work, frenzied, demanding I confess to arson. But the firefighters had already determined it was a candle. The insurance company and the bank both knew she hadn’t paid.
Neither did she want to admit any of it. Now she’s telling me the debt is partly mine. She has to pay the mortgage on a house that no longer exists and she tried to rope me into it. I pointed out that my only contribution was the alimony, and the moment it ended, that was all she was getting.
She’s going to have massive debt attached to her for the rest of her life. She knows, even if she won’t admit it, that I saved her from burning the house down so many other times. She knows that if I had been there, this wouldn’t have happened. And she knows the only reason I wasn’t there is because she cheated.
Her sister called me, trying to appeal to me to help with the house debt. I asked if she knew why we broke up. She didn’t. I told her to ask, then hung up.
I did what I could as a husband. I got rewarded with a cheating wife. Now we’re apart, and she’s dealing with the direct consequences of her actions. She can sleep with as many men as she wants now.
She’ll just have to go to their houses, since she doesn’t have a place to bring them back to.
