When Amanda’s husband, Chris, interrupted a critical video call, she knew it was time to end things. But things only got worse when he showed up at an official meeting the next day and made a show in front of very important people.
Amanda stared at her laptop screen. She was finishing up with an important meeting with her supervisors at work. Her nerves grated along a knife’s edge, but not because of the video meeting. Her husband, Chris, was approaching the neat and cozy corner she used for working and taking on-camera calls.
“You’re amazing, Amanda,” Mr. Anders said.
For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
Amanda would’ve hoisted up her biggest and brightest smile, but Chris’s heavy footsteps were closer now; he was almost upon her. She froze. Like a squirrel cornered by a bear, there was nowhere for her to run and no place where she could hide.
Chris slammed his beer down on the writing pad she’d used to take notes, stepping right into her space and her laptop camera’s range. Amanda shrank away from him.
“What are you doing?” Chris asked. “Where’s my food?”
“I’m so sorry,” Amanda said to her supervisors before tilting her head to answer Chris. “I’m just finishing up my meeting, honey.”
She looked on in dismay as her supervisors, Claire and Mr. Anders, looked at each other in confusion. Amanda could still save this. Chris might go away if she could find just the right words or precisely the right way to look at him (once she gathered the courage to look at him at all.) Once he left, she could play the whole thing off as a mistake.
For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
“Honey, I’m hungry,” Chris said. “You don’t want to upset your hubby, do you?”
His tone of voice was soft, silky, and laden with threats Amanda knew full well he wouldn’t hesitate to follow through on. She looked up at him now—she couldn’t avoid it any longer—and bravely spoke to him as though he were a normal person, not a monster disguised as a human being.
“I just need a few more minutes, honey. Please?” Amanda pleaded. “I’m on a call with my supervisors. We should be finished soon.”
She turned back to face her laptop squarely, but Chris clearly wasn’t done.
“Supervisors?” He chuckled and reached around to grab her chair. “Come on, off you go,” Chris said, giving her chair a little shake. “You know what happens when you work too hard.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Youtube/DramatizeMe
Indeed, Amanda knew all too well what Chris would do to her for what he perceived as ‘working too hard.’ She smiled at her screen even as her mind filled with howling terror. Some part of herself that felt like it might be vital tore loose inside of her.
Amanda let Chris shoo her away from what might be the most vital meeting of her career because she ultimately had no choice. She never had a choice. A familiar darkness closed in around her as she walked to the kitchen.
“And get everything on the table in fifteen minutes,” Chris called after her.
“Of course, honey,” Amanda chirped as her auto-pilot persona took over.
“I will talk to your supervisors myself,” Chris said.
Mr. Anders, one of Amanda’s supervisors, spoke to him. “Chris, Amanda is indispensable for the meeting tomorrow. Her presence is crucial for our success, do you understand?” he stated firmly.
For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
Chris’s demeanor faltered slightly. “Oh, yeah, yeah, sure thing,” he dismissed.
As Amanda left to attend to Chris’s demands for food, Chris remained on the call, his disruptive behavior leaving an indelible mark of chaos that tainted the professionalism of the meeting.
***
Amanda found herself in the sanctuary of her kitchen a few hours later, the remnants of dinner scattered across the countertops. The clinking of dishes filled the air as she diligently washed and dried them, methodically moving through the routine chores.
How did it come to this? Amanda’s mind raced as she scrubbed a stubborn stain off a plate. My career hanging by a thread because of my husband.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Youtube/DramatizeMe
The clatter of plates faded into the background as Amanda’s thoughts tugged at her. I’ve worked so hard for this and sacrificed so much…
She dried a glass, the transparency reflecting the chaos she couldn’t quite see through. Where do I draw the line? Why am I still with him?
The dishes gleamed at last. Yet, Amanda’s inner conflict lingered, simmering beneath the surface, unresolved and weighing heavily on her conscience.
***
The following day, Mr. Anders attempted to maintain decorum, apologizing to the investors immediately. “Apologies for the delay. Amanda will be here shortly. Thank you for being so patient.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Youtube/DramatizeMe
Mr. Whitney, a composed figure among the investors, nodded understandingly. “We’ll wait. We’re eager to hear from Amanda,” he reassured, his gaze flickering toward the entrance.
Finally, Amanda rushed in, her chest moving rapidly. Determination glinted in her eyes, though the darkness below her eyes showed her fatigue. “Thank you for waiting. I’m so sorry,” she managed, still breathless.
Chris barged into the room before she could collect her thoughts.”What’s the fuss about? Mind if I join?” he interjected, a smirk playing on his lips as he glanced around.
He strolled over to Mr. Whitney, fixating on the watch adorning his wrist. “Fancy watch. How much did you spend on that?” Chris prodded, ignoring or unaware of the shocked and confused faces around him.
For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
The investors exchanged bemused glances as Chris continued, his demeanor unapologetic. “Money talks, right? Let’s get to it,” he declared.
Amanda tried to rein him in. “Chris, not now, please,” she implored, sweat beading on her forehead.
Mr. Anders beckoned Claire urgently, guiding her to the corridor outside the meeting room where Chris lingered, an unsettling air of disruption trailing him. “We need to contain this,” he whispered urgently before calling out Amanda’s husband. “Chris, how about a tour of our facilities? We’ll show you around while Amanda continues the meeting.”
Chris’s expression shifted, a smug grin playing on his lips. “Sure thing, boss. Lead the way!” he mocked, his eyes darting mischievously.
Mr. Anders led Chris along the corridor. “Claire here will assist you,” he explained, turning to Claire with a forced smile.
For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
Claire nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Of course, Chris. Let’s start with the main office area,” she suggested, pretending this was perfectly normal. Mr. Anders returned to the meeting, and Chris’s expression shifted from sarcastic and smiley to something else.
Claire noticed the change quickly but had to pretend. The investor meeting was crucial. “Show me around, girl,” Chris demanded, his voice like a sharp knife. “Huh-huh, do what your boss said. You know what to do if you want things to run smoothly, sweetheart.”
***
Amanda battled to maintain her professional facade despite the sweat beading her entire body and the heavy weight of her eyes. She glanced at the investors, trying to forge ahead with the presentation. “Apologies for the interruption,” she began and tried to direct everyone’s attention to the projection on the wall.
But as Amanda lifted her hand to point at something, her body gave up. She staggered slightly, her vision blurring. The room spun around her, a nauseating dizziness enveloping her senses as she finally fell onto the meeting room carpet.
For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
“Give her some water,” Mr. Whitney commanded, concerned. The investors exchanged concerned glances, their murmurs of worry filling the air.
Mr. Anders’s composure snapped. “This is unacceptable!” he barked, his frustration palpable as he blamed Amanda, his voice resonating with visible anger. “Get up, Amanda! We need to proceed!”
“She needs help,” Mr. Whitney insisted, frowning at Mr. Anders. Mr. Morgan helped Amanda get up and seated on the table, but before they could move on, the familiar dial tone of a video call interrupted everyone.
It came from Mr. Anders’s private office computer. He hesitated but answered the call. “What’s happening there?” he asked, his anger momentarily diverted, replaced by shock.
The screen flickered to life, revealing Chris’s overbearing presence in Mr. Anders’ office, standing imposingly close to Claire, who was cowering on a couch, trying to dislodge the heavy man’s hands from her face.
For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
The investors’ faces twisted in outrage, and all stood, calling for security and Mr. Anders to do something. But it was Amanda who acted first despite her earlier collapse. “I need to stop this,” she declared, raising her chin.
This has gone too far, Amanda thought, her heart racing with concern for Claire’s safety. The investors followed behind her.
“Wait, what’s going on?” Mr. Anders asked, his voice far behind everyone else. “We need to get back to the meeting!”
“Chris, leave her alone!” Amanda’s sharp command cut through the tension as she entered Mr. Anders’s office. Mr. Whitney and Mr. Morgan hurried after her.
Chris stood there, hands at his side, now subdued in the face of his audience. “I didn’t do anything!”
“You’ve gone too far this time!” Amanda’s voice echoed through the office, her eyes blazed daggers at her husband.
Mr. Whitney and Mr. Morgan swiftly intervened, taking control of the situation, their focus restraining Chris until security arrived. Chris was escorted out, but his voice boomed through the corridor. “I didn’t do anything wrong! You all know they want me! Especially her!” He pointed a shaky finger at Amanda, a manic smirk contorting his features.
For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
“Enough, Chris!” Amanda’s voice cut through the air, firm and unwavering. “You’ve done enough. It’s over.”
Once her husband was finally out of earshot, Amanda noticed Mr. Anders’ angry face. Smoke was almost coming out of his ears. “This is an outrage! You two have ruined everything! You—” His tirade was abruptly interrupted as Mr. Whitney and Mr. Morgan intervened.
“Mr. Anders, enough!” Mr. Whitney’s barked, one hand raised to stop him. “Your lack of leadership exacerbated this situation.”
“Exactly,” Mr. Morgan chimed in, his eyes unwavering. “Amanda and Claire did everything to salvage the meeting despite the chaos caused by your neglect. This is on you, not them.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube/DramatizeMe
Mr. Anders, seething with indignation, glared at the investors. “How dare you interfere in my business!”
Mr. Whitney shook his head, unfazed. “This isn’t how you treat your employees. We value their dedication and professionalism, something you’ve failed to recognize.”
“Furthermore,” Mr. Morgan added sternly, “they’re too good to work for you. We’re offering Amanda and Claire positions at our investment fund. They deserve better.”
Mr. Anders, his face flushed with anger, stormed out of the office. In the wake of his departure, the investors turned their attention to Amanda and Claire, commending them for their resilience and offering them opportunities in a more supportive and appreciative work environment.
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My Husband Brought Home a Pregnant Lover and Told Me to Move to My Mom’s – My Revenge Was Harsh
Eight years of marriage shattered in one quick breath when my husband Mike brought home his pregnant sidekick and KICKED ME OUT of the house. I packed alright, but what I unpacked was a revenge plot so brilliant and karmic!
Portrait of a sad young woman | Source: Midjourney
It was a Tuesday evening when my life decided to go off the rails. I walked into our living room, tired from a long day at work, only to find a heavily pregnant woman sitting on our couch, eating chips.
At first, I thought maybe I’d accidentally wandered into the wrong house.
But no, there was our ugly floral wallpaper that Mike insisted on keeping, and there was Mike, looking like he’d just swallowed a porcupine.
A pregnant woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, Michelle,” he said, his voice as casual as if he was asking me to pass the salt. “We need to talk.”
I stood there, frozen, my brain trying to compute the scene before me. The pregnant woman smiled awkwardly, her hand on her belly, looking like she was auditioning for a soap opera.
“This is Jessica,” Mike continued, gesturing to the human incubator on our couch. “She’s pregnant. With my child. It… it just happened. And we’ve decided to be together.”
A woman gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney
I waited for the punchline. Surely, this was some elaborate prank for a new reality TV show. Maybe I’d win a car if I didn’t freak out?
But Mike’s face remained serious, and Jessica kept smiling that infuriating smile.
“Mike,” I said slowly, “what do you mean by ‘it just happened’? Did you trip and fall into her—?”
Mike had the audacity to look offended. “Enough, Michelle! This is serious. I think it’s best if you move out. You can go stay with your mom. Jess and I’ll take over the house.”
A serious-looking man sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Nope, still not a dream.
I was half-expecting Ashton Kutcher to jump out and tell me I’d been Punk’d. But alas, no Ashton. Just my cheating husband and his very pregnant sidekick.
“Alright,” I calmly said. “I’ll pack my things and leave.”
Mike looked relieved, probably thinking he’d gotten off easy. Jessica’s smile grew wider, like she’d just won the lottery. Little did they know, the lottery was about to hit them back, and hit them hard.
A heartbroken woman at the doorway | Source: Midjourney
I went upstairs, packed a suitcase with some essentials, and left without another word.
As I drove to my mom’s house, the shock wore off, and rage took its place. But this wasn’t just any rage. This was the kind of rage that makes you want to do something spectacularly stupid and incredibly satisfying.
The next day, I set my plan in motion.
First stop: the bank. I marched in there like a woman on a mission, which I was. I froze our joint account faster than you can say “cheating jerk.”
The look on the bank manager’s face when I explained why was priceless. I’m pretty sure he was mentally taking notes for his next novel.
A woman outside a bank | Source: Midjourney
Next, I visited a locksmith.
I remembered overhearing Mike tell Jessica they’d be gone for three days, giving me plenty of time to execute my master plan. It was like the universe was conspiring in my favor, and who was I to argue with destiny?
My next stop: my house. The same cozy house Mike and I once lived together, planning a future that was now a total trainwreck.
The puzzled locksmith probably thought I was crazy, cackling as I had him change all the locks on the house. I may have gone a bit overboard and asked for the most complicated, high-tech locks available. Hey, if I was going to do this, I was going to do it right. And big.
A locksmith fixing a door lock | Source: Midjourney
Then came the movers.
I gave them the spare keys and scheduled them to pack up everything I owned, which was basically everything in the house. I even took the toilet paper. Let’s see how Mike and Jessica enjoy using leaves!
But the piece de resistance? Oh, that was yet to come. I had a brilliant idea that would make this revenge not just sweet, but long-lasting.
Toilet paper rolls in a basket | Source: Midjourney
I sent out party invitations. Lots of them. To Mike’s family, our friends, his coworkers, even that nosy neighbor who always complained about our late dog.
The invitation read: “Come celebrate Mike’s new life! Surprise party at our house, tomorrow at 7 p.m.!”
A party invitation | Source: Midjourney
Then, I commissioned a billboard. Yes, a billboard. A huge one. It was delivered and set up on our front lawn, impossible to miss.
In giant, bold letters, it proclaimed: “Congratulations on Dumping Me for Your Pregnant Mistress, Mike! Hope the Baby Doesn’t Inherit Your Infidelity!”
I stepped back to admire my handiwork, feeling like a mischievous fairy godmother who’d just granted the world’s most ironic wish. With a satisfied smirk and a dramatic hair flip, I sashayed away from the scene, eagerly anticipating the chaos that was about to unfold.
A billboard outside a house | Source: Midjourney
The next evening, right on cue, my phone rang. It was Mike, and he sounded like he was having an aneurysm.
“Michelle!” he screeched, his voice hitting octaves I didn’t know he could reach. “What the hell is going on? Why are there people at our house? And what’s with this insane billboard?”
“Oh, that?” I said, trying to sound innocent. “Just a little housewarming party for you and Jessica. Don’t you like the decorations?”
“Decorations? It’s a freaking circus out here! And why can’t I get into the house?”
A startled man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t help but giggle. “Well, honey, you told me to move out, remember? You never said anything about you staying there. I just remembered that the house is solely under my name. So, I changed the locks. Oopsie!”
There was a long silence on the other end. I could almost hear the gears in his tiny brain trying to process what was happening.
“Where are we supposed to go?” he finally sputtered.
“Gee, I don’t know, Mike. Maybe Jessica’s mom would love to have you? I hear pregnancy hormones and in-laws mix really well.”
A smiling woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I hung up, feeling lighter than I had in years. But wait, there was more!
In the days that followed, I had the utilities cut off, canceled the cable, and made sure all our joint assets were transferred into my name. I listed the house for sale, making sure to mention in the listing that it came with a “bonus front lawn art installation.”
I had Mike served with divorce papers at work. I specifically requested the mailman to dress up as a pregnant woman. Just for funsies.
But the universe wasn’t done with Mike yet. Oh no, it had saved the best for last.
A man gaping in shock as he holds some papers | Source: Midjourney
A week later, I got a call from Jessica. Yes, that Jessica. She was crying so hard I could barely understand her.
“Michelle,” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know… I mean, Mike told me you two were separated. And now… now he’s broke and homeless, and I’m pregnant, and I don’t know what to do!”
I almost felt bad for her. Almost.
“Well, Jessica,” I said, trying to keep the glee out of my voice, “I hear the circus is always looking for new acts. Maybe you two could start a juggling duo? You juggle the baby, he juggles his lies?”
She didn’t appreciate my humor. Tsk! Tsk!
Silhouette of a pregnant woman holding a smartphone | Source: Midjourney
As it turns out, when Jessica found out that Mike was now homeless, broke, and the laughingstock of the town, she decided that maybe being with a guy who had no money, no house, and no future wasn’t such a great idea after all.
She dumped him faster than you can say “Karma’s a b****!”
Last I heard, Mike was living in a tiny apartment, trying to scrape together enough money to pay bills and feed his hungry belly. His family had cut him off, disgusted by his behavior.
They even sent me a fruit basket and a sorry card. I ate the fruits while soaking in my new jacuzzi.
As for me? Well, the house sold for a nice profit. I moved to a beautiful new place, started my own business, and adopted a cat. I named him Karma.
A woman with her pet cat | Source: Midjourney
So yeah, my revenge might have been a bit over the top. But let’s be real, bringing home a pregnant mistress and trying to kick me out of my own house? That’s not just crossing a line, that’s pole-vaulting over it and then setting the pole on fire.
In the end, I learned a valuable lesson: When life gives you lemons, don’t just make lemonade. Squeeze those lemons into the eyes of those who wronged you, and then sit back and watch them stumble around blindly. It’s much more satisfying.
And remember, folks: cheaters never prosper, but the cheated-on with a good sense of humor and a flair for the dramatic? Oh, we do just fine!
A cheerful woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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