'That's Low, Even For You!' Wife Screamed After I Served Divorce Papers At Her Lover's Bed

'That's Low, Even For You!' Wife Screamed After I Served Divorce Papers At Her Lover's Bed

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:02):
Hello, thank you for being here. Welcome to cheating all
the time. I am lady truth. Let's get into another
crazy cheat. Betrayal has a smell, cheap cologne and deceit.
It lingered on her scarf that night, the same one
she swore she left at work. The glow of her
phone screen at two a m. Was brighter than any

(00:24):
truth she'd ever told me. They thought I wouldn't notice
the stolen glances, the late meetings, the lies that rolled
off her tongue like rehearsed lines.

Speaker 2 (00:33):
But I did.

Speaker 1 (00:34):
When I finally saw them in the dim parking garage,
their laughter echoing like a slap to my face, something snapped.
This is about revenge, cold, calculated and merciless story, and
I made sure they felt every ounce of it before
we begin. Let me know where you're tuning in from
down in the comments, and if you enjoy this story,

(00:56):
don't forget to subscribe and turn on notifications so you
never miss our next tale. I remember the moment I
realized something was off. It was a Wednesday evening, a
long day at the office, and all I wanted was
to come home, drop my briefcase and ask Lauren how
her day went. Usually she got home after I did.

(01:16):
We had a standard routine. I'd unlock the front door
around six, toss my keys on the kitchen counter, and
she'd show up maybe an hour later, looking exhausted but smiling.
That night, though she was already there. As soon as
I walked inside, I felt this thick tension hanging in
the air. The living room lights were dimmed, and Lauren

(01:37):
was perched on the couch in a strange way, like
she'd been waiting. Not the excited I have good news
kind of waiting, but the kind that hits you in
the gut and tells you nothing good is going to
come from it. Hey, I said, pausing by the door,
longer than I meant to. Hey, she replied, voice subdued.
She fiddled with the edge of a magazine that lay

(02:00):
open on the coffee table. It was some glossy piece
about interior design, but she never even looked down at
the pages. I set my briefcase by the coat rack.
You're home early, I said, forcing a casual tone. Everything okay,
She shrugged, then stood. Just didn't have much to do

(02:20):
at work, she said. But that statement seemed a little
too quick, almost rehearsed figured I'd call it a day
grab take out for dinner if you're hungry. I nodded,
feeling the swirl of relief and worry all at once.
We rarely had dinner together during the work week, so
part of me was glad for chance to sit down

(02:40):
and share a meal. But I couldn't shake the uneasy vibe.
Something about her eyes struck me. Laurens always had these
warm brown eyes that crinkled at the corners when she smiled.
That night, they were darker, guarded. Somehow, it felt like
she was watching me from a distance, even though she
was just a few feet away. I followed her into

(03:01):
the kitchen, trying not to overthink. The counters were spotless,
everything put away, no clutter. Lauren's usually not a neat freak.
She doesn't leave the house messy, but she's also not
the type to scrub down the counters on.

Speaker 2 (03:16):
A random weak night.

Speaker 1 (03:17):
Yet here we were, the entire kitchen shining as if
scoured with bleach. A random detail, but it made the
hair on my arm stand up.

Speaker 2 (03:26):
She had a.

Speaker 1 (03:27):
Paper bag from a Chinese place we both liked. She
handed me a carton of fried rice and some lemon.
I got you general So's chicken too, she said, taking
a seat at the table. Thought you might want that, thanks,
I said, slipping into the chair across from her. I
tried not to stare, but I couldn't help noticing how

(03:49):
jumpy she looked. She kept flexing her fingers around her chopsticks,
tapping them lightly against the table. The small talk we
attempted was painful. We chatted about the office, about my coworker, Jake,
who'd gotten a promotion. She said something about reorganizing the
stuff in the garage next weekend, and I responded in
half sentences, all the while scanning her face, trying to

(04:12):
read what was really happening. Everything about the night felt
like a performance, and I didn't know which role I
was supposed to play. Something on your mind, I finally asked.
After an agonizing silence. Lauren looked up sharply. Lips parted,
and for a second I expected her to say something big,
a confession, an apology maybe. Instead she shook her head

(04:35):
and gave a soft laugh that didn't match the tension
in her eyes. No, I'm just tired. A hollow ache
spread through my chest. I'd known Lauren for years, married
her because I believed in the comfort we found in
each other. Yet I couldn't remember the last time we
felt truly connected. That sense of closeness had begun to

(04:56):
slip recently, like we were drifting in separate directions, without
ea either of us admitting it. She cleared our plates
once we were done, and began rinsing them in the sink.
I walked over and stood behind her. Gently placed a
hand on her shoulder. She stiffened at my touch, so
I withdrew my hand, trying not to look hurt you.

(05:16):
Sure you're okay? I pressed, Hating how and secure I sounded.
She nodded, vigorously, shutting off the faucet. I'm just beat ethan,
She dried her hands. I might go lie down read
for a while. Sorry if I'm not great company tonight,
I forced a smile, wondering why I felt like a

(05:36):
stranger in my own home. No worries, I said. She
started to leave the kitchen, pausing in the doorway. You
can watch TV or something, she suggested. I won't bother you.
My heart sank at the word bother. Since when did
she think her presence was a bother? But before I
could say anything else, she was gone. I heard our

(05:58):
bedroom door closed down the hall. I flicked off the
kitchen light, settling on the couch in the living room,
I found a basketball game on TV, but barely paid attention. Instead,
I replayed the day's events, trying to pinpoint the moment
things had changed for us. This hush in the house
it felt ominous, like we were bracing for a storm. Eventually,

(06:21):
I turned off the TV, noticing the time. It was
only nine hundred thirty, but Lauren had shut herself in
the bedroom for nearly an hour. I considered going to her,
but the quiet tension between us kept me glued.

Speaker 2 (06:34):
To the couch.

Speaker 1 (06:35):
In some ways, I was afraid to face her again,
afraid of discovering that something was irreparably damaged. Later that night,
as I finally mustered the courage to head to the bedroom,
I found her asleep, or at least pretending to be.
The lamp on her side was off, though she normally
read for at least half an hour before bed, another

(06:55):
tiny detail that made my stomach nod. She changed her
nightly routine without telling me anything. I undressed in silence
and slept under the covers, leaving a careful half foot
of space between us. I waited for her to stir,
maybe roll over and whisper a good night, but she
didn't move.

Speaker 2 (07:13):
I stared at.

Speaker 1 (07:14):
The ceiling, listening to the faint hum of our air conditioner,
feeling the chill in the air that had nothing to
do with the temperature. Two hours later, sleep still hadn't come.
I tried to ignore the rattled thoughts buzzing in my head.
Where had we gone wrong? Was I just imagining all
of this? Was she just stressed about work? In the

(07:35):
pitch darkness, I couldn't escape my suspicions that something bigger
was happening under the surface. Part of me wanted to
confront her in that moment, flick on the lamp and
force a conversation, but I stayed silent, a strange dread
holding me back. Sometimes the truth is more terrifying than
the lies we let ourselves believe. Eventually, sometime past midnight,

(07:58):
exhaustion one my eyelids strung, and I let myself drift off,
hoping that this weird tension would vanish by morning. But
deep down I knew we'd already hit a turning point
and it wasn't going to be that easy to pretend
everything was fine. I heard Laurence shift in her sleep,
and for a second I almost wrapped an arm around her,

(08:18):
craving the warmth we used to share. But something warned
me to keep my distance, so I stayed on my
side of the bed, feeling oddly like a visitor in
the one place that should have made me feel safe.
The next morning brought more distance. Laurence slipped out of
bed before my alarm even buzzed. By the time I
got up, she was already in the kitchen with a

(08:40):
cup of coffee, scrolling through her phone. Her hair was
tied back in a messy bun, and she had on
the same pink rope she'd owned for years. But something
about the way she held herself shoulders tents told me
she wasn't relaxed at all. Morning, I said, trying to
sound casual. Morning, she he mumbled, not glancing up from

(09:02):
her phone. I noticed her thumb flicking the screen, but
her eyes weren't moving. It was like she was just
pretending to be busy. You sleep, oquet, I ventured, fine,
you ye, I lied. I was wiped out. I busied
myself making toast and checking emails. On my phone, waiting
for some sign that her mood had improved from the

(09:23):
night before, but the silence lingered. I decided not to
force the issue. Maybe she'd talk once she'd woken up
a bit more. We had an unspoken agreement for years,
first one up would at least offer to make coffee
for the other. She hadn't this time, which stung a little,
so I poured my own cup, leaning against the counter

(09:44):
across from her. Any big plans today, I asked. She
finally put her phone down. Just the usual, she replied softly.
Then she glanced at the clock on the microwave. I
should get going. I've got an early meeting. That was
weird because Lauren normally liked to take her time in
the morning. She rarely, if ever, rushed out unless it

(10:07):
was something urgent. But she was already sliding off the stool,
downing the last of her coffee before I could ask
what the meeting was about. She gave me a quick
nod and left the room. I heard the front door
shut moments later. I stood there, letting the coffee grow
cold in my mug, mine swimming with unspoken questions. Was

(10:29):
I just paranoid? She'd never been so short with me,
so uninterested in our usual morning banter. At work, I
tried to concentrate on my tasks, but my mind kept
drifting to Lauren by lunchei'me I'd scrolled through old photos
of us on my phone, vacation shots, date nights, silly
selfies from random afternoons. We'd been so inseparable, once, so comfortable.

(10:53):
Now it felt like there was a steel wall between us,
and I had no idea how it got there. A
Jake noticed my distraction. Yo, Ethan, he said, poking his
head into my cubicle. You okay, man, you look stressed.
I shrugged, Just a rough night. My wife and I

(11:13):
were a little off lately. Jake gave me a sympathetic look. Hey,
if you need anything, let me know. Maybe we can
grab beers after work talk it out. Thanks, I said,
might take you up on that, but I didn't meet
him for beers. I went straight home, anxious to see
if Loren would already be there again. When I arrived,

(11:35):
the house was silent and dark except for a single
lamp in the living room. A note lay on the
kitchen counter in Lauren's neat handwriting, Ethan, I stayed with
a friend after work. Just need some space to think.
Don't worry, I'll text you, Lauren. My heart hammered, need
some space. The words stung more than I care to admit.

(11:58):
I tossed my keys down and tried to process what
she meant. Sure couples argue people sometimes need a moment
to clear their heads, but this felt final, somehow, like
a warning shot. I ended up microwaving leftovers for dinner alone,
with the TV playing in the background, a static company.
I kept checking my phone, expecting to see a message

(12:21):
from her.

Speaker 2 (12:22):
None came.

Speaker 1 (12:23):
Eventually, I just forced myself to go to bed, though
it felt early like the start of a life without her.
She didn't come home until the next morning, around eight
hundred thirty. I was about to leave for work when
she walked in, wearing the same clothes from the day before.
She looked exhausted but oddly resolved. Lauren, what's going on?

(12:44):
I demanded, unable to hide the hurt and confusion in
my voice. She said, her purse on the counter, sighing,
we need to talk Ethan. My stomach flip flopped. Talk
about what you spent the night somewhere else and didn't
even text me, are you okay? She gave a tight nod.
I'm okay, but I I think we need a break,

(13:08):
a REvil break. I stared at her, heart pounding.

Speaker 2 (13:12):
What do you mean?

Speaker 1 (13:13):
I mean, I'm moving out at least for a while,
She clarified, crossing her arms. I can't do this anymore.
We're not working and I don't know why. I just
I need space for a second. It felt like the
walls we're closing in. You're leaving because you're off lately,
she exhaled slowly. Ethan, it's been more than lately. We've

(13:35):
barely talked for months. Even before that, I felt like
something between us just died. I don't want to keep
forcing it and pretending we're okay when we're not. I
tried to protest, to tell her we could fix whatever
was broken, but her expression shut me down. There was
a hardness around her eyes, like she'd rehearsed this moment

(13:56):
and already made up her mind. So that's it, I asked,
my voice cracking. You're just gone, she shrugged. I'm sorry.
I've thought about this for a long time. I have
a few things packed in the car. I'm staying with
a friend.

Speaker 2 (14:12):
For now.

Speaker 1 (14:13):
I wanted to ask which friend, but something about the
way she said it told me I might not get
the truth. The betrayal that I couldn't name yet coiled
in my gut, but I swallowed it. I still have
believed it was just a temporary crisis, that she'd come
to her senses and come home. When are you leaving,
I asked quietly. Now she said simply, I'm taking a

(14:36):
personal day from work to get settled.

Speaker 2 (14:38):
I'll call you once I'm settled.

Speaker 1 (14:40):
I nodded, numbness spreading through my limbs. This woman I
shared a home with for years was walking out, and
I had no clue if she'd ever truly come back.
Part of me felt like I should beg her to stay,
but my pride kept my mouth shut. Maybe she just
needed to clear her head. Maybe we talk in a
few days and work things out. Lauren's phone buzzed in

(15:04):
her pocket, and she checked it quickly, face impassive. I
have to go, She avoided my gaze, heading.

Speaker 2 (15:11):
For the door.

Speaker 1 (15:12):
I followed her to the driveway, feeling my chest tighten
at the sight of her small suit tasse in the
back seat. She opened the driver's door, paused and looked
at me. We held eye contact for a split second,
and I almost reached for her, but she turned away.
She started the engine, backed down the driveway, and turned
onto the street. The break lights glowed red for a

(15:33):
moment at the corner. Stopped sighing, and then she drove off.

Speaker 2 (15:37):
Just like that.

Speaker 1 (15:39):
Ten years of our life together disappeared from my view.
I stood there for a good two minutes after Lauren's
car vanished, staring at the empty street. Our neighborhood was
quiet at that hour. Most folks were at work, kids
at school. It felt like I was the only person
left on earth. I should have been more upset, I

(15:59):
told my but all I could muster was a strange
hollowness in my chest. I went inside and dropped onto
the couch. The house felt unnaturally silent without Lauren's presence.
Even her basic everyday routine setting her coffee mug down
on the counter, humming absent mindedly while she showered, were gone.
I flicked on the TV just to fill the emptiness

(16:22):
with some noise, but I wasn't really listening For a while,
I just sat there, letting numbness settle in. Shouldn't I
be panicking, calling her, begging her to come back, or
at least to explain better. I reached for my phone,
stared at her name and my contacts, thumb hovering over
the call button, but something stopped me. Her decision had

(16:44):
been so final. What could I say to change her mind?
Eventually I remembered I still had to go to work.
With a sigh, I forced myself off the couch, changed
into a clean shirt, and grabbed my brief gaze. On
the drive over the city streets looked oddly cheerful, people
bustling about the morning, sun hitting storefronts. Life went on

(17:06):
for everybody else, while my entire marriage seemed to be crumbling.
At the office, I did my best to focus on
reports and emails, but my mind was half lost in
replaying Lauren's words, I'm moving out. I don't want to
keep pretending we're okay. A dreadful idea trickled in the
back of my head. What if she was leaving for

(17:26):
reasons that had nothing to do with space? What if
there was someone else? I pushed the thought away. Lauren
had never given me a reason to doubt her faithfulness,
but our lack of closeness in recent months could mean anything.
I started running through little signs I might have missed
time she stayed out late with friends from work, or

(17:46):
how protective she'd become of her phone. I felt paranoid,
but also unsettled. You don't just walk out on your
marriage without something bigger fueling it. Right that afternoon, Dylan Green,
my best friends in life college, texted me, Hey, man,
heard something's up with you and Lauren. Everything okay, word
travels fast. Apparently Dylan's wife, Sabrina, was a good friend

(18:11):
of Lauren's. Maybe Lauren had said something. I stared at
the text, then typed back, not really. She left this morning.
I'm not sure what to think. Dylan responded within seconds.
I'm sorry. Let's talk tonight if you're free. I agreed,
grateful for the lifeline. After work, I drove to a

(18:32):
nearby sports bar where Dylan was waiting. The place had
a cozy vibe, dim lighting old Neon signs advertising beer,
and a row of TVs overhead showing baseball highlights. Dylan
looked up as I slid into the booth across from him.
Hey buddy, he said, quietly, pushing a glass of water
my way. I let out a long breath. I guess

(18:53):
you heard Saborina told me Laurence bin Off she texted
Sam earlier said she was taking some time for herself,
but that's all she said.

Speaker 2 (19:03):
Yeah, well, that.

Speaker 1 (19:04):
Time for herself is basically her moving out. I muttered,
raking a hand through my hair. I don't even know how.

Speaker 2 (19:11):
To process it.

Speaker 1 (19:12):
He frowned, you too, always seem solid. Did you guys fight?
I shook my head.

Speaker 2 (19:18):
Not really. We've just been drifting. She told me.

Speaker 1 (19:22):
We're not okay, and she doesn't know why. Dylan's expression
was sympathetic but uneasy. Look. I don't want to overstep,
but sometimes when a spouse leaves there's more going on.
Could it be that cheating? I finished for him, my
voice tight. I don't know, feels nuts to even think
about it. Dylan sipped his soda, eyes darting around as

(19:44):
if searching for the right words. Just be careful, Ethan,
don't let your imagination run wild, but also pay attention.
If something's not adding up, you should find out the truth.
I forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow. Guess I'll
se see if she calls. She said she would. In
the meantime, what can I do? He shrugged, live your life,

(20:07):
keep busy, talk to her if she's willing. But if
she's hiding something, well better to know than not. I
left the bar feeling both supported and unsettled. Dylan's words
only confirmed the suspicion I was desperately trying to deny.
On the drive home, I kept telling myself Lauren was
just stressed that this was a weird phase. Yet an

(20:30):
uneasy voice in my head whispered about the late nights,
the phone guarded by a pass code, the lies I
might have been Overlooking back at the house, the emptiness
was even louder than before. I considered calling Lauren Wright away,
but ended up flopping onto the couch instead, flicking through
Netflix for background noise. My mind wouldn't rest. I'd never

(20:53):
been the paranoid type, but I couldn't ignore the pit
in my stomach that told me there was more going
on if ventually, I turned off the TV and wandered
the house. I stepped into our bedroom, my bedroom now,
and stared at the half empty closet. Her clothes were gone,
except for a couple of old sweatshirts and a formal
dress she tucked in the back. The dresser drawers were

(21:16):
half open, two missing entire stacks of clothes. It struck
me like a punch to the gut. Seeing tangible proof
of her departure. I opened the top drawer, the one
where she kept random stuff, phone chargers, receipts, jewelry boxes.
There were still a few items in there, scattered as

(21:36):
if she'd left in a hurry. A wave of sadness
swept over me. Lauren had actually moved out, leaving behind
the stray pieces of her life. Setting the drawer closed again,
I noticed a tiny note taped on the inside corner,
something I'd never seen before. It was just a scrap
of paper with a phone number, no name, no explanation.

(21:59):
My heart thumb twildly. A million possibilities flooded my mind,
but I reminded myself it could be anything, a friend's number,
a hair salon, a real estate contact from a project
she'd done at work. Still, the fact it was hidden
almost deliberately, made my palms sweat. I grabbed my phone
and carefully dialed the digits, a pit forming in my

(22:22):
stomach as I waited. After three rings, it went to
a generic voice mail, a man's voice. I froze, heart pounding.
I didn't leave a message. Maybe it was a coworker,
or a client, or something else. My hands were trembling
as I set the phone down. This was probably nothing,
I told myself, but I couldn't ignore how I felt anxious, betrayed,

(22:45):
and strangely vindicated, like Ey'd accidentally stumbled onto a clue
and a mystery I never asked to investigate. I ended
up pacing the kitchen for hours, rechecking my phone for
any text or call from Lauren.

Speaker 2 (22:59):
None came.

Speaker 1 (23:00):
By the time I finally tried to sleep, all I
could hear was my own heart beat, thumping like an alarm.
I couldn't shut off. That night, I drifted into a
restless sleep, alone in an empty bed. My thoughts danced
between heartbreak and quiet fury, but I told myself it
was too soon to jump to conclusions. Maybe I'm just

(23:21):
imagining things. Maybe Lauren just needs time. Yet deep down,
that hidden phone number clung to my mind, fueling a
hunch that our problems went far beyond a simple rough patch.
A few days passed in a sort of uneasy limbo,
Lauren texted me once, a short message saying she was fine.
And would be in touch soon. She didn't answer any

(23:42):
of my questions where exactly she was staying, what she
was doing, or if she'd come home. The dread in
my gut grew with each passing hour of silence. I
tried to distract myself by going to work early and
staying late, but there was only so much I could
do before my mind's stocked garted wandering again. Jake, my coworker,
noticed my mood and tried to lighten things up in

(24:05):
the break room. He'd crack jokes about our boss or
mention weekend plans, but I was too preoccupied to be
good company. On a Thursday, around lunchheim, I stepped outside
to grab a sandwich from a nearby deli. As I
waited in line, I overheard two women chatting at the
next table over. They were mid conversation, not paying much

(24:27):
attention to me, but my ears pricked when I caught
Lauren's name. At first I couldn't believe it, but sure enough,
one of them said, Lauren Carter. I held my breath listening.
One woman said something about her coworker's friend, and the
other replied, I heard Laurence living with some guy now
it's like she totally left her husband. My stomach twisted.

(24:49):
That had to be a coincidence, right, accept How many
Lauren Carter's are out there? Probably a few, But it
felt like a punch in the gut all the same
when I got my sand which I had half a
mind to approach them to ask what they knew. But
that felt ridiculous, eavesdropping on strangers demanding details about my
own wife till I couldn't just ignore what I heard.

(25:13):
My nerves buzzed the entire walk back to the office.
Later that afternoon, I got a call from a friend
of ours named Valerie, someone Lauren and I had known
since college. She was a bit of a busy body,
but usually well intentioned. Ethan, Hey, it's val Look, this
might be none of my business, but I heard something

(25:34):
and I thought you should know. My heart thumped.

Speaker 2 (25:37):
What is it?

Speaker 1 (25:38):
She hesitated. I ran into Gina. Remember Gina Mitchell, whose
friends with Lauren from her old job. Well, Gina told
me that Lauren's been seeing someone else, a coworker. Apparently.
I don't know the details, but the rumor is there
living together. A rush of heat flared through me, followed
by icy dread. Are you sure it's Lauren Carter we're

(26:01):
talking about, I asked, my voice shaking, beal exhaled. I'm
afraid so. Jeana sounded pretty certain. She said she's seen
them at lunches, dinners, that sort of thing. She was
worried about telling me, but I guess she assumed I
already knew. I closed my eyes, feeling the world tilt.
Thanks for letting me know, I managed, though my throat

(26:24):
felt like sand paper. I hung up, hands trembling. For
a few minutes, I just sat there, numb. Could Lauren
actually be living with another man? I didn't want to
believe it. Part of me wanted to rage, to call
her right then and demand an explanation, but an odd
voice in my head told me to stay calm. If

(26:45):
I confronted her now, I might never get the truth.
A memory flashed of that scrap of paper in her drawer,
the phone number a co worker, possibly his number. I
left the office early and drove aimlessly for a while,
ending up at a small park near the river. I
parked under a tree and just sat there, staring at

(27:05):
the water. The possibility of Lauren betraying me in that
way it gutted me. I'd never considered she'd do something
like that, but the rumors plus her abrupt exit painted
a stark picture. Around six, Dylan called. I almost didn't answer,
but guilt made me pick up. Hey, I said, voice

(27:26):
thick e. Sabrina told me something and man, I don't
know how to say this. Dylan began, it's about Lauren.
People are talking. Are you okay? I felt my jaw tighten.
So now the rumor mill had spread to our close
friends as well. Not really, I said, quietly, what exactly
did you hear? Dylan hesitated. Sabrina said that one of

(27:49):
Lauren's coworker's hinted Lauren's got someone else, a guy named
Adam King I think works in her department. Saborina's not
sure if f it's a fling or something' se furious,
but you think she's with him? Now? I asked, the words,
tasting bitter on my tongue. He sighed, I don't know, Ethan,
I'm just telling you what Sabrina heard. I sank back

(28:12):
in my seat, tears threatening to surface.

Speaker 2 (28:15):
Thanks.

Speaker 1 (28:16):
I appreciate you letting me know. After I hung up,
I couldn't stand sitting still and amore. I started the car,
thinking of driving to her workplace, confronting her, but that
plan fell apart in my mind. She hadn't come home
for days. If she was truly living with this adam,
I wouldn't find her at the office, and how desperate

(28:37):
would I look, storming in demanding answers. Instead, I ended
up back at our my house. The place greeted me
with the same lonely silence it had all weak. I
tossed my keys on the table, the sound echoing in
the emptiness. If the rumors were true, Lauren was comfortably
shacked up somewhere else while I sat here alone, reeling

(28:59):
with betrayal. Unable to rest, I wandered into the garage,
rummaging through old boxes, trying to distract myself. In one
dusty corner, I found an old photo album from one
Lauren and I first started dating. The pictures showed us
beaming at the camera, arms around each other, living in
that blissful ignorance of Nula Weed life. There were pictures

(29:21):
of us at a campsite by Lake Tahoe, building a
snowman in Colorado, celebrating her birthday at a fancy restaurant,
looking at those photos. Now I felt like I was
viewing strangers. The warmth in our eyes, the laughter, I
barely recognized it. How could she jump from that life
to living with another guy without even telling me. I

(29:42):
spent the evening flipping through random pages of our shared history,
dwelling on each memory. Anger simmered beneath my pain, a
low boil of resentment that I'd been left in the dark.
If she'd fallen out of love, why not talk to me?
Why not of the courage to say I'm seeing someone
else else? Later, I walked into the kitchen and stared

(30:03):
at the fridge door, where a few magnets held up
receipts and a grocery list from weeks ago. My eyes
scanned over Lauren's neat handwriting, listing things like spinach, milk, bread,
and that random brand of cereal she liked. A silly
wave of nostalgia hit me. We used to grocery shop
together every Sunday. Now I couldn't even remember the last

(30:25):
time we'd done it. Just as I was about to
head to bed, my phone pinked with the text. My
heart jumped, hoping it was Lauren, but the screen showed
Saborina's name Ethan, I'm so sorry about everything. If you
need someone to talk to, Dylan and I are here.
I swallowed hard, typing back a quick thanks. I didn't

(30:46):
have the energy for a conversation, but it was nice
to know I wasn't entirely alone. Even so, I couldn't
shake the feeling that the entire neighborhood, maybe half our friends,
were whispering about Lauren's betrayal, and somehow I was the
last to find out. As I lay in the dark later,
my mind spun through every rumor I had heard that day.

(31:08):
Lauren might be living with Adam King, she might be cheating,
or maybe this was just an elaborate misunderstanding, but the
text from Sabrina seemed to confirm the worst. I felt
hollow again, remembering how I'd always trusted Lauren implicitly. Now
I was questioning everything, from the nights she said she
was working late to the time she kept her phone

(31:29):
on silent for the first time since she left. A
thought surfaced, I need to know the truth, whatever it is.
I drifted off to sleep that night with a strange
combination of dread and determination pooling in my chest. The
next steps might tear my life apart, but I couldn't
hide from reality any longer. The weak nd crept in

(31:51):
like a drawn out sigh. I'd spent most of it
catching myself, staring at my phone, waiting for a text
or a mist call from Lauren, some proof that all
those rumors were lies, But the screen stayed disappointingly blank.
My best friend Dylan had urged me not to jump
to conclusions. He said, maybe it was all a misunderstanding.

(32:12):
Yet my gut told me I needed answers, solid answers
that I couldn't get just by confronting Loren directly. On Monday,
right after a restless night of turning my pillow over
and over, I dialed the number for a private investigator
i'd found online, John Parker. His reviews mentioned he was discreet,
professional and sharp, exactly what I needed. I'd never done

(32:37):
anything like this before, so my palms were sweating even
as I tapped in the digits Parker Investigations. A brisk
male voice answered Hi, I said, trying to sound more
confident than I felt. I'd like to schedule an appointment
with mister Parker. It's about my wife. Two hours later,

(32:57):
I found myself in a small office wheat on the
north side of town. The waiting room was unremarkable, gray carpet,
a couple of magazines, an artificial plant by the window.
A young receptionist in a neat ponatail offered me a
seat and some water. I paced instead, feeling my nerves
spike every time I heard footsteps in the hallway. Finally,

(33:20):
a tall man wearing a navy polo and slacks emerged.
He looked to be in his mid forties, hairline receding
just a bit Ethan Carter, he asked, giving me a
firm handshake, John Parker. We stepped into his office, a
simple space with a desk, two chairs, and a file cabinet.
Not the smoky, shadowed room I half expected from old

(33:43):
detective movies. This was modern and bright, though the blinds
were half drawn. So Parker said, settling behind his desk
and folding his hands. What can I do for you,
mister Carter? I hesitated, but something about his calm demeanor
put me at ease. My wife, Lauren, moved out a
couple of weeks ago. She said she needed space, that

(34:06):
things weren't working. But now I'm hearing rumors she's living
with another guy, a coworker named Adam King. He nodded,
not looking surprised. Probably heard this type of story a
hundred times. Have you confronted her? I shook my head.

Speaker 2 (34:23):
Not yet.

Speaker 1 (34:24):
I don't have proof. I don't even know where she's staying,
and part of me I just don't want to screw
this up by accusing.

Speaker 2 (34:32):
Her without facts.

Speaker 1 (34:34):
I see, Parker leaned forward. What exactly do you hope
to accomplish with the information. I thought about that for
a second. I want the truth. If she's cheating, then
I need to know, and if she is, I might
I might want to file for divorce. My chest tightened
the word, still feeling alien. But I can't just rely

(34:56):
on rumors. Can you help me? He gave a slight nod.

Speaker 2 (35:00):
I can.

Speaker 1 (35:01):
We'll need details her workplace, typical schedule, any friends or
family she might confide in. I'll run surveillance, follow her
if necessary, and gather photographic evidence. If your suspicion is correct,
you'll have something concrete. We spent the next half hour
hashing out specifics.

Speaker 2 (35:20):
I told him.

Speaker 1 (35:20):
Lauren worked at an architectural firm called Camden and Cross
downtown open office layout, flexible hours, lots of client meetings.
I also mentioned Adam King's name, though I had no
address for him. Parker said it was enough to start.
He asked me to text him a recent photo of
Lauren so he'd know who to tell. Before I left,

(35:42):
we settled on a retainer fee, which i'd pay by check.
He handed me a small contract outlining confidentiality. My stomach
churned as I signed it, aware that once I walked
out there was no going back. I was officially spying
on my own wife. As we shook hands, Parker gave
me a professional smile. Try to take it easy, mister Carter.

(36:05):
I'll be in touch with updates soon. Ye.

Speaker 2 (36:09):
Thanks.

Speaker 1 (36:09):
I forced a tight grin, though my heart pounded with
a mix of guilt and relief. In the reception an area,
I almost bumped into a petite woman with a file
folder clutched to her chest. She apologized in a flustered voice,
and I wondered briefly how many people came through here
desperate for the truth about their partners. The thought made

(36:30):
me shiver. I never wanted to be one of them,
but here I was. The next few days were agonizing
every time my phone chimed. I'd scrambled to see if
it was Parker. Instead, I got texts from coworkers about deadlines,
a random group chat from high school friends planning a reunion,
and once a message from Dylan Dylan, Hey, you free Saturday,

(36:53):
Sabrina and I want to invite you over for dinner.
Me sure, thanks could use the distract. No word from Lauren,
no word from Parker. I tried to bury my mind
in spreadsheets at the office, but it felt like every
minute dragged. I even tried going to a gym after work,
something I rarely did, just to burn off the restless

(37:15):
energy roiling in my gut. Midweek, Parker finally texted, I
need to meet have some preliminary findings. My stomach dropped,
and I immediately replied, asking if he could talk over
the phone. He said it was better we met in person.
We arranged to meet at a little coffee shop near
my office. It was a place Lauren and I used

(37:37):
to go sometimes on Sundays, but I tried not to
dwell on that. Parker arrived right on time, wearing jeans
and a gray button up. He sat across from me,
ordered a black coffee and waited until the barstam moved
away before speaking. I've been tracking your wife's whereabouts for
a couple of days, he said quietly. She's definitely not

(37:58):
staying at her old apartment. I resisted the urge to
correct him. It was our house, not her apartment, but
I kept my mouth shut, focusing on his words. Parker continued,
I followed her after she left work Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.
She went to a condominium complex near the water front.
Securities tight, but I saw her enter the underground garage

(38:22):
with a guy I assume is Adam King. I have
some pictures though there from a distance. My pulse hammered.
So she's basically living there, he hesitated. I haven't seen
her physically carry in a suitcase, but it appears she's
either spending nights or extended hours. They go in together,
then nobody comes out until the next morning. Different cars.

(38:46):
He has a black SUV, she still has her Sedan.
That suggests they're keeping up appearances at work, but seeing
each other outside. I clenched my teeth, a wave of
nausea hitting me. You said you have pictures, He slid
me the small envelope. A few snatchhots. They are not
super clear, but you can identify her. I didn't look

(39:08):
just then, too afraid of the emotional punch. Instead, I
tucked the envelope into my jacket pocket.

Speaker 2 (39:15):
Thanks.

Speaker 1 (39:16):
He leaned forward, Ethan, I realize this is rough. Do
you want me to keep digging? We can get more
definitive proof if you need it, time stamped videos, further surveillance.
My throat felt tight. Yes, I need to be sure
right now, it's all suspicion, even if it's strong.

Speaker 2 (39:36):
Keep going.

Speaker 1 (39:37):
Parker nodded, all right, I'll reach out in another few
days we parted ways. I sat there at the coffee
shop for a while, letting the lotte in front of
me go cold. My hands shook as I finally pulled
the envelope out and peeked at the photos. Even though
the images were grainy, I recognized Lauren's figure, her long hair,

(40:00):
the familiar coat, and the man beside her, tall, wearing
a suit, with an easy confidence. I despised Adam King.
My worst fears were taking shape an unflinching truth and
a handful of blurry pictures. She wasn't just taking time
to think she'd replaced me when I got home, I
dropped my keys on the counter and stared into the

(40:21):
quiet living room. I felt a strange numbus. Not the
emptiness from before, but a cold, steely anger. Lauren was
living a new life while I was stuck in our
half empty house playing detective. I sank onto the couch,
the photos fanned out on the coffee table. The next
move was up to me. Did I confront her or

(40:41):
wait for more proof. My mind spun with possible scenarios
and a faint but growing part of me wanted not
just to confront her, but to make her pay for.

Speaker 2 (40:51):
All of this.

Speaker 1 (40:52):
Three days later, John Parker asked to see me again.
This time we met at a small diner just off
the highway. The place had vinyl booths, a faint smell
of frying bacon, and the constant clink of dishes from
behind the counter. I slid into a booth near the back,
away from prying ears. Parker joined me with a nod,

(41:13):
carrying a thin folder. The moment we locked eyes, I
knew he had something big. How are you holding up,
he asked, not unkindly. I gave a half shrug. As
well as I can be, considering my gaze dropped to
the folder.

Speaker 2 (41:28):
In his hand.

Speaker 1 (41:29):
You have more, he exhaled, flipping the folder open. Yes,
I've spent the past few evenings tailing Lauren that condo
near the waterfront. I confirmed it belongs to Adam King
Poundy records show he purchased the unit last year. She's
been going there almost every night. My stomach twisted. So

(41:50):
it's not just a fling. She's basically living with him.
He tapped the folder. I also got more photos, sometimes damped.
The two of them went grocery shopping together at a
store near the condo on Thursday night. On Friday, they
had dinner at a little Italian place in the same neighborhood.
He paused, they looked comfortable. Despite bracing myself, the confirmation stung.

(42:15):
My wife was grocery shopping with another man, like a
casual married couple. That used to be our routine, wandering
the aisles, choosing produce, arguing playfully over serial brands. Now
she was building that routine with someone else. Parker gently
pushed the folder across the table. I opened it, scanning

(42:35):
picture after picture, Lauren leaning against Adam's black SUV carrying
a shopping bag, unlocking the condo door. In one shot,
they looked like they were laughing together, her hand on
his shoulder. My heart thudded a potent mix of rage
and sorrow. You've got more than enough evidence of an affair,
Parker said, quietly, retrieving a small USB drive from his

(42:58):
shirt pocket. This has short video clips date time. If
it comes to a legal matter, any decent attorney could
use this. I nodded, carefully, pocketing the USB. Thanks, you've
done your job. I guess that's all I need write,
He eyed me with caution. It might be, but if
you want further confirmation, like interior shots or direct proof

(43:22):
that she's actually living there, I can keep going up
to you. Anger flared in my chest. Part of me
wanted every detail, to know exactly how many nights she
spent there, how she talked about me, if she ever
mentioned guilt, But my rational side said I'd seen enough.
I think this is good. I said, let's pause the

(43:43):
investigation for now. If I need more, I'll call you.
Parker slid out of the booth and shook my hand,
leaving me alone with a folder. My appetite was gone.
I tossed a couple of bills on the table and
left the diner, not even caring that I'd wasted a
perfectly decent burger and fries. Driving home, I replayed every

(44:04):
scene in my head, Lauren smiling at Adam, loading groceries
into his suv, kissing him on the cheek, something Parker
had described but I hadn't seen in the photos yet.
A nauseating image formed, and my knuckles turned white on
the steering wheel. Back at the house, I slumped on
the couch. The silence felt heavier than ever, like it

(44:25):
was pressing down on me. I spread the photos on
the coffee table, sorting.

Speaker 2 (44:30):
Them by date.

Speaker 1 (44:31):
My mind churned with the knowledge that Lauren was effectively
building a life with another man while I'd been at
home waiting for her calls that never came. What now,
I wondered. Part of me wanted to drive straight to
that condo, bang on the door, and demand an explanation,
but I knew from the rumors that Lauren had carefully
engineered her exit. If I confronted her head on, I'd

(44:55):
only get half truths or lies. Later that evening, I
tried calling Dylan, but it went straight to voicemail. I
paced the living room pictures in hand, uncertain how to
process the betrayal. Then I noticed a mist call from Maggie,
a coworker from my office. She was part of the
finance team, someone I chatted with occasionally in the break room.

(45:17):
I called her back, grateful for any destruction. Hey, Ethan,
she answered, sounding hesitant. Everything okay, ye, why? I asked,
sinking on to the edge.

Speaker 2 (45:28):
Of the couch.

Speaker 1 (45:29):
She paused, I just I heard from someone that you
and Lauren separated, and then I saw you acting a
bit strange at work lately. I wanted to see if
you're all right. I let out a shaky breath. We
did separate. It's complicated. Maggie's voice softened. I'm so sorry.
If you need someone to talk to, I'm around. I

(45:51):
know we're not super close, but I've been through divorce myself,
so it sucks. I found some relief in her sincerity. Thanks, Maggie,
I appreciate it. We chatted a bit about mundane work stuff,
and though it didn't solve anything, it felt good to
talk about something normal. I realized I'd been isolating myself,

(46:11):
letting the situation swallow me whole. After hanging up, I
looked at the photographs again, heart pounding with a now
familiar ache. The images of Lauren with Adam might as
well have been daggers in my chest, but slowly those
daggers sparked a fire in me anger. She'd walked away
as if she wanted space, but in truth she'd been

(46:32):
weaving a whole new relationship. I wanted to hear her side,
but after seeing the evidence, I doubted she'd give me honesty.
She'd never admitted the affair on her own, had she.
An idea flickered at the back of my mind. If
she was cunning enough to slip out quietly, I could
be cunning too. Even though I hadn't confronted her yet,

(46:54):
something told me I should prepare myself legally, financially and emotionally.
This was no longer just heartbreak. It was the start
of something bigger, though I didn't fully understand how far
I'd take it. I ended the night by locking the
photos and USB in a drawer in my home office.
The sense of finality weighed on me and my gut.

(47:16):
I knew there was no going back to the way
things were not after what I'd seen. I sat in
darkness for a long time, envisioning my next steps like
puzzle pieces, lawyer, finances, property. I also felt a pang
of guilt and confusion. Was I going to cross lines
I'd never considered before? Was I about to become a

(47:36):
person I barely recognized? I shut my eyes inhaling the
stale air. I had to calm down or I'd make
reckless choices. But as much as I told myself to breathe,
the anger grew louder, a dark whisper, urging me not
to let Lauren get away with this. She'd lied, She'd
hurt me. There needed to be consequences. That Saturday, I

(47:59):
drove to dylan house for dinner, something we'd set up
earlier in the week.

Speaker 2 (48:03):
It felt odd.

Speaker 1 (48:04):
Going through motions like normal social visits when my life
was in shambles, but I figured it'd be better than
stewing alone at home. Their place was a cozy, ranch
style home in a quiet suburb. Sabrina greeted me at
the door, wearing the friendly smile that looked a bit forced.
She pulled me in for a brief hug. Hey Ethan,

(48:26):
She said, softly, how are you holding up bin better?
I admitted, stepping inside, Dylan was in the kitchen, stirring
something in a pot. The smell of garlic and tomatoes
filled the air. We sat down around the dining table,
plates of spaghetti with home made sauce in front of us.
Dylan tried to make small talk about sports, but I

(48:48):
sensed tension in the air, like both Heat and Sabrina
were waiting for me to say something. Eventually, Sabrina cleared
her throat, so, how's everything with Lauren. Her eyes flicked
to Dylan, who nodded, looking uneasy. I exhaled, deciding honesty
was best.

Speaker 2 (49:05):
Not great.

Speaker 1 (49:06):
She's with another man, I said, voice catching in my throat.
I hired a private investigator to confirm it's definitely happening.
Sabrina's hand flew to her mouth. Oh, Ethan, I'm so sorry.
She glanced at Dylan, A look passing between them something
told me they weren't entirely shocked. Dylan sat down his fork,

(49:29):
eyes full of concern.

Speaker 2 (49:30):
Ye.

Speaker 1 (49:30):
I wish we'd known for sure sooner. I heard rumors,
but we didn't know how to tell you. If we
warn't certain, we thought maybe they were just office gossip.
I shrugged, trying to tamp down my hurt. It would
have been nice to have a head's up, even if
it was just a rumor.

Speaker 2 (49:47):
But I get it.

Speaker 1 (49:48):
Nobody wants to be the one to break news like that.
They both winced. I could tell they felt guilty, maybe
a little shamed. Sabrina reached across the table and touched
my arm. We care about you, Ethan, we truly do.
It's just complicated. I nodded, swirling my fork through the
spaghetti without much appetite. So did you guys know this

(50:12):
Adam King, Dylan sighed. I met him once at a
work function. I came across as smooth, you know, got
that silver tongue. He was telling jokes, bragging about deals.

Speaker 2 (50:24):
He closed.

Speaker 1 (50:25):
I didn't think much of it at the time, Sabrina added.
Lauren never said anything about him to me directly, not
like a boyfriend. She just mentioned a coworker named Adam
who was really helpful on some project. That's all I knew,
She paused. I's downcast. I'm sorry if you feel like
we failed you. My chest tightened. I appreciate it. Next time,

(50:49):
just tell me what you hear. I'd rather know than
be blind sided. Dinner proceeded in a subdued hush. Dylan
tried changing topics, asking me about somehow repairs I had done,
and Saborina chimed in about a local festival happening next weekend,
But the elephant in the room never left. After dinner,
Sabriina went to clear the dishes, and Dylan led me

(51:11):
into his small den, where we settled on a worn
leather couch. He handed me a beer from the mini fridge,
cracking one open for himself. You sure you're okay, he
asked quietly. You're holding it together, but I can see
how wrecked you are. I took a swig, letting the
mild bitterness linger on my tongue. I'm angry, Dylan, more

(51:33):
than sad, I guess like I keep picturing her laughing
with him lying to me this whole time. I feel
like a fool, He pursed his lips.

Speaker 2 (51:42):
No, man, you're not a fool. She played you. That's
on her.

Speaker 1 (51:47):
A spark of resentment flared. Everybody knew but me. He
placed a hand on my shoulder. I know it feels
that way, but it's not true. People might have suspected
or heard rumors, but you're the only one who can
confirm your reality, and now you have. I stared at
the dark TV screen, remembering the photos in Parker's folder.

(52:08):
A swirl of bitterness, heartbreak, and the urge to retaliate
tangled inside me. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to
do now, I murmured, Should I confront her or just
file for divorce? Dylan looked uncomfortable. I can't tell you
the right move, but you got to watch your own back.
Lauren's been sneaky about this. Who knows what else she's doing.

(52:31):
Somewhere in the background, I heard the soft clink of
dishes as Sabrina tidied up. She came to the doorway,
drying her hands on a towel, looking tentative. Hey, I overheard,
she said gently. If you need help, like a lawyer
or something, my cousin used a great family attorney last year.
I could pass along the info. I forced a small smile. Thanks, Sabrina,

(52:54):
that might be useful. The rest of the night was
spent talking in careful circles. They apologized again, told me
they supported whatever I decided. I left with a pit
in my stomach, wishing I could just rewind the clock
and force Lauren to be honest before all this happened.
On my drive home, my phone buzzed. For a wild second,

(53:16):
I hoped it was Lauren, may be wanting to explain everything,
but it was a text from Dylan. Dylan, sorry again,
we're here for you. Don't do anything rash. I typed
back a quick thank you, though his caution rubbed me
the wrong way.

Speaker 2 (53:32):
Rash.

Speaker 1 (53:33):
No, I wasn't going to do anything rash. But I
couldn't just sit around either. My anger was morphing into
a cold determination. I planned to do things carefully, protect myself,
gather evidence, and if needed, quietly out maneuver Lauren before
she had the chance to ruin me further. When I
got home, the emptiness felt almost welcoming. I flipped on

(53:55):
the living room lamp, took out the trash.

Speaker 2 (53:58):
Then sank into a arm chair.

Speaker 1 (54:01):
The memory of Dylan and Sabrina's awkward apologies still clung
to me. It hurt to realize my friends suspected her
affair yet said nothing, But maybe I was blaming them
for something that was really Lauren's fault. In that moment,
I resolved not to be the clueless victim enymore. Whatever
came next, I was going to be prepared. Monday morning

(54:23):
dawned bright and unnervingly normal. My phone alarm beaped. I showered,
threw on a shirt and tie, and headed to the
office like any other day. But beneath the mundane routine,
I felt a shift, a new sense of purpose. At
my desk, I opened the banking app on my computer.
Lauren and I still had joint accounts, though she hadn't

(54:44):
contributed since moving out. We also had some certificates of
deposit CDs for long term savings. My gaze drifted over
the balances, a calculating feeling stirring in my chest. If
Lauren planned to break free and run off with Adam,
she might might come for these assets. Eventually, I pulled
up a second tab, searching for early withdrawal penalties on

(55:06):
the CDs, not huge, but enough to sting. My mind
ticked through possibilities. If I pulled out the funds, I
could stash them in a private account. Part of me
balked at the idea, remembering that any sudden move might
tip lore an off. But something else, the part that
refused to be duped again told me I'd regret leaving

(55:27):
that money unprotected. Just then, Maggie from Finance stopped by
my cubicle a file in her arms, mourning ethan need
your signature on these invoices, She offered a friendly smile.

Speaker 2 (55:40):
You holding up? Okay?

Speaker 1 (55:42):
I nodded stiffly, signing, where she indicated, yeah, thanks, just
a lot on my mind, she lingered, lowering her voice. Look,
if you ever need a conversation about finances, you know,
especially with what you're going through, let me know. I
help people with accounts and stuff, sometimes off the record.

(56:03):
A surprising sense of relief flooded me. I appreciate that, Maggie,
I really do. Once she left, I opened an incognito
browser window. I researched local banks where I could open
a new account swiftly, no fuss. My heart pounded with
the thought of shifting funds behind Lauren's back, but the
memory of her deception fueled my resolve. That evening, after

(56:26):
finishing up at the office, I drove to a small
branch on the opposite side of town, less chance of
running into anyone who knew us. I sat with a teller,
a friendly older woman named Bernie's, and told her I
wanted to open a new personal account as we went
through the paperwork. My nerves hummed. This felt like crossing

(56:47):
the line, a first real step in a bigger plan.
I hadn't fully formed Bernie's typed away, pausing only to
confirm my ID. You want to transfer a certain amount
from an existing count or deposit checks. I stared at
the blank lines, recalling the penalty for cashing out a
CD early. My rational side said to move carefully, do

(57:09):
it bit by bit so Lorn wouldn't notice. I'll deposit
a cashier's check. I finally said, can I come back
later to transfer more? Of course, she slid me the
forms to sign whenever you like. I left the bank
feeling oddly triumphant, as if I'd just sealed the first
layer of protection around myself. Sure it was small, just

(57:31):
a few thousand from my personal savings for now, but
I had a plan over the next few weeks. I'd
quietly shift assets, keeping it just under the raidar Soloren
and Adam wouldn't catch wind. She'd walked out on me,
but I wasn't about to let her waltz off with
half of everything we built. The next day, I told
my boss I might need some personal leave soon. Playing

(57:53):
the sympathy card about my marriage trouble. He frowned, but
was understanding, telling me to do what I had had
to do. Meanwhile, I dropped subtle hints around the office
that I was planning a fishing trip to Mexico, a
nice rumor two. I figured let people think I was
on the verge of taking a long break. If Lauren
asked around, if she even bothered, she'd hear I was

(58:16):
stressed out, maybe escaping for a bit. By Wednesday, I'd
started making smaller withdrawals from the joint checking, not enough
to raise immediate red flags, but enough to make me
feel more secure. My phone pinged around lunch with a
text from Dylan. Dylan, how's everything. Any news on Lauren?

Speaker 2 (58:37):
Me?

Speaker 1 (58:38):
Nothing new. I'm just working through some plans. I didn't elaborate.
If Dylan sensed how methodical I was becoming, I wasn't
sure how he'd react. A part of me crave to confidante,
but another part wanted to keep this close to the chest.
My circle of trust was shrinking. Lauren's betrayal had done that.

(58:58):
At the end of the week, my day was interrupted
by a phone call from the bank's main branch. A
courtesy call, verifying a recent transaction. I confirmed it, thanking them.
As I hung up, I felt a surge of adrenaline.
The slow motion film of my life kept rolling, but
I was rewriting the script step by careful step. Before

(59:20):
heading home, I stopped by a local hardware store and
picked up a small fireproof lock box. The cashier, an
older man with thinning hair, asked if I was protecting valuables.
I just gave a non committal nod, eyes down inside,
though I was telling myself this was the new me.

Speaker 2 (59:38):
Cautious, prepared.

Speaker 1 (59:40):
I'd store important documents in there, maybe even the detective's photos,
any legal forms I gathered. If Florin truly intended to
fight me later, I'd be ready. Late that night, I
sat at the kitchen table, the lock box beside me.
I scribbled down notes on a legal pad potential lawyers,

(01:00:00):
how to handle the mortgage, which accounts were safe to
drain without immediate suspicion. The overhead light buzzed softly, adding
to the surreal mood. This was the first real taste
of vengeance, albeit a quiet one. I found myself whispering
under my breath, you want to leave me for Adam king, fine,
but you won't get a damn penny more than you deserve.

(01:00:23):
A chill swept over me, realizing how cold I sounded.
Yet a flicker of satisfaction accompanied the chill. Maybe I
wasn't the naive husband Annamore. In the stillness, I heard
a faint beep, my phone battery dying. I let it go.
I didn't need distractions. I was locked into a plan,

(01:00:44):
or at least the beginning of one. My old life
was gone, replaced by secrecy and calculations. Maybe that's what
betrayal does, transforms love into something ruthless. I closed my eyes,
listening to my own heartbeat and the hum of the refrigerator. Slowly, methodically,
I gathered the scattered papers and placed them in the

(01:01:05):
lock box. I snapped it shut with a decisive click,
feeling like I'd crossed a threshold. This was only the start,
but it was enough to remind me I wasn't powerless.
When I showed up to work on Monday morning, I
surprised my coworkers by acting almost normal, smiling, saying hello,
even cracking a joke or two with Maggie and Finance.

(01:01:28):
The rumor round the office was that I'd been considering
the fishing trip to Mexico, something I deliberately planted. Most
people gave me sympathetic, curious looks, but nobody pressed me
too hard. My best guess, they assumed I was handling
my recent marital meltdown by throwing myself into day to
day life. In reality, I was playing a double game.

(01:01:50):
Every chance I got, I kept an eye on my
joint bank statements. Lauren and I still had credit cards
in both our name. She used them for groceries, big purchases,
all the usual things a spouse might do, but now
that she was practically living with Adam King, it felt
like she was dipping into our money while building a

(01:02:10):
new life with someone else.

Speaker 2 (01:02:12):
I had a.

Speaker 1 (01:02:13):
Cold, determined plan to exploit that. Over the past couple
of weeks, I'd already started moving cash out of our
shared checking but now I turned my attention to the
credit cards one at a time. I began making sizeable
purchases electronics, expensive house gadgets, and having them shipped to
a storage unit in a neighboring town under my name alone.

(01:02:35):
The idea was that once I disappeared those items, the
bills would still land in Lauren's lap. If she didn't
pay close attention, it was ruthless, sure, but given what
she was doing, I figured turnabout was fair play. That afternoon,
during lunch, I ducked into an empty conference room and
dialed the toll free number on the back of one

(01:02:56):
of our joint credit cards. I raised my voice slightly,
imitating the same polite tone Lauren always used. Hi, this
is Lauren Carter, I said, heart pounding as I lied
through my teeth. I'd like to verify a credit limit increase.
The customer service rep asked me a couple of routine questions,

(01:03:16):
social security number, mother's maiden name, and I rattled them
off with surprising ease. Lauren's basic info was still etched
in my memory after all these years. By the end
of the call, I had not only increased the credit line,
but also switched to electronic billing, no more paper statements,
arriving at our old mailbox.

Speaker 2 (01:03:37):
When I hung.

Speaker 1 (01:03:38):
Up, I stared at my reflection in the blank TV
screen at the front of the conference room. Ethan Carter,
the calm, quiet husband, was taking shape into someone else entirely.
A small flash of guilt flickered at the back of
my mind, but I pushed it down. This was the
price for her deceit, and I'd only begun Later that evening.

(01:03:59):
I cleared out early from the office. The weather was chilly,
the autumn air settling in fast. On my drive home,
I spotted a bridle shop that hadn't been there before
Forever Dreams. A maniq when wearing the lacy white gown,
stood in the window, and it struck me how different
I felt compared to when I'd married Lauren. A flashback

(01:04:20):
our wedding day years ago. She wore a simple ivory
dress and we both laughed so hard during our vows
that the efficient joke we'd better stop or risk forgetting
our lines. There'd been so much warmth, a sense of
comfort I believed would last forever. Now the memory felt
like a dream. I could barely recall. Who was that

(01:04:40):
naive groom? I sighed, accelerating past the bridle shop. No
use dwelling on a past that didn't exist anymore. At home,
I found an Amazon box at my doorstep, one of
the electronics I'd ordered using Lauren's card. I tucked it
under my arm, carried it inside, and added it to
a growing part isle in the spare room. Eventually I'd

(01:05:02):
shift everything to that rented storage unit. For now, I
needed to keep the boxes out of sight.

Speaker 2 (01:05:08):
I grabbed a.

Speaker 1 (01:05:09):
Quick microwave dinner and scrolled through my phone. A text
from Dylan popped up. Dylan, you're doing okay, man, haven't
heard from you in a bit. Me all good, just
keeping my head down. Thanks for checking in. I dropped
the phone on the table. Dylan didn't know. I was
living a secret life, pretending to be docile and heart

(01:05:31):
broken on the outside, but quietly stock bowing purchases and
siphoning funds on the inside. Let Lauren think I was spiraling,
let everyone think that. Meanwhile, I was orchestrating my next moves.
Before bed, I stared at the ceiling in the dark,
A swirl of emotions weighed on me. Was I turning

(01:05:52):
into a monster or was I just adapting? After all,
I'd never asked for Lauren to cheat. If she hadn't
left me in the dust, I'd still be that earnest
guy trying to fix our marriage. This new persona felt foreign,
but also powerful. In the end, I told myself I
had no choice. If she could be cunning, so could I.

(01:06:13):
I drifted off, half smiling at the thought that Lauren
had no idea how thoroughly I was planning to out
maneuver her. I didn't expect Dylan and Sabrina's dinner invitation
to lead to any new Boanchels, but the world had
become full of surprises lately. They had me over on
a Thursday night, Sabrina insisted on making her legendary meat loaf.

(01:06:34):
When I arrived, I found the two of them in
the living room looking tents. Sabrina was pacing and Dylan
was flipping channels on mute, not really paying attention. Hey,
I greeted, setting a bottle of wine on their coffee table.
Everything okay, Dylan exchanged a glance with Sabrina, then shrugged, Yeah, sure,

(01:06:55):
we just we wanted to talk to you about something,
but let's eat first. While we scooped up dinner, I
filled them in on my pseudo progress at work, how
I was coping. I didn't mention my deeper schemes. Sabrina
occasionally reached for Dylan's hand, giving it a soft squeeze.
I got the sense they were both building up to something. Finally,

(01:07:18):
once the plates were cleared, we settled in the living room.
Sabrina took a deep breath. I guess I'll just say it.
Dylan can't have kids. We found that out after a
bunch of tests, and it's been She swallowed, glancing at
her husband hard for both of us. I blinked in confusion.
I'm sorry to hear that, but why, Dylan cut in

(01:07:40):
voice low look ethan. I know this might sound off
the wall, but we've been talking about starting a family
for a long time, and after everything you're going through,
we had a crazy thought. They explained it. Sabrina wanted
a baby, but Dylan's terility made that impossible. The old
fashioned way adopted was an option, but Sabrina longed for

(01:08:02):
a biological child, and they didn't want an anonymous sperm donor.
They wanted me, someone they trusted to help Sabrina conceive.
I almost choked on my own breath. Are you too serious?
My mind replayed the words, double checking I hadn't misunderstood.
Sabrina's cheeks reddened. Believe me, this isn't some petty proposal.

Speaker 2 (01:08:25):
We jest.

Speaker 1 (01:08:26):
We feel safe with you. We know what you've gone
through with Lauren, and we don't understand if this is
the worst timing possible, but we had to ask. My
heart pounded. Lauren's betrayal was the only framework I had
for stepping out on my marriage, even if it was
basically dead. But the concept of impregnating Sabrina with Dylan's

(01:08:46):
blessing it felt surreal. I shifted on the couch, glancing
at Dylan, who nodded with an awkward smile.

Speaker 2 (01:08:53):
I know it's weird, man.

Speaker 1 (01:08:54):
He said, but we trust you, and if you say no,
we get it. No heart feelings. My head spun. Just
weeks ago, I was a happily oblivious husband. Now I
was forging elaborate revenge plans on my cheating wife and
hearing from my best friend that he wanted me to
father his child. I need to think I managed breaking

(01:09:16):
a hand through my hair. This is a lot, guys,
Sabrina quickly added, of course, take your time. We're not
trying to pressure you. We just can't keep dancing around it.
We'd rather it be someone we know and love, not
some random clinic donor. And with the secrecy you're used
to dealing with right now, we thought you might get it.

(01:09:38):
After a tense few minutes of small talk, I excused myself.
The night air outside felt cold as I walked to
my car, mind buzzing with questions. I didn't judge them.
Love can make people do extraordinary things, but was I
ready to be part of that, to physically get involved
with Sabrina. Back home, I made coffee I didn't plan

(01:10:01):
to drink, just so I could hold something warm while
pacing the kitchen. My life had become a twisted labyrinth.
Lauren was gone with Adam, I was orchestrating financial sabotage,
and now Dylan and Sabrina wanted me to help them
start a family. Weirdly, part of me felt a flicker
of ego. Lauren had refused me physically for months, acting

(01:10:23):
like we were in.

Speaker 2 (01:10:24):
A rough patch.

Speaker 1 (01:10:25):
If I agreed to Sabrina's request, it would be an
intimacy I'd been missing with the full blessing of her husband.
Did that make me as bad as Lauren though? Or
was this different because it wasn't secret or manipulative. I
slumped into a chair, laptop open, mine, too scattered to focus,
my phone pinged a text from Sabrina. Sabrina, I'm sorry

(01:10:47):
if we shocked you. We love you, Ethan, take all
the time you need, okay. I stared at the screen,
feeling something I hadn't felt in a while, warmth. They
genuinely cared about me. I. I typed back a thanks
and set the phone aside. Over the next hour, I
tried imagining what it'd be like to be physically close

(01:11:07):
with Sabrina. She was a beautiful woman, smart, kind, the
polar opposite of what Lauren had become. The guilt creeping
up was overshadowed by curiosity and a hint of excitement. Eventually,
I forced myself to bed replaying Dylan's face. He looked
vulnerable yet determined, like he was willing to do anything

(01:11:28):
to make his wife happy, and Sabrina's eyes had glistened
with a mix of hope and embarrassment. Was I seriously
considering this? I couldn't decide not yet, but I couldn't
dismiss the idea either. In the weirdest way possible, it
felt like fate was nudging me down a new path,
one that Lauren's betrayal had accidentally opened up. I spent

(01:11:51):
the next few days trying to distract myself with my
revenge plans against Lauren. Each morning, i'd check the credit
card statements to see see if she'd noticed the absurd
spending so far.

Speaker 2 (01:12:03):
Nothing.

Speaker 1 (01:12:04):
She either didn't look or didn't care. Maybe she was
confident Adam would foot the bills, or maybe she thought
I was.

Speaker 2 (01:12:11):
The one paying them.

Speaker 1 (01:12:13):
Either way, the ruse was holding up, but beneath my scheming,
Sabrina's proposition gnawed at me. I tried to avoid contact
with Dylan and Sabrina, worried I'd blurt out something. On Thursday, though,
Sabaurena texted me an invitation to hang out at their
place again, just a casual evening. I hesitated, but found

(01:12:33):
myself driving there around seven, heart racing at the possibilities.
Dylan greeted Mia at the door, wearing a grin that
felt a little forced. Hey man, come on in. Inside
the living room was warm, dimly lit by a floor lamp.
Sabrina was on the couch, a glass of wine in
her hand. She patted the cushion beside her, and I

(01:12:55):
sat down. At first, we made small talk, some local news,
Dylan's job stressed, Sabrina's new hobby of painting abstract landscapes.
Then the conversation drifted to the real issue. How are
you feeling about what we asked? Sabareena ventured, eyes flicking
between Dylan and me. I set my jaw, deciding to

(01:13:16):
be honest. I'm torn. Part of methinks it's insane. Another
part I paused, heat creeping up my neck. Another part
is well intrigued. Dylan exhaled like he'd been holding his breath.
We know it's complicated. We just wanted to let you
know we're serious, though we've talked every night since we

(01:13:38):
told you. Sabrina placed her wine glass on the coffee table.
We can figure out details if you say yes, and
if you say no. We understand no pressure. The couch
felt suddenly smaller as she inched closer, laying a hand
on my knee. I glanced at Dylan, expecting anger or jealousy,
but his face was calm, if tense. Whirl of anticipation

(01:14:01):
an anxiety rushed through me. I guess I'm saying yes.
I finally managed my voice, almost a whisper. But how
exactly does this work? Sabrina's eyes lit up, relief mingling
with excitement. Dylan cleared his throat. We're not talking about labs.
Or anything clinical, he explained softly. We'd prefer it be natural,

(01:14:22):
you know, real intimacy. His voice caught on that last word,
and for a second I saw how painful it was
for him to admit he couldn't be the one to
do this. Are you sure, i asked, fixing him with
a serious look. I mean, really sure, He nodded. Absolutely.
We want a child and we want to know the father.

(01:14:44):
You're the only one we trust. And well, Saborina's been
missing intimacy too. She placed a trembling hand over mine.
We don't have to do anything tonight if you're not ready,
but I need you to know I want this ethan,
we both do. My heart pounded so loud it felt
like a drum in my ears. It flashed across my

(01:15:06):
mind that Lauren might be lying in Adam's bed at
this exact moment, all while I was about to cross
a line of my own. But unlike Lauren's secret betrayal,
this was consensual, open. I found myself leaning in towards Sabrina,
our face's inches apart. Then Dylan squeezed my shoulder. Just remember,
if you feel uncomfortable at any point, say so. He murmured,

(01:15:30):
we'll figure it out. I swallowed hard, nodding. Sabrina's breath
was warm on my cheek. She whispered my name, and
in that moment, the rest of the world seemed to
fall away. I kissed her gently at first, feeling her
respond with quiet urgency. We broke apart and she blushed deeply,
looking at Dylan, who gave a small, pained smile. I'll

(01:15:52):
step out for a bit, he said, voice thick. Sabrina,
call me if you need me.

Speaker 2 (01:15:58):
Okay.

Speaker 1 (01:15:58):
She nodded, and Dila and disappeared down the hallway. A
strange wave of guilt and liberations warmed me. This was
definitely not how I'd pictured my life turning out, but
it felt oddly comforting to be wanted again after so
many months of Lauren's rejection. Sabrina and I ended up
in a tender embrace, nothing too rushed. We talked, carassed,

(01:16:21):
tested the waters. It wasn't a full consummation that night,
both of us were too nervous, but there was enough
heat to make my head spin, and the electricity between
us was undeniable. She seemed embarrassed afterward, cheeks flushed, her
hand resting on my chest, like she was afraid i'd vanish.
You're ok, she asked, softly, searching my eyes. I nodded,

(01:16:45):
brushing back a strand of her hair. Yeah, it's new,
but I'm okay. When Dylan re entered, he looked relieved,
and I could sense the gratitude in his expression. Yet
there was also tension behind his eyes, a man grappling
with them his own limitations and the reality of another
man holding his wife. I left soon after, heart pounding

(01:17:07):
all the way home. It wasn't purely lust or pity
that pushed me to accept Sabreena's request. It was something deeper,
a connection with people who genuinely cared about me, who
wanted me in their lives for more than just a
fleeting moment. It felt like a direct contrast to Lauren's deception.
Later that night, lying in bed, I couldn't shake the

(01:17:28):
emotional weight of it all. I wasn't entirely sure of
what I was doing was right, but for the first
time since Lauren walked out, I felt a spark of
contentment and a sense that I wasn't just upon in
someone else's game. I had power too. Saturday afternoon found
me shuffling through stacks of financial paperwork at my kitchen table,

(01:17:49):
the late fall sunlight slanting through the blinds. The lock
box where I kept the detective's evidence. Photographs of Lauren
and Adam sat on a chair next to me, A
constant reminder of how far I'd come in my quiet war.
John Parker, my private detective, had told me he'd keep
an ear to the ground in case Lorn ramped up
her spending or made legal moves. So far, she hadn't

(01:18:13):
filed for divorce or done anything official, which puzzled me.
Maybe she wanted to keep me on hold as a
backup plan. The idea fueled my resolve. I refused to
be her safety net. My phone buzzed. It was Parker,
his voice crackling on the line. Just an update, nothing huge,

(01:18:33):
But I heard from a contact at your wife's office.
She hasn't changed her last name or indicated any intent
to do so, and no sign she's planning to move away.
Looks like she's comfortable playing house with Adam in that
condo for now. I thanked him ending the call. Her
complacency was my advantage if she didn't suspect I was

(01:18:54):
systematically maxing out her credit lines, draining the joint accounts,
and preparing for a massive financial blow. That was all
the better. I glanced at the open file labeled home
equity line of credit. I discovered that Lauren's parents old house,
left to her years ago, was an asset we'd used
as collateral when we did some renovations. She was the

(01:19:15):
primary name on it, but I was still technically a callsigner.
If I timed it right, I could draw on that
line of credit. Before Lauren realized what I was doing.
The notion sparked a grim smile. She'd left me, but
her house was about to fund my retribution. My plan
was coming together like a jigsaw puzzle. Systematically max out

(01:19:36):
the credit cards in Lauren's name or joint accounts, quietly
pull funds from the home equity line, leaving her stuck
with the debt. Transfer money into my newly open personal account.
Keep the Mexico fishing trip rumor alive so people believed
I might vanish for a bit. Once everything was set,
I'd served divorce papers citing adultery, backed by Parker's evidence.

(01:19:59):
She he'd have no chance to wiggle out unscathed. My
heart pounded at the sheer audacity of it all. I
remembered the timid, confused husband i'd been, the Deloren left,
too stunned to fight. This version of me felt colder,
more calculating, yet also stronger. Still, a flicker of doubt nagged,
what if this changed me in ways I couldn't undo.

(01:20:22):
Just then my door bell rang. I jumped hard in
my throat. When I opened the door, I saw a
new face, A young delivery guy holding a large cardboard
box ethan carter. He asked, that's me, I said, signing
the handheld device. The label on the box read Dell Computers,
another expensive piece of tech I'd ordered under the joint account.

(01:20:46):
I thanked the delivery guy and hauled the box inside,
stacking it among the others in the spare room. My
arsenal of purchases kept growing. I wondered if Floren had
even glanced at her credit card statement. Maybe she was
too busy playing house with Adam, or maybe she assumed
I was footing the bills as usual. Either way, she

(01:21:08):
was in for a brutal awakening. By evening, I needed
fresh air. I locked up the house, double checking the
boxes were out of sight. And drove to a nearby park.
The autumn breeze rustled through the trees, scattering red and
gold leaves on the paved walking trails. Families laughed, and
joggers passed by, normal life carrying on around me. As

(01:21:30):
I walked, my phone buzzed again, this time from Sabrina.
She mentioned Dylan had gun to a friend's place and
invited me over. I hesitated, not sure if I was
ready for another intense encounter, but curiosity and something else,
maybe longing, propelled me to say yes. I hopped back
in my car and drove across town. She greeted me

(01:21:52):
at the door with a soft smile. Hey, she said, quietly,
ushering me inside. The apartment was warm, a gentle lamp
glow bathing the living room, and subdued light. Music played
low in the background a local indie station. We sat
on her couch, sipping tea, not really sure how to
broach the topic of our budding arrangement. Eventually, Sabrina touched

(01:22:15):
my arm. I want you to know that Dylan and
I have no regrets about inviting you into this, but
I do worry about your own emotions. I gave a
small laugh, that's a fair concern. My life's complicated right now.
She nodded, her eyes searching mine. Just be honest with me.
If this ever feels wrong or like it's hurting you

(01:22:37):
more than helping, tell me. I squeezed her hand.

Speaker 2 (01:22:40):
I will.

Speaker 1 (01:22:41):
That night, we ended up talking for hours about everything
from our childhoods to my favorite baseball team, from the
heartbreak of Lauren's betrayal to Sabrina's fear of never becoming
a mother. Our closeness felt raw and natural, no secrets,
no deception, at least not between us. When I fin
finally left, I stood outside in a chilly air, letting

(01:23:03):
the swirl of city lights wash over me. My revenge
plan was fully in motion, but my heart felt oddly light.
Maybe it was because, for once I wasn't the clueless victim.
I was controlling my destiny financially, emotionally, even physically. Still,
a certain tension loomed. I knew that as I finalized

(01:23:23):
these financial moves, especially drawing on the house's equity, I'd
be dancing close to the fire. One misstep and Louren
could catch on, or worse, she and Adam might retaliate
in a way I wasn't prepared for, but that was
a risk I was willing to take back home. I
reviewed the documents once more, making sure the timing lined up,

(01:23:44):
request the funds, wait for them to clear, then vanished
them into my personal account. The final peace would be
to serve Lauren the divorce papers, ideally at the worst
possible moment for her. The image of her stunned face
brought me a grim satisfaction. I carefully locked away the
papers in my new fireproof box, my mind humming with possibilities.

(01:24:06):
By the time I crawled into bed, I felt like
I was standing on the edge of a cliff, nervous
but strangely thrilled. I didn't know how it would all
play out, but I was certain of one thing. Lauren
had no idea the storm I was about to unleash.
Saturday morning, I woke up before dawn. My phone's alarm
jolted me from a restless sleep to many swirling thoughts

(01:24:29):
about what I intended to do that day. For a
long moment, I lay in bed, gazing at the faint
outlines of the boxes I'd piled in the corner, all
purchased under Lauren's name. The hush of early morning made
everything feel heavier, as if I were on the edge
of something irreversible. By eight zero zero, I was sitting
in my lawyer's cramped office, a converted Victorian home near downtown.

(01:24:53):
The place smelled of stale coffee and old books. My attorney,
Rebecca Hanson, tapped her pen against it stack of papers.
I'd chosen her carefully. She wasn't flashy, but she had
a reputation for thoroughness and absolute discretion, so Ethan, she said,
scanning the documents, you're sighting adultery. Correct, you have proof?

(01:25:15):
I nodded, sliding a Manila folder across the desk. Affidavits
and photos from my private investigator, I explained, voice hollow,
time stamped, and everything. She flipped through the photographs John
Parker had provided lorn entering Adam's condo, arms looped around
his waist. In one image, they were walking side by side,

(01:25:38):
smiling in a way that made my stomach twist with
lingering bitterness. Hanson pursed her lips, but offered no judgment,
just quiet efficiency. This is solid, she concluded. Weaken file
for divorce on grounds of adultery.

Speaker 2 (01:25:52):
No problem.

Speaker 1 (01:25:53):
My heart thudded at the finality of those words. Despite everything,
a small part of me, Rema remembered the day I
married Lauren. How sure I was we'd grow old together.
Now I was weaponizing proof of her affair to blow
up her life. I swallowed hard. She started this, I
reminded myself. Hanson laid out the plan. She would prepare

(01:26:16):
the summons and have Lauren served at a strategic moment.
I'd requested a specific window of time so I could
finalize some last minute financial moves. Just let me know when,
she said, I'll instruct the process server. The next step
involved lulling Lauren into dropping her guard, letting her believe
I was too heartbroken or conflicted to go through with

(01:26:38):
a divorce. I thanked Hanson, signed the retainer check, and
left in the parking lot. I looked up at the
cloud choked sky. Rain threatened to fall at any moment,
and it suited my mood. That evening, I mustered the
nerve to call Lauren. It was the first time I'd
voluntarily reached out to her in weeks. She picked up
on the third ring, her voice guarded ethan, why are

(01:27:02):
you calling? I forced a weary sigh. Look Lauren I'm
tired of this stalemate.

Speaker 2 (01:27:07):
We should talk.

Speaker 1 (01:27:09):
I kept my tone unsure, as if I were the
one second guessing everything. Maybe we can meet for dinner tomorrow,
clear the air a pause on her end. Then attent
to vouquet, where I named a quiet Italian restaurant we
used to like. It wasn't fancy, small place with checkered tablecloths,
a handful of booths. She agreed, and we set a time.

(01:27:31):
I hung up, my heart pounding. Part of me almost
felt guilty for the deception, but I pushed that aside,
focusing on the bigger picture. I needed her complacent so
my bank transfers and credit card shenanigans could finish processing.
Once she believed I was having second thoughts, she'd lower
her defenses. Then I'd strike. The next day, I arrived

(01:27:55):
at the restaurant fifteen minutes early to secure a booth
in the corner. I owe ordered a soda, my stomach churning.
When Lauren walked in, my pulse spiked. She looked different,
hair trimmed and styled, wearing new clothes. I suspected Adam
might have helped her pick out. A pang of anger flared,
but I swallowed it down. She slid into the booth

(01:28:17):
opposite me, avoiding eye contact. At first, you look well,
she said softly, though her tone was ambiguous. I forced
a rueful half smile, trying to keep it together. I replied,
how about you? She hesitated, I've been figuring things out.
I'm staying with a friend. She didn't mention Adam outright,

(01:28:38):
which almost made me laugh. Why the secrecy now, after everything?
But I just nodded, projecting an air of tentative sadness. Listen,
I began, hands clasped on the table about the separation.
Maybe we rushed it. I don't know. I mean, we
invested ten years in this marriage. Should we just throw

(01:29:00):
it away? I watched her expression flicker surprise, then maybe
a hint of relief. She reached for my hand, but stopped,
just shy Ethan. I don't want you to be unhappy,
she said, glancing at me with an odd mixture of
guilt and defensiveness. I'm still sorting out what I want too.

(01:29:20):
We talked for nearly an hour, ordering this single plate
of lasagna to split. She made vague excuses about needing
time to figure herself out, and I feigned confusion about
whether I could trust her again.

Speaker 2 (01:29:32):
All the while I.

Speaker 1 (01:29:33):
Carefully avoided direct accusations about Adam or the finances. My
phone buzzed a few times in my pocket, likely notifications
from my bank confirming that more transactions had cleared, but
I didn't check. By dessert, i'd sold her the performance
the uncertain husband who wasn't sure if divorce was the
right path. She left with a faint glimmer in her eyes,

(01:29:57):
as though she believed I might let her come back
on her own terms. I paid the bill, stepping out
into the night air, feeling oddly hollow, even though I
was orchestrating this entire charade. Part of me loathe the
manipulative dance, but I reminded myself Lauren had manipulated me first.
This was payback back home. I confirmed the notifications on

(01:30:19):
my phone. The credit line on Lauren's parents house had
just hit my personal account, thousands of dollars wire transferred.
It was official, my final piece of the puzzle. I
messaged Hansen, all set file the papers, have them serve soon.
She replied with a simple thumbs up emoji, and that

(01:30:39):
was that. Late that night, I stared at the ceiling
in my dark bedroom. Tomorrow, i'd watch the walls of
Lauren's new life begin to crumble. A small, grim smile
tugged at my lips. The legal strike was in motion,
and for the first time, I felt truly in control.
The day after I gave my lawyer the green light,

(01:31:00):
I woke up to gray skies and a chill in
the air. Fitting I thought for what was about to unfold.

Speaker 2 (01:31:06):
I went to.

Speaker 1 (01:31:06):
Work as usual, acting as if nothing significant was happening.
By now, I'd perfected the art of looking busy at
my desk while quietly planning the next steps of my revenge.
Around noon, I received an unexpected phone call on my cell.
The number was unfamiliar, local, though. My gut churned as
I picked up. A tense male voice barked Ethan Carter. Yes,

(01:31:30):
who is this? It's Ryan Lopees. I'm a friend of
Adam King, he paused, exhaling sharply. Look, man, I don't
want any trouble, but I need to talk to you.
Do you know where Adam is? My pulse skipped. I
haven't spoken to Adam, I replied, truthfully. I'd never actually
conversed with him, never had reason to Lopus let out

(01:31:53):
a string of curses. He didn't show up at a
meeting this morning. You two got some beef. He said
something about you, but wouldn't say more. A prickle of
caution hit me. Did Adam suspect my involvement in something
I knew? I hadn't confronted him directly, but rumors might
have reached him that I was Lauren's husband and that

(01:32:13):
I knew about their affair. I have no idea where
he is, I repeated, calmly. And I don't know you, sir,
I'm at work.

Speaker 2 (01:32:22):
I can't help you.

Speaker 1 (01:32:23):
Lopez grumbled under his breath, then hung up without a goodbye.
I set my phone down slowly, a creeping sense of anticipation,
nodding my stomach. Something was off. Was Adam missing or
just late? Less than an hour later, a frantic text
from Dylan appeared.

Speaker 2 (01:32:40):
Dude.

Speaker 1 (01:32:41):
Words going around that Adam got jumped last night. He's
in the hospital, battered up, real bad. I read the
message three times, my heart pounding. The plan for a
downfall was in motion, though in truth, I'd never arranged
a direct hit or anything so blatant. I'd only set
certain forces in motion. Was it a coincidence or something

(01:33:03):
I passively allowed. I quickly called Dylan, stepping outside the
office building to avoid eavesdroppers.

Speaker 2 (01:33:10):
What do you know?

Speaker 1 (01:33:11):
Dylan sounded rattled. Not much, Sabrina heard from a co
worker of Lauren's. Adam was found in a parking garage,
beaten almost to a pulp, broke limbs. They said he's
in surgery or something. Lauren's apparently been told. I'm guessing
she's on her way to the hospital. My mind, world,
any idea?

Speaker 2 (01:33:32):
Who did it? No clue.

Speaker 1 (01:33:34):
People are speculating it might have been random muggers, or
maybe shady business deals Adam was involved in.

Speaker 2 (01:33:41):
We don't know.

Speaker 1 (01:33:42):
Dylan hesitated, Ethan, You okay, man, this is intense. I
clenched my jaw, feigning a calm. I didn't fully feel.
I'm fine. This has nothing to do with me, at
least not directly, though I certainly didn't intend to shed
any tears for Adam. Thanks for letting me know. Hanging up,
I stared at the cloudy skyline, tension coiled in my chest.

(01:34:06):
I'd never instructed anyone to harm Adam physically. My plan
had always been about financial ruin and humiliating Lauren. But
I hadn't exactly been subtle in letting certain rumors slip,
like how Adam had crossed a line, how he needed
a lesson. Maybe some unscrupulous acquaintances took it upon themselves
to handle things, or maybe Adam's arrogance made him enemies

(01:34:30):
outside my orbit. Regardless, the end result was the same.
Adam King was down, and it would send shockwaves through
Lauren's world. I spent the rest of the day pretending
to work. My phone occasionally buzzed with updates from Dylan
or short messages from acquaintances. Did you hear about Adam King?

Speaker 2 (01:34:48):
Terrible?

Speaker 1 (01:34:49):
I played dumb or offered vague replies. Inside, I felt
a cold, measured satisfaction. I didn't condone violence, but I
couldn't deny the grim sense of just By the time
I left the office, drizzle was falling, slicking the sidewalks.
On the drive home, I considered passing by the hospital
just to witness the aftermath, but that felt too risky. Instead,

(01:35:13):
I headed to my house, locked the door, and sank
onto the couch. My living room, once a cozy space
for Lauren and me, now felt like the command's center
of a war. I was determined to win. Curiosity nagged,
so I scrolled social media. There were hushed posts among
Adam's coworkers about the tragedy and an assault. A few

(01:35:35):
mentioned Lauren's name, speculating if she'd stay by his side,
she likely would. I guessed her new man was lying
in a hospital bed, a sudden roll reversal from their
smug affair. I recalled John Parker's words, you can't prove
a negative. Even if someone suspected I had something to
do with Adam's beating, there'd be no direct link. I'd

(01:35:57):
built an alibi just in case. A few well placed
remarks about playing poker with friends, text messages time stamped
from that night. In reality, I'd been at home, reading
and minding my own business. No one could pin the
assault on me. Late in the evening, I paced the
kitchen phone in hand. Should I call Lauren ask if

(01:36:19):
she's okay? That would be the normal ex husband move, right,
But I resisted she'd see through any fake concern. It
was better to let her sit in her own termoil. Eventually,
the tension in my muscles eased a bit. Adam King's
downfall was a sign that my plan, fueled by resentment
and cunning, was reaching its crescendo. All that remained was

(01:36:41):
the final humiliating twist, serving Lauren with the divorce papers.
At the absolute worst moment, I turned off the lights
and let darkness cloak the house.

Speaker 2 (01:36:52):
The faint patter of.

Speaker 1 (01:36:53):
Rain on the windows lulled me into a reflective calm.
So many small choices had led to this world I
wouldn't have recognized a few months ago. As I drifted off,
a single thought repeated in my mind, this is only
the beginning of her reckoning. I woke the next morning
to a flurry of texts from Dylan and Sabrina. Dylan

(01:37:15):
Laurence at City General with Adam. She's been there all night, Sabrina.
Word is Adam's condition is serious. Laurence crying in the
waiting room. Part of me felt a flicker of pity
for her, remembering the times I'd seen her cry about
lesser troubles, like an argument at work or a lost
wedding ring. Now she was stuck watching her lover suffer

(01:37:38):
injuries he might never fully recover from. But that pity
vanished as I recalled her betrayal.

Speaker 2 (01:37:44):
She chose this.

Speaker 1 (01:37:45):
Before I could respond, my phone rang. It was Rebecca Hanson,
my lawyer, mourning ethan. I have a process server ready
to go, she announced, in her brisk, efficient manner. Are
you still wanting Lauren served to day? My pulse ticked up, yes,
I said, voice firm. The plan was to hit her

(01:38:06):
at her lowest. If that made me a villain, so
be it. She's at City General Hospital, right, that's what
you mentioned yesterday. My server can head there within the hour.
I paced the living room, phone pressed to my ear.
Make sure it's public enough that she can't deny it happened,
I added, and call me once it's done. Hanson hung up,

(01:38:28):
and I sank onto my sofa. A swirl of anticipation
and dread turned in my gut. This was it, the
final nail in the coffin of our marriage, till I
forced myself to eat a quick breakfast, glancing at the
clock every few minutes. Less than two hours later, my
phone vibrated. Hanson's name flashed on the screen. I snatched

(01:38:49):
it up immediately. Is it done, I asked, by blessing HULLO, Yes,
she replied. My process server found her in a hospital.
Corridor talking to a nurse. He handed her the divorce papers,
citing adultery. She tried to refuse at first, but he
just dropped the envelope at her feet and said, you've

(01:39:10):
been served. I closed my eyes, picturing the scene Lauren
reeling from Adam's injuries, confronted by a stoic legal courier
and the accusing words infidelity printed on official documents in
a hospital corridor. No less strangers all around, nurses, maybe
other patients. The humiliation must have been crushing, Hanson continued calmly.

(01:39:33):
She looked pretty shaken. According to my server, I expect
you'll hear from her or her own attorney soon enough.
Thank you, I murmured, I appreciate your promptness. We ended
the call, and I realized my hands were trembling. The
moment I'd anticipated for so long had arrived, and the
surge of TRIUMPHIDE expected felt early hollow. A flicker of

(01:39:55):
guilt tubbed at me, but I reminded myself of the
heart break into such a lorn had caused.

Speaker 2 (01:40:01):
She'd earned this.

Speaker 1 (01:40:02):
Throughout the rest of the day, I fielded calls and
texts from acquaintances. Words spread quickly people were buzzing about
how Lauren got served with divorce papers at the hospital,
of all places. A few mutual friends texted me variations
of doode, that was cold or what were you thinking?
Others simply wrote I'm so sorry, Ethan, this must be awful.

(01:40:25):
What they didn't know was that it had all been
part of my plan to serve her at the height
of her vulnerability, ensuring maximum public shock. I didn't bother
justifying myself to anyone. Later, Dylan texted, Dylan, Lauren's meltdown
is epic. She's screaming at staff. Everyone's whispering about the
adultery claim. She's humiliated. My chest tightened, treating that the

(01:40:50):
humiliation was exactly what I'd wanted, some measure of the
pain I'd endured. Yet seeing it in plain words unsettled me.
I tried to shake off these, reminding myself this was justice.
I spent the evening at home, sipping a beer and
flipping mindlessly through TV channels. My phone occasionally lit with
new messages. One from Maggie at work, who'd heard rumors,

(01:41:14):
asked if I was okay, Another from Sabrina simply stating,
take a breath. We're here for you. I appreciated the concern,
but I was in no mood to talk. Around nine,
my phone rang again, Lauren's number. My stomach lurched, but
I let it go to voicemail, bracing for an angry message.

(01:41:34):
Sure Enough, a minute later, the notification popped up. I
pressed play, hearing her voice roar with fury. Ethan, she hissed,
you think you're so clever serving me in public. You
want to drag me through the mud. Fine, but this
was low even for you. Adam might not walk right again,
and you're off living your life celebrating, you, bastard.

Speaker 2 (01:41:57):
She hung up.

Speaker 1 (01:41:58):
My finger hovered over the de button, but I saved
the voicemail, a souvenir of her rage, perhaps a reminder
of how far whe'd fallen. I tried to imagine her face,
tears hot in her eyes, the humiliation swirling around her
like a storm, nurses, orderlies, visitors, everyone witnessing her marital disgrace.

(01:42:19):
Part of me felt a tremor of regret, but the deeper,
angrier part reveled in it. At midnight, I lay in bed,
wide awake. I replayed her words, dissecting her tone. She
assumed I celebrated Adam's beating. She had no proof, though,
just suspicion. My alibi was erdight, and I'd made sure
my name never linked to the assault that left her

(01:42:41):
with the divorce papers as the only tangible attack that
was enough for now. Eventually, the adrenaline faded, and I
drifted into a fitful sleep, haunted by an odd mixture
of triumph and grief. Our marriage was truly dead, severed
in a brutally public scene.

Speaker 2 (01:42:58):
My plan had.

Speaker 1 (01:42:59):
Reached its apex. Lauren was served, Adam lay injured, and
I'd kept my hands clean. But as the darkness closed in,
I couldn't help wondering how much of my old self
I'd sacrificed for this moment. The next morning, I sipped
coffee at my kitchen table, scrolling through social media in
a daze. My timeline was flooded with vague references to

(01:43:21):
shocking news at City General Hospital. People who knew Lauren
in passing posted supportive notes, stay strong, You'll get through this.
Others gossiped speculating on the rumored affair. Between SIPs of coffee,
I felt a growing sense of disconnect. This was exactly
what I'd orchestrated a public spectacle painting Lauren as the

(01:43:42):
adulterous wife, humiliated at the worst possible time, and yet
the victory tasted strangely bitter. Around mid morning, my phone
rang John Parker, the private detective, greeted me Ethan. He said, calmly,
I heard the news, So you went through with the
divorce filing publicly, word travels fast. I murmured, pacing the

(01:44:04):
living room. Yes, that part's handled. I'll finalize our arrangement.
Then Parker said, unless you need me to do more digging,
I hesitated. My original plan was for Parker to keep
tabs on Lauren's financial moves or any attempt she might
make to retaliate, But in the short term I doubted
she had the mental bandwidth to go after me. Let's

(01:44:27):
pause for now. I decided, I'll reach out if something changes.
We said our goodbyes. After I hung up, I stood
by the window watching and neighbor mow his lawn.

Speaker 2 (01:44:38):
The hum of the lawnm'er felt.

Speaker 1 (01:44:40):
Oddly soothing, a reminder that life goes on in the
midst of chaos. Meanwhile, in a hospital somewhere, Lauren was
reeling from my legal ambush and Adam lay recovering from
severe injuries. My plan had indeed caused a ripple effect.
By early afternoon, Dylan dropped by unannounced. I open open
the door to see him standing there with a six

(01:45:02):
pack of beer in hand, looking grim. Mind if I
come in? I stepped aside, motioning him to the couch.
He popped open two cans, handing me one. We clinked
them in a silent, joyless toast. How bad is it,
I asked, sinking into the armchair Dylan's side, raking a
hand through his hair. Bad word is Adam's got multiple fractures,

(01:45:26):
might be laid up for months. Some of his friend's
suspect foul play. But no one's pointing fingers at you yet.
Lawrence meltdown at the hospital was huge. People felt sorry
for her at first, but then they heard about the
divorce papers. It's messy. I took a swig of beer.
Messy suits me fine, I said quietly. He studied me,

(01:45:49):
brow furrowed. You got your revenge, e, but you don't
look relieved. I shrugged. Relief isn't the word? More like
I did what needed to be done. My gaze drifted
to the boxes piled in the spare room, the physical
evidence of my financial sabotage, another secret step in ensuring
Loren's downfall. Dylan followed my glance, then looked back at me.

(01:46:13):
You realize she'll come at you eventually. Right, maybe not now,
but once she regains her footing. I'm counting on it,
I muttered, swirling the beer in its can. By then
she'll have no ground left to stand on. For a moment,
neither of us spoke, the tension tangible. Finally, Dylan cleared
his throat. Sabrina wants you to know she's worried about you,

(01:46:37):
he said, softly. We both are. You've changed, man. My
heart twisted, remembering how Sabrina had offered me comfort and
something more. I can't be the person I was, I replied,
voice horse, not after everything she did, that's gone. Dylan nodded,
eyes flicking around the room. All right, I won't lecture you.

(01:46:59):
Just don't lose yourself in this. He left soon after,
leaving me to the oppressive silence of the house. I
spent the rest of the day tidying up, storing yet
more items in the garage, and carefully combing through financial
statements online. The credit card bills were nearing their limit,
many in just Lauren's name, thanks to my behind the

(01:47:21):
scenes manipulations. I imagined how she'd react when she finally
noticed the charges, one blow after another. That was the strategy.
By evening, I couldn't ignore the knot of emotions coiling
in my chest. As I prepared a late dinner, just
a simple frozen pizza. I replayed the last few days
in my mind, Adam's crippling assault, the hospital meltdown, the

(01:47:43):
divorce papers served in a crowd of onlookers. I'd set
these dominoes in motion, and I couldn't pretend innocence. The
question nagging me was whether the satisfaction of retribution outweighed
the haunting sense eve of moral compromise. After dinner, I
wanted entered into the spare room, where I stored all
my new purchases, high end lap hops, cameras, tablets, random electronics.

(01:48:07):
Half of them I didn't even need. They were trophies,
a silent testament to Lauren's credit line, soon to become
crippling debt. The sight of it all was both gratifying
and unnerving. My phone buzzed a single text from Lauren,
you won't get away with this. I stared at the words,
my stomach tensing. If she knew about the credit card

(01:48:29):
charges yet, it would only add to her fury. More likely,
she referred to the divorce ambush and Adam's beating. Either way,
I took a breath, typed no reply, and deleted the message.
Midnight found me sitting by the window, the darkness outside
reflecting my own tangled state. The immediate fallout had arrived.

(01:48:49):
Lauren publicly humiliated, Adam severely injured, rumors swirling, and in
my quiet house, I felt a strange calm. This was
what I wanted, wasn't it to make them pay? A
sliver of sadness cut through the numbness, the kind that
comes when you realize how much you've changed, how the
love that once existed is irretrievably lost. But I gripped

(01:49:13):
that sorrow tightly and twisted it into resolve.

Speaker 2 (01:49:16):
No backing down.

Speaker 1 (01:49:17):
Now there was no return to the clueless husband i'd
been before. Exhaling, I locked up the house, ensuring every
door was bolted. Outside, the wind gusted, rustling the trees.
The stage was set for whatever came next. Lauren's rage,
potential legal battles, or further collapse. For now, I'd done
my part. I let the darkness envelop me, drifting into

(01:49:40):
a restless sleep with the knowledge that I had delivered
my most devastating blows. I spotted Lauren in the grocery
store parking lot for the first time since she'd been
served with the divorce papers. It was a chance encounter,
completely unexpected. She was wearing an old coat, looking thinner
than I remembered. Even from a distance, I could see

(01:50:01):
the tension in her posture. A pang of something, maybe guilt,
maybe pity, stabbed at my chest. But I stayed out
of sight behind a row of su v's, watching her
slam her trunk shut with a frustrated huff. That same morning,
I'd heard the news Lauren filed for bankruptcy. Word had
slipped through mutual acquaintances who still kept tabs on her.

(01:50:24):
In a matter of weeks, she'd racked up bills she
couldn't pay. My hidden maneuvers, combined with her own and attentiveness,
had finally come due. The house, once hers from her parents,
was now foreclosed. Her car was up for sale. She'd
been forced to move in with a cousin who lived
two towns over. It was everything I'd predicted would happen,

(01:50:47):
but seeing it unfold in real time gave me an
odd sense of discomfort. Later that afternoon, I met Dylan
for a quick coffee at a small cafe near his office.
He listened as I explained the scene I'd witness in
the grocery store. Lot. Dude, it's rough, he said, fiddling
with a cardboard sleeve on his Lotte. Word around town

(01:51:08):
is that Lauren's also on thin ice at work. The
rumor about her affair with Adam King was enough for
management to quietly push her out. I leaned back in
the chair, swirling my coffee. So she's done, then no job,
he nodded. From what Sabrina heard, Lauren was given a
so called voluntary resignation option, something about negative pr for

(01:51:30):
the firm. She took it, probably to avoid being outright fired.
A flicker of satisfaction wrestled with the uneasy knot in
my gut. The plan had always been to dismantle her life, finances, reputation, security.
Mission accomplished, Yet I couldn't ignore the faint taste of
ash in my mouth an after taste of regret or compassion.

(01:51:53):
She had it coming, I muttered, trying to convince myself.
Dylan gave a slow nod, but his eyes reflect concern.
Just be careful. Sometimes when people hit rock bottom, they
lash out in unpredictable ways. Keep your guard up, I shrugged,
ignoring the worry in his voice. I'm on stable ground,

(01:52:13):
I said firmly, and I was. My secret bank account
was flush with the funds i'd siphoned, and the credit
card statements remained in Lauren's name or in joint accounts.
I'd already drained.

Speaker 2 (01:52:25):
There wasn't much she.

Speaker 1 (01:52:26):
Could do to bounce back, especially now. As we left
the cafe, Dylan paused on the sidewalk. Listen, there's something else.
He hesitated, which wasn't like him. Sabrina wants to have
you over for dinner again this weekend. She's been concerned
about you, and I think she could use some support too.
I arched an eyebrow support for what. Dylan forced a

(01:52:50):
neutral expression. She's just dealing with stuff, some tension at work,
plus all the stress about your situation. He waved it off.
Maybe we can talk more Saturday, ye, I nodded, though
a sliver of suspicion lingered. Something about the way Dylan
dodged the question felt off, but I didn't push. We

(01:53:11):
parted ways, and I tried to focus on the wave
of relief that Lauren was no longer a threat to
my financial stability. Her bankruptcy and forced resignation basically severed
any hope she had of retaliating. Now if she tried
to drag me to court, she'd have no money for
legal fees. That evening, I sat at my kitchen table,

(01:53:32):
flipping through the local newspaper. A small article mentioned Adam
King's prolonged hospital stay, hinting that he'd be moved to
a rehabilitation facility soon. No mention of Lauren by name,
but I wondered if she still hovered at his bedside,
or if fair relationship had soured under the pressure. Another
pang of pity hit me, quickly replaced by the memory

(01:53:53):
of her betrayal. I couldn't shake the sense of finality
creeping in this part. The ruin of Lauren's life was
a senate actually complete. Maybe I should have felt elated,
yet I found myself restless pacing the living room the house,
once echoing with memories of Lauren's laughter, I felt emptier
than ever. Around nine, my phone buzzed with a text

(01:54:15):
from Sabrina. Sabrina, hey dinners at six on Saturday, looking
forward to seeing you, no mention of Dylan's vague warning.
I sighed, typed a quick reply to confirm, and tried
to settle in for the night with a movie on TV.
But the slow burn of discontent refused to fade. Sure,
Lauren was reaping her bitter harvest, but was I any

(01:54:37):
happier for it? Eventually I found myself drifting to sleep
on the couch. A distant part of me wondered if
my thirst for vengeance had overshadowed every other emotion. Lauren
might be out of the picture, but what about the
rest of my life? Could I just move forward without
any regrets? In the silence of the house, I thought

(01:54:57):
back to the grocery store parking lot. Lauren's shoulders hunched,
her face etched in desperation. I wanted this, didn't I.
I closed my eyes, the flicker of gilt sparking again.
A voice in my head whispered, you can't turn back now, Ethan,
whether or not I liked it. I'd crossed a line.
All I could do was keep walking forward. Saturday arrived

(01:55:21):
with a bright autumn sun cutting through the morning fog.
I spent part of the day tidying the house, stacking
up the random boxes of electronics I'd once gleefully charged
to Lauren's credit. They felt more like clutter, now tangible
reminders of how methodically I dismantled her finances. A stray
thought crossed my mind. Should I donate some of this stuff?

(01:55:43):
But I shoved that notion aside. My plan was complete,
no reason to back attle. Come evening, I drove to
Dylan and Sabrina's place, a modest ranch style home with
a neat front yard. Sabrina greeted me at the door,
a warm, if slightly tensem le on her face. The
living room carried the aroma of garlic and roasted vegetables.

(01:56:05):
Comfort food. Hey, she said, beckoning me inside Dylan's finishing
up dinner. How are you? I shrugged, running a hand
through my hair. Surviving you? She gave a vague nod, saying,
my guess. We exchanged small talk while setting the table plates, silverware, napins.

(01:56:26):
Dylan emerged from the kitchen, wearing an apron, beaming at
the pot roast he'd just pulled from the oven. For
a few moments, it felt almost normal, like three friends
having a casual, weakened meal. But I sensed an undercurrent,
especially in the way Sabrina avoided meeting my eyes for
too long. Finally, after we'd eaten our fill, Dylan cleared

(01:56:48):
his throat. I should give you two a minute, he said, abruptly.
Standing from the table. He padded Sabrina's shoulder, then retreated
down the hallway toward his den. Sabrina glanced at me,
nervous energy radiating off her. I leaned forward. Everything okay,
she sighed, pushing her half eaten potatoes aside Ethan, There's

(01:57:09):
something I need to tell you. Her gaze darted momentarily
toward the hallway, as if worried Dylan was eavesdropping. I
found out I'm pregnant. My breath caught. Pregnant, I repeated,
voice thick with emotion. My mind raced back to that night,
my first intimate encounter with Sabrina, The cautious steps we
took after that, the sense of shared guilt and excitement.

(01:57:33):
You're sure, she nodded. Ey's misting over. I've had two
tests done. Dylan knows we were going to tell you together,
but he thought I should tell you first, since you're
the father. Shock, joy, confusion, every emotion collided in my chest.
Saborina's pregnant with my child. In a flash, the echo

(01:57:53):
of Loren's betrayal felt distant, overshadowed by this new reality. Wow,
I managed, swallowing hard. That's huge, she exhaled, relief washing
over her face. I'm glad you're not angry or anything.
We've wanted a baby for so long, but obviously it
can't be Dylan's biologically.

Speaker 2 (01:58:14):
He's He's just.

Speaker 1 (01:58:15):
Thrilled to be a dad in any way possible.

Speaker 2 (01:58:18):
Me too.

Speaker 1 (01:58:20):
Despite the swirl of complicated feelings, a cautious warmth spread
through me. I'm happy, I said, voice trembling. I mean,
it's a lot to process, but yeah, I'm happy. She
reached for my hand.

Speaker 2 (01:58:33):
Thank you.

Speaker 1 (01:58:34):
I know things are messy, you're still dealing with the divorce,
but I wanted you to know, no matter what, this
baby will have two dads who.

Speaker 2 (01:58:43):
Love it, you and Dylan.

Speaker 1 (01:58:45):
Just then, Dylan emerged from the hallway, offering a tentative smile.
I take it, you told him. Sabrina nodded. Dylan patted
my shoulder. Congratulations, man, he said, softly. We're in this together.
I let out a shaky breath, heart pounding. In the
midst of all the bitterness with Lauren, here was something

(01:59:05):
entirely new, hope, a baby, a chance to create something
good out of the wreckage of my marriage. My eyes prevailed,
but I blinked back any tears. Dylan and Sabrina exchanged
a look of gratitude, maybe relief, as though they'd worried
I might reject the situation. Later, after more conversation and
some awkward jokes about baby names, we settled in the

(01:59:28):
living room. Dylan mentioned scheduling a doctor's appointment soon for Sabrina,
and I volunteered to help pay a driver. The tension
that had weighed us all down seemed lighter, now replaced
by a fragile sense of optimism. Still, as the evening
went down, Sabriina and Dylan's warmth couldn't completely erase my worry.
I was legally still married, though that was in the

(01:59:51):
process of unraveling and emotionally embroiled in a twisted revenge story.
Bringing a child into the picture felt surreal. Before I left,
Sabrina embraced me for a long moment. We'll figure it out,
she whispered, all of it. I nodded, hugging her back.
Outside the night ere felt cool against my flushed face.

(02:00:13):
The stars twinkled overhead, and for once I allowed myself
to imagine a future that wasn't entirely defined by anger
or payback. Something told me it wouldn't be simple. But
as I started my car and pulled away, I realized
I was smiling, something I hadn't done genuinely in a while.
The following weeks brought an unexpected emotional shift. My divorce

(02:00:35):
process with Lauren trudged on in the background, her lawyers
occasionally firing angry letters at my attorney, demanding explanations for
missing funds, accusing me of orchestrating the credit blowout. Hansen,
my lawyer, countered with the evidence of Lauren's affair. It
was a stalemate, but I still felt relatively secure in
my position. Then Dilan's health took a turn none of

(02:00:58):
us anticipated. He'd been battling intermittent fatigue for months, something
he'd brushed off as stress or poor diet. But one afternoon,
Sabrina called me in tears, saying Dylan had collapsed at
work and was rushed to the hospital. I arrived at
the eer to find Sabrina pacing the hallway, eyes red rimmed.
She clutched my hand the moment she saw me. They

(02:01:21):
found something, she whispered, voice trembling, A growth on his kidney.
They're running tests. They suspect it's cancer. My stomach clenched. Cancer,
I repeated, as if the word might vanish if I
said it softly enough. She nodded, her cheeks blotched with worry.
He's never been seriously ill before. This came out of nowhere.

(02:01:44):
Time seemed to warp Over the next few days. The
doctor's confirmed advanced kidney cancer, explaining it had spread more
than they'd hoped. We can try treatments, but it's aggressive,
one oncologist had said, grim faced. I visited Dyll in
his hospital room, a sterile place that smelled of antiseptic.

(02:02:04):
He was propped up on pillows and roman for snaking
into his arm. He managed a weak grin when I
walked in, Hey buddy, he greeted, voice raspy, Sorry for
the scare, I forced a smile, swallowing the lump in
my throat. We'll get through this, I said, not sure
if I believed my own words. I offered him a

(02:02:26):
homemade smoothie Ey'd picked up, but he waved it off,
app at ight gone. Sabrina hovered at his bedside, occasionally
wiping away silent tears. The pregnancy news had been overshadowed
by this avalanche of fear. I watched her stroked Dylan's hair,
her face etched with love and dread. My own chest
tightened as I recalled how important they both were to me.

(02:02:49):
Was I about to lose Dylan just as our strange
new family was forming. Over the following week, Dylan underwent
various treatments, tests, biopsies, talks of chemotherapy. I stepped in
wherever possible, handling errands, bringing Sabrina meals, liaising with doctors
so she could rest. The once lingering tension over who
might father her child took a back seat. We were

(02:03:12):
in crisis mode. One evening, while Sabrina grabbed food from
the caffeteria, I helped Dylan with some paperwork the hospital
had given him. He winced every time he shifted in bed,
the pain wearing him down. Do me a favor, he rasped,
handing me a small folder labeled financial documents. If anything
happens to me, keep an eye on Sabrina and the baby.

(02:03:35):
The gravity of his words hit hard. Don't talk like that,
I murmured, though tears threatened. We're going to fight this,
he offered a tired smile. We are, but I'm also
a realist. I know this might not end the way
we want. He coughed, breath ragged. Just promise me, e.
I swallowed the knot in my throat and nodded firmly.

(02:03:58):
I promise. In those hushed hours by Dylan's bedside, something
shifted in my view of the world. My ruthless focus
on Lauren's downfall felt trivial compared to the fragility of
life in front of me. Guilt seeped in. I'd poured
so much energy into revenge, yet here real tragedy loomed,
far outstripping any of my engineered chaos. When Sabrina returned,

(02:04:22):
we found a private waiting area to talk. She was trembling,
eyes flicking anxiously between me and the hospital corridor. She
admitted how terrified she was, not just for Dylan's sake,
but for the baby growing inside her. I can't lose him,
she whispered, voice cracking. I can't raise this child alone.
I clasped her hand. You won't be alone, I said,

(02:04:46):
meaning every word. I'll be here no matter what. She
broke down, crying into my shoulder. I held her gently,
glancing through the glass pane to see Dylan's pale silhouette
under the fluorescent lights. For the first time in a
long while, my anger at Lauren seemed insignificant. Life had
thrown a harsher test at me, at us. As the

(02:05:08):
night deepened, I stayed until visiting hours ended. Before leaving,
I pressed my forehead against Dylan's door, seeing him dozing fitfully.
A swarm of conflicting emotions raged, sadness, fear, a fierce
protectiveness for Sabrina and the unborn child. Stepping out into
the crisp night air, I closed my eyes and exhaled.

(02:05:30):
Vengeance had consumed me for so long, but now love,
the raw love for a dying friend, pushed everything else aside.
The cruelty eyed unleashed on Lauren felt like a distant echo,
overshadowed by the looming specter of Dylan's illness. I climbed
into my car, hands trembling on the steering wheel. The
path ahead was far from clear. All I knew was

(02:05:51):
that I'd do whatever it took to help Dylan and
Sabrina through this, even if it meant letting go of
some of the resentment that had fueled me. I Oweddlan
that much. After all, we'd shared a bond deeper than
the betrayals of marriage or the twisted tangles of an affair.
We were in a strange way family. The last weeks
of Dilan's life slipped by in a haze of hospital visits,

(02:06:15):
dim corridors, and the soft beap of medical monitors. As
much as we clung to hope, the cancer surged faster
than any treatments could contain. Each time I saw him,
he looked thinner, paler, his once lively eyes dulled by pain,
meds and exhaustion. Sabriena practically lived at the hospital pregnancy, notwithstanding,

(02:06:35):
I stepped in to handle her errands, picking up vitamins,
scheduling her prenatal checkups. She insisted on checking in Ondlan
every few hours, dreading each beep of the machines. Even
the nurses started recognizing me. One kind older nurse, Marjorie,
would greet me with a sad smile, telling me Dilan
had been asking for me whenever I wasn't around. One

(02:06:58):
overgast afternoon, I returned from grabbing coffee for Sabrina and
found Dylan propped up on pillows, fighting to stay awake.
He waved me closer, his breath shallow. Hey, he croaked,
haven't got much time left. I tried to protest, but
he shook his head weakly. Don't sugarcoat it, man, he coughed, wincing.

(02:07:19):
I've made my peace. Just a few things left to say.
He motioned to a sealed envelope on the side table.
My name was scrawled across it in Dylan's shaky handwriting.

Speaker 2 (02:07:31):
That's for you.

Speaker 1 (02:07:32):
Read it after after I'm gone. I swallowed the lump
in my throat. Dylan, he mustered a sad smile. It's
nothing dramatic. Just wanted to thank you for being there
for Sabrina, for the baby. He paused, eyes flicking toward
the hallway, where Sabrina's voice murmured with a nurse. You're
a good friend, Ethan, a good man, no matter what

(02:07:55):
you think of yourself. Hot tears stung my eyes. I
reached for his hand, gripping it gently. I won't let
you down, I whispered, voice thick. I promise I'll take
care of them always. His gaze grew distant. That's all
I need to hear. He coughed again, and his expression
tightened in pain. It's funny, you know, all that drama

(02:08:17):
with Lauren. I used to think that was the worst
thing that could happen. Guess I was wrong. Emotion clogged
my throat. I'm sorry, was all I could manage. Sabrina
returned to the room, tears in her eyes. She climbed
onto the edge of the bed, placing a trembling hand
on Dylan's cheek. He looked at her with a mixture

(02:08:38):
of love and sorrow. The machines beaped, and a nurse
hovered at the door, giving us space, yet staying close
in case Dylan's vitals dropped. A hush fell, broken only
by the rhythmic hum of the oxygen feed. Dylan's breathing
became ragged, each inhale more labored. Saborina laced her fingers
through his leaning and to kiss his fore I love you,

(02:09:01):
she whispered, tears streaking her cheeks. His lips moved, forming
the same words in silence. Then, with a final shuddering breath,
Dylan Green slipped away. The machines began to scream in alarm.
Sabrina let out a choked sob, burying her face in
his chest. I staggered back against the wall, adrenaline roaring

(02:09:23):
in my ears. Nurses rushed in, checking for vitals they
wouldn't find. In a matter of moments, it was over.

Speaker 2 (02:09:30):
He was gone. Time blurred.

Speaker 1 (02:09:32):
A doctor calmly declared the time of death, and I
found myself holding Sabrina while she trembled, her tears soaking
my shirt. Everything else, the entire world faded. My friend
was gone, his final hours spent in a stark hospital
room under fluorescent lights. Eventually, a kind nurse ushered us out,

(02:09:53):
letting us say our last good bys before they covered
Dylan's body. Sabrina clung to me in the hallway, her
sobs raw and uncontained. I felt strangely numb, tears only
coming in short bursts. My mind kept replaying my last
conversation with Dylan, his voice telling me to protect Sabrina
and the baby. Some time later, I drove Sabrina home,

(02:10:17):
though it felt surreal to leave Dylan behind. She was
silent in the passenger seat, staring blankly at the passing
city lights. We reached her doorstep and she turned to me,
cheeks stained with sorrow. Stay with me, she asked quietly.
I nodded, guiding her inside. The house felt hollow, robbed
of Dylan's warm presence. We didn't talk much. Instead, we

(02:10:41):
sat together on the couch, the hush of the night
pressing in. She clutched at my arm, as if afraid
I'd vanished too. At some point, exhaustion overtook us, and
we dozed off side by side. I woke in the
early hours to find her still curled against me, tear
tracks drya on her fe Gently, I eased myself away,

(02:11:03):
covering her with a blanket, my gaze lingered on her
rounded belly. Our child who would enter the world, never
knowing Dylan in person. But I'd make sure that child
grew up understanding who Dylan was, in how much he
loved them. Before leaving, I remembered the envelope Dylan had
given me. Reaching into my pocket, I found it crumpled

(02:11:24):
but intact. My name glared up at me in his
shaky scrawl. For a moment. I considered opening it right then,
but a wave of emotion stopped me. I needed to
be alone, in my own space to handle whatever final
words Dylan had left me. Quietly, I let myself out
a ghostly dawn light creeping over the neighborhood. My heart

(02:11:45):
felt heavy, raw with grief. Lauren and all her machinations
seemed distant. My thirst for revenge felt like a memory
from another life. The world had shifted, centered on Sabrina's
heartbreak and the new life she carried. As I drove
home in the dim morning light, I realized I stood
at a cross roads. The old me had orchestrated a

(02:12:07):
grand downfall, consumed by anger. Now life had handed me
the crushing reminder that some losses were beyond revenge, beyond blame.
Dylan's death weighed on my chest like an anger, Yet
there was also a faint whisper of purpose. I had
to step up for Sabrina and the baby, to honor
Dylan's last request. Everything else, Lauren the lawsuit. The scattered

(02:12:30):
remains of a marriage fell to the background as the
sun rose. I parked in my driveway. The envelope from
Dylan clenched tight in my fist and sure if I
was ready to read his parting words. But one thing
was certain. The moment I opened it, I'd be taking
another step forward, beyond vengeance, beyond heartbreak, into a life

(02:12:52):
forever changed by loss and maybe with time, by hope.
Two days after Dylan's funeral, I found myself at my
die dining room table, staring at a small, sealed envelope
labeled in his handwriting for Ethan's eyes only in the
aftermath of his passing. I'd been too raw to open it. Now,
with the sun streaming through the window, I carefully broke

(02:13:14):
the seal. Inside was a single sheet of lined paper,
ink smudged in places where Dylan's hand must have trembled. Ethan,
if you're reading this, I'm gone. You already know you
have to take care of Sabrina and the baby, but
I need you to do one more thing. Take care
of yourself. Don't let bitterness eat you alive. I trust

(02:13:37):
you to make this family whole again. You're a better
man than you realize. My throat tightened, tears threatening. Dylan
had seen through my anger and pain, urging me to
let go of the hurt that had once fueled me.
I folded the note, gently, tucking it back into the envelope.
Resolve stirring in my chest. I owed it to him

(02:13:58):
to find some semblance of peace. Less than an hour later,
my phone rang. It was my attorney, Rebecca Hanson, calling
to confirm our final hearing date for the divorce. The
judge scheduled it for early next week, she said, her
tone brisk but not unkind. Lauren's legal team has been
quiet except for one last negotiation attempt. My pulse ticked up. Negotiation,

(02:14:22):
What do they want? She sighed?

Speaker 2 (02:14:24):
Money?

Speaker 1 (02:14:25):
Of course, Lauren's bankrupt and there pushing for spousal support.
I let out a cold laugh, remembering how thoroughly I'd
insured her financial collapse. You think they have a case,
they'll try, Hanson replied, but given the evidence of adultery
in your documented financial records, it's unlikely the court will

(02:14:45):
grant significant support of any stay firm. Stay firm, I
could manage that. I hung up pacing my living room
even now, Lauren was grasping at straws, hoping to squeeze
me for the resources. She no longer had a flicker
of anger flared, but Dylan's note echoed in my mind.
Don't let bitterness eat you alive. On the day of

(02:15:08):
the hearing, I walked into the court house feeling oddly calm.
I spotted Lorn by the court room doors, talking in
hushed tones with her attorney. She'd lost weight, dark circles
beneath her eyes. A pang of pity tugged at me.
She looked drained, thoroughly defeated. When she glanced my way,

(02:15:28):
our eyes met for a tense second. Her face hardened,
and she turned away. Inside the court room, the proceedings
were swift, handsome. Presented evidence of Lauren's affair, the timeline
of her moving out, and my finances prior to her
unauthorized spending. Lauren's lawyer countered with vague accusations of emotional

(02:15:48):
distress and claims that I'd manipulated joint accounts. The judge,
a stern faced woman with gray hair pulled back in
a bun, asked questions about the missing funds, the second mortgage,
the maxed out credit cards, but Hansen had prepared meticulously.
She showed a paper trail of my consistent payments, my

(02:16:08):
stable job, and Lauren's separate spending spree. Any lingering doubt
about who bore responsibility for the debt's dissault under the
judge's scrutiny. Finally, with a firm wrap of the gavel,
the judge declared divorce, granted division of assets as presented,
Spousal support denied. Lauren's shoulders slumped. Her lawyer whispered something,

(02:16:31):
but she just stared straight ahead, eyes hollow. I felt
a surge of triumph, and then a soft pang of sorrow.
Ten years of marriage boiled down to a two minute ruling.
It was over. As I exited the court room, Lauren
stepped into my path. Up close, her exhaustion was painfully clear, Ethan,

(02:16:51):
She murmured, voice cracking, Can we talk, I inhaled, steadying myself.
If it's about money, the court just ruled, there's nothing
else to say. Her eyes glimmered with tears. I lost everything.
If you could just help me get on my feet again, please.
I thought of Dylan's letter, telling me not to let

(02:17:12):
hatred consume me. But remembering how she'd lied and disappeared
with Adam, how she left me in the dark for months,
my sympathy dried up. I can't, I said, quietly, I won't.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she nodded, as if
she'd expected no less. Without another word, she turned and
walked down the hallway, her silhouette shrinking until she disappeared

(02:17:35):
through the court house doors. Standing there, I felt no exhilaration,
only the quiet weight of finality. The divorce was over,
Lauren was out of my life for good, this time
back home, I set my paper work on the kitchen counter,
exhaling a long, shaky breath. A text from Sabrina popped up. Sabrina,

(02:17:55):
how did it go?

Speaker 2 (02:17:56):
You okay?

Speaker 1 (02:17:57):
I typed back me. It's done. I'll fill you in later,
thanks for asking. As I scent it, I realized a
new chapter was beginning, one where I was free from
Lauren's shadow. The bitterness that once fueled me felt numb now.
Maybe it was exhaustion, or maybe it was the first
stirrings of relief. Lauren's betrayal had led me down a

(02:18:19):
dark road, but now I stood at the other end,
staring at the faint light of something hopeful. I pressed
my palm against Dylan's envelope in my jacket pocket, whispering
the silent thanks. This was for him, for the people
I still cared about. If letting go of vengeance was
part of that, so be it. Outside the day was bright,

(02:18:41):
a gentle breeze rustling the trees, and for the first
time in a long while, I felt the tension and
my chest loosened like I could finally breathe. Two months later,
I found myself rushing through the corridors of the same
hospital where Dylan had passed away. This time, though I
wasn't walking in with dread weighing me down, I was

(02:19:01):
carrying a mixture of anxiety and excitement. Sabrina had gone
into labor unexpectedly, three weeks before her due date. The
fluorescent lights overhead felt surreal, echoing my memories of pacing
these halls during Dylan's final days. But this was different,
a beginning, not an end. I reached the maternity ward

(02:19:22):
breathless to find Sabrina in a room hooked up to
monitors and in roman for She greeted me with a
trembling smile that underscored her nerves. A nurse bustled around,
adjusting wires, checking Sabrina's vitals. Contractions are coming faster, the
nurse said, glancing at me with a friendly nod. We're
getting close. Sabrina squeezed my hand the instant I reached

(02:19:46):
her side ethan, she gasped, sweat beating her forehead.

Speaker 2 (02:19:50):
They said it.

Speaker 1 (02:19:51):
Might be a little early, but the baby's strong. You're strong,
I murmured, bending low to meet her gaze. We've got this.
The next next hour was a blur. Doctors and nurses
came in and out, voices, calm yet urgent. I held
Sabrina's hand, feeding her ice chips between contractions. Her face
contorted with pain, but she bore it fiercely, determined to

(02:20:14):
bring this child into the world. My heart thundered, half
in fear, half in wonder.

Speaker 2 (02:20:20):
Dylan would have.

Speaker 1 (02:20:21):
Wanted to see this, I thought, a pang of sadness
threading through the anticipation. Finally, with one last intense push,
the air filled with the sharp cry of a new,
worn relief, and all rushed through me. The doctor lifted
a small, wriggling baby, red faced, wailing at full volume.
A nurse placed the child on Sabrina's chest. Tears streamed

(02:20:43):
down her cheeks as she cradled the infant, gently, murmuring
soft words of comfort. I hovered beside them. The reality
sinking in this child was ours, Sabrina's and mine, in
the legacy Dylan had endorsed. The nurse offered me a
pair of scissors to cut them the umbilical cord, my
hands shaking as I did so. A wave of emotion

(02:21:05):
caught in my throat, and I glanced at Sabrina, who
gazed up at me with gratitude and exhaustion in her eyes.
It's a boy, the doctor announced, with a gentle smile.

Speaker 2 (02:21:15):
A boy.

Speaker 1 (02:21:16):
My head spun memories colliding Lauren's betrayal, Dylan's death, the
carefully orchestrated revenge that once fueled me. In this moment,
all that chaos receded, replaced by the raw miracle of
a new life. Once the nurses cleaned him and wrapped
him in a soft blanket, I finally got to hold
my son. He felt impossibly small, lips quivering, eyes squeezed

(02:21:40):
shut as he fussed. I whispered a trembling greeting tears
burning my own eyes. Hey buddy, I murmured, I'm your dad.
Sabrina watched with a watery smile. He's perfect, she whispered.
For a moment, the entire world seemed to shrink to
just us three, No drama, no grudges, just an overwhelming

(02:22:01):
rush of love and relief. I thought about Dylan, how
he'd wanted this child to exist, how he'd trusted me
to stand by Sabrina. I could almost feel his presence,
a quiet nudge of approval. Later, when the bustle subsided,
Sabrina dozed off.

Speaker 2 (02:22:18):
A nurse helped me.

Speaker 1 (02:22:19):
Settle the baby in a small basinet beside her bed.
I slipped out to the hallway to breathe, emotion swirling.
The hospital corridor looked so different from the night Dylan died.
Same walls, same lights, yet an entirely new significance. This
place now held both the darkest memory of my life
and the brightest. Outside the window, dusk settled over the city.

(02:22:43):
I pressed my forehead against the glass, phone in hand,
debating whether to share the news publicly. A text from Maggie,
a coworker, asked about Saborina's condition. Another from an old
friend read heard she's in labor. Congrats. Man word traveled
fast in a small town. I fired off a few messages, me,

(02:23:05):
he's here, healthy, baby boy, mom is good. Responses poured in,
full of congratulations and excitement. Even John Parker, my old
private detective, sent a quick congrats. I knew you'd get
your happy ending. I snorted at that happy ending might
be pushing it, but I appreciated the sentiment. Walking back

(02:23:26):
into Sabrina's room, I found her awake, cradling our son.
The lamp over her bed cast a warm glow, softening
the harsh lines of the hospital monitors. She looked tired
but content, humming a lullaby under her breath. Hey, I said, quietly,
slipping beside her. She leaned her head on my shoulder.

(02:23:47):
We need to name him, she said, voice hushed. I
was thinking Dylan as a middle name, to honor. I
felt my chest tighten. Ye, I whispered, overcome by the gesture.
That would be perfect. We decided on a first name, Matthew,
a gentle compromise we both liked, with Dylan as the
middle Matthew Dilan Carter. I stared at our dozing newborn,

(02:24:11):
a fierce protectiveness surging through me. In this tiny person,
I saw a chance to create a life free from
the bitterness that had once consumed me. I sat with
Sabrina and Matthew for hours, hardly noticing the passage of time. Eventually,
a nurse popped in, checking vitals and urging us to
rest before leaving. Sabrina caught my hand, her eyes brimming

(02:24:33):
with a quiet gratitude. Thank you for staying, she said softly.
I wouldn't be anywhere else, I replied, pressing a gentle
kiss to her temple. In that moment, I realized my
revenge against Lauren, my entire twisted journey, had led me
here to something far greater than retribution. Holding our newborn son,
I found a sense of wholeness I hadn't felt in years.

(02:24:56):
Three weeks after Matthew's birth, Sabrina and I sat on
the por orch of her modest ranch house, watching dusk
settle across the yard. The crickets chirped a soft background
melody to our conversation. Matthew snoozed, insighed, tucked safely in
a bassinet near the living room window. Life had found
a new rhythm. Midnight feedings diaper changes and the gentle

(02:25:17):
wonder of caring for a new worn How do you
feel about moving in here permanently, Sabrina asked, breaking the
comfortable silence, She ran her palm over the porches wooden railing.
I mean, I love having you here, but you still
keep your own place. It feels like we're half living together.
I considered her words, sipping the sweet tea she'd handed

(02:25:40):
me earlier. Part of me had been reluctant to give
up my old house, a tangible reminder of the life
I'd once had with Lauren. But these days the house
felt more like a tomb of unhappy memories. Here with
Sabrina and Matthew was where I actually lived. I want
that too, I admitted, smiling softly. I guess I just

(02:26:01):
didn't want to invade your space. She let out a
light laugh. Ethan, you're the father of my child. Your
space is my space now, I felt a wave of relief. Okay,
I murmured, let's make it official. Over the next couple
of weeks, we quietly merged our households. I sold Offwhard,
donated the mountain of electronics I'd once hoarded at Lauren's expense.

(02:26:25):
Some of it's still unopened. That chapter of my life
felt distant, a relic of petty vengeance. Meanwhile, we bought
new furniture together, Sabrina insisting on a comfortable rocking chair
for Matthew's nighttime feedings. Friends and neighbors stopped by with gifts,
tiny one seas, baby blankets, cassor ole dishes to spare

(02:26:46):
us the trouble of cooking. One afternoon, I ran into Valerie,
an acquaintance from years back, while picking up groceries for Sabrina.
She noticed the baby formula and diapers in my cart,
her eyes lighting up with curiosity. I heard you too
had a baby, she said, and that you moved in
with Sabrina. How's fatherhood treating you? I grinned on characteristically open.

(02:27:09):
It's good, exhausting, but good. I wouldn't trade it for anything.
She nodded, then ventured more quietly, what about Louren? People
said your divorce got final, but do you ever see her?
My chest tightened. No, I said, simply, we're done. Valerie
looked thoughtful, then patted my arm. Well, I'm happy for you.

(02:27:31):
Dylan would be too. Her mention of Dylan squeezed my heart. Thanks,
I managed. She offered a supportive smile, then moved onto
the produce isle. I lingered by the baby section a
moment longer, feeling an odd mix of gratitude and lingering sorrow.
Even small interactions reminded me of how deeply Dylan's absence

(02:27:53):
cut back. At Sabrina's house, our house, really, I found
Sabrina in the living room, rocking mad you, humming a
soft tune. The lamp cast a warm glow on her face.
She glanced up, noticing my reflective mood.

Speaker 2 (02:28:08):
Are you okay?

Speaker 1 (02:28:09):
I set the groceries down and approached, gently, brushing a
hand over Matthew's tiny head. He had Sabriina's dark hair,
but seemed to have my nose. Just ran into an
old friend, I explained, lowering my voice so as not
to wake him. Got me thinking about how different everything
is now. Saborina nodded, understanding, flickering in her gaze. Sometimes

(02:28:32):
I wonder what Dylan would say if he could seal us.
I hope we're doing right by him. I kneeled beside
the rocking chair, resting a hand on her knee. We are,
I said, conviction firm in my tone. He trusted us
to be a family, and that's what we're building. She exhaled, relieved,
Yes we are. Then, glancing around the living room, cluttered

(02:28:55):
with baby toys and half folded laundry, she laughed softly,
it's a mess, but it's ours. Later that night, after
Matthew finally settled, we curled up on the couch, sipping
Cammle tea. The conversation drifted to the future, school plans,
day care options, may be upgrading the old ranch house
if we ever needed more space. A sense of calm

(02:29:18):
replaced the tension that once defined my life. I thought
of all the nights i'd lain awake plotting Lauren's downfall,
my heart pounding with anger and fear. Now I was
free from that cycle. Just then, Saborena touched my arm.
I've been thinking about something, she said, hesitant. Should we
maybe have a little gathering to celebrate Matthew, a sort

(02:29:40):
of belated baby shower plus a welcome to you. Moving
in my mind flashed to the neighbors who'd witnessed Lauren's meltdown,
to the hushed whispers about the affair. A pang of
anxiety flared, but then I recalled Dylan's letter, don't let
bitterness eat you alive. He would want me to embrace
this new life openly, without shame or fear. Yeah, I said, slowly,

(02:30:03):
a smile, forming I think we should. Let's invite people, friends, neighbors,
give them a chance to see that we're doing okay.
Her eyes sparkled, relief washing over her that it'd be lovely.
We stayed up late, brainstorming who to invite, what food
to serve, how to decorate. The conversation felt light, hopeful,

(02:30:25):
like we were finally moving on from the darkness that
had haunted us for so long. When we climbed into bed,
Sabrina fell asleep, almost instantly, worn out from the day's bustle.
I lay awake, thinking about how far I'd come, how
far we'd come from vengeance, betrayal, and heartbreak. We were
forging something new in the quiet. I pressed a hand

(02:30:46):
against Sabrina's tangling our fingers. This life we were building
might not have been traditional nor free of pain, but
it was ours, and for the first time since Lareen's departure,
I felt the stirring of genuine contentment, as though some
small part of me had finally found a home. The
late spring sun warmed the back yard, a gentle breeze

(02:31:08):
rustling the newly blossomed trees. Sabrina's impromptu welcome party for
Matthew and for me was in full swing. Neighbors milled around,
sipping lemonade, admiring the decorated picnic tables, cooing over Matthew
dozing in his stroller. I hovered at the grill, flipping burghers,
trying not to burn them. Every so often, I caught

(02:31:28):
snippets of conversation, people discussing how nice it was to
see me smile again, how Sabrina seemed brighter despite losing Dylan.
Some folks who'd known us for years murmured about the
strangeness of it all, Dylan's passing, the baby's birth, the
hush hush details of my divorce, But overall, the atmosphere
was warm. It felt like the small town had at

(02:31:50):
least partially accepted our unconventional family. I glanced at Sabrina,
who was chatting with Maggie from my office. She still
wore a trace of sadness in her eyes. Dylan's absence
would never fully vanish. But also a quiet confidence. She
laughed at something Maggie said, then touched Matthew's hand lovingly.

(02:32:11):
A flush of gratitude filled me. We weren't hiding anymore.
Suddenly I noticed Lauren standing at the fence line, half
obscured by a maple tree. My stomach lurched. She hadn't
been invited, of course. She looked unsure, almost skittish, as
though she'd just been wandering by. Her clothes were shabby,
her hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Heart pounding, I

(02:32:34):
handed the spatula to Dylan's old coworker, who offered to
watch the grill, and made my way across the lawn.
A hush fell over the nearest group of neighbors. They
recognized her, no doubt, remembering the scandal. I reached the fence,
tension bristling Lauren, I said, quietly, arms crossing over my chest,

(02:32:54):
What are you doing here? She lowered her gaze, twisting
her hands. I saw the heard laughter, figured something was
going on. Her voice wavered. I won't stay. I just
I wanted to see you, congratulate you. Part of me
wanted to order her away, but Dylan's letter whispered in
my mind. I inhaled slowly. Now's not a good time,

(02:33:17):
I managed, keeping my voice low. This is a celebration.
She nodded hastily. I know I'm not here to ruin anything.
Her eyes flicked towards Sabrina, who stood by the stroller,
noticing us. I just wanted to say I'm sorry for everything.
I lost sight of what mattered, and it cost me.
But I guess you have a new life now. The

(02:33:39):
sting in her words was tempered by the defeat in
her tone. My anger from the past felt distant. She
was simply a broken figure from another chapter I do,
I said, gently, It's time to move on. She swallowed,
eyes glistening.

Speaker 2 (02:33:56):
Yes, it is.

Speaker 1 (02:33:57):
A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away,
forcing a tiny, sad smile. Take care, Ethan. Without waiting
for a response, she turned and walked off down the sidewalk.
My chest tightened, but I let her go. We both
deserve to live free of the other's shadow. Returning to
the party, I found Sabareina watching me with concern. You okay,

(02:34:19):
she asked, softly, rubbing my arm. I nodded. She was
just passing by It's fine. The truth was, I felt
a surprising measure of calm once seeing Lauren with a
ignited rage or anguish. Now I felt only a quiet pity,
a sense that our story was fully closed. Saburina leaned in,
pressing her head to my shoulder. Good, she murmured, Because

(02:34:43):
we're supposed to be happy right now. I am, I said,
meaning it, I really am. The party flowed on as
dusk approached. The crowd thinned out, neighbors wishing us well.
With Matthew dozing indoors, Saborina and I ended up on
the back porch, lights strung along the eaves twinkling in
the twilight. The hush was companionable, each of us lost

(02:35:06):
in thoughts of the day. Then, in a moment of impulse,
I reached into my pocket, heart pounding all over again.
Dylan's letter sat folded in my wallet, A reminder of
promises made. I pulled out a small ring I'd been
quietly saving for weeks. Nothing too ornate, just a simple
band with a tiny diamond. Sabrina stared as I held

(02:35:29):
it out. Marry me, I asked, voice trembling. I know
it's not conventional, especially after everything, but I love you
and I want to build this life together. Officially, her
eyes brimmed with tears, one hand flying to her mouth.
For a second, she couldn't speak, just nodded furiously. Then
she managed a breathy yes, Oh my god, Yes, she laughed, tearfully,

(02:35:54):
letting me slip the ring onto her finger. We embraced
a rush of relief and joy, flooding me an equal measure.
In the distance, a neighbor's dog barked, The wind rustled
the leaves, carrying the faint scent of freshly cut grass.
The world felt alive and expansive, far different from the
claustrophobic misery i'd once known. We stood there for a

(02:36:16):
long time, content just to hold each other. Eventually we
went inside to check on Matthew. He squirmed in his basinet,
half asleep. Saborina stroked his cheek, then turned to me,
eyes shining. We have a future, Ethan, she whispered, a
real one. I kissed her softly, reflecting on how improbable

(02:36:36):
it all seemed. My marriage to Lauren had once felt
like a life sentence of betrayal and bitterness, but now
I had Sabriina, our child, a place to call home
and a sense of peace that had eluded me for
too long. As night settled, I carried Matthew to his nursery,
lulled by the soft glow of a night light shaped
like a crescent moon. Saborina stood beside me, the new

(02:36:59):
ring catching the dim light. Together, we watched our sun's
small chest rise and fall in rhythmic breaths. I remember Dylan,
the friend who believed in me when I couldn't see
past my own fury. His letter rustled in my back pocket,
a silent testament to how far we'd come. A gentle
warmth swelled in my chest, love, gratitude, and a renewed

(02:37:21):
promise not to let bitterness defind me an amore outside,
the slow motion film of my life shifted into a
gentler pace, no longer haunted by betrayal or the quest
for revenge, but guided by quiet hope. I slipped an
arm around Sabrina and she rested her head against my shoulder.
We stood like that for a while, letting our hearts

(02:37:42):
settle into the silence, each of us knowing this was
only the start of a new story, as story fueled
not by anger, but by the enduring power of love.
I am Lady Truth and I hope you enjoyed that cheat.

Speaker 2 (02:37:56):
More stories to.

Speaker 1 (02:37:57):
Come and I will talk to you in the next one.
Them Baation