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<\/p>\nWhen I found out my wife was cheating, I saw a chance instead of hurt. I had no clue that my scheme to cash in on her affair would pull me into a messy moral tangle, making me wrestle with what freedom really costs.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I knew Brooke was stepping out on me. It wasn\u2019t tough to piece together with all her late-night texts, sudden work trips, and sneaky phone calls. But I didn\u2019t call her out. Honestly, I didn\u2019t feel a thing for her once I knew. We\u2019d been hitched so long, my heart was empty.<\/p>\n
The real problem was, I was terrified of a divorce. It\u2019d leave me flat broke. I leaned on her big paycheck to keep our life going. She covered the apartment, insurance, groceries\u2014everything. So, I just clenched my jaw and played like all was well.<\/p>\n
One day, while sorting laundry, I found a crumpled receipt from a swanky restaurant in her jeans pocket. The name on it? Reid M\u2014.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhoa,\u201d I muttered to the empty laundry room. It all fell into place. I knew the guy\u2014her dad\u2019s buddy, who I\u2019d seen a couple times at her dad\u2019s birthday bashes.<\/p>\n
I remembered Reid from those parties. Loaded guy, a bit doughy, always gazing at Brooke like she lit up the sky. Back then, I figured he was just being friendly. Now? Now I saw the truth.<\/p>\n
I plopped down on the cold tile floor, receipt in hand, and let out a dry laugh. Not a happy one\u2014more like something you\u2019d hear in a loony bin.<\/p>\n
\u201cWyatt?\u201d Brooke\u2019s voice floated down from upstairs. \u201cYou okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
I scrunched the receipt and stuffed it in my pocket. \u201cYeah, all good. Just\u2026 stubbed my toe.\u201d<\/p>\n
That night, sleep wouldn\u2019t come. I kept mulling over Reid and Brooke, the extra cash we\u2019d been seeing, the new car I got for my birthday. It all added up now.<\/p>\n
Next morning, I waited till Brooke left for \u201cwork\u201d before I snooped through her old phone. She was always careless with her passcode\u20144673, our anniversary. Ironic, huh?<\/p>\n
What I found twisted my gut. Old texts to Reid, dripping with hearts and kisses. Texts to her friends, raving about how awesome he was. But there was more\u2014something I didn\u2019t see coming.<\/p>\n
\u201cI still love Wyatt,\u201d one text to her friend said. \u201cBut we needed the money. Reid\u2019s just\u2026 a way to keep going. Is that awful?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her friend shot back quick, \u201cGirl, do what you gotta do. But be careful\u2014this could backfire big time.\u201d<\/p>\n
I scoffed. If she only knew.<\/p>\n
I kept scrolling, reading texts between Brooke and Reid. It was crystal clear: Reid was head over heels, and Brooke was stringing him along.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wish you\u2019d ditch him,\u201d Reid wrote. \u201cWe\u2019d be so happy together.\u201d<\/p>\n
Brooke\u2019s reply was cagey. \u201cIt\u2019s complicated, Reid. Let\u2019s just enjoy this for now.\u201d<\/p>\n
I set the phone down, my mind racing. A wild, brilliant idea hit me. Why not turn this to my favor?<\/p>\n
I saved Reid\u2019s number to my phone and bided my time, cooking up my next move.<\/p>\n
A week later, I made the call. My heart was thumping as the phone rang.<\/p>\n
\u201cHello?\u201d Reid\u2019s voice was deep, self-assured.<\/p>\n
I took a deep breath. \u201cReid? This is Wyatt, Brooke\u2019s husband.\u201d<\/p>\n
The silence on the other end was heavy. I could practically hear his brain scrambling.<\/p>\n
Finally, he spoke. \u201cWyatt. What\u2019s up?\u201d<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t beat around the bush. \u201cI know about you and Brooke. I know you\u2019re footing our bills. I\u2019m ready to walk away, file for divorce, and let you have her. But I need something in return.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd what\u2019s that?\u201d His tone turned wary.<\/p>\n
\u201cFifty grand. To start fresh.\u201d<\/p>\n
A long pause. I could hear his breathing.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would I hand over money?\u201d he asked at last.<\/p>\n
I let out a short, bitter chuckle. \u201cBecause if I leave and break her heart, she\u2019s all yours. I just need a clean slate. Think of it as\u2026 a bet on your happy ending.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019d just walk away like that?\u201d He sounded floored.<\/p>\n
\u201cReid, buddy, I checked out of this marriage ages ago. I\u2019m just looking for a way out that doesn\u2019t leave me penniless.\u201d<\/p>\n
He went quiet for so long I thought he\u2019d hung up. Then, \u201cI\u2019ll think it over.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t take too long,\u201d I said. \u201cOffer\u2019s good for 48 hours.\u201d<\/p>\n
I hung up before he could answer. My hands were shaky as I put the phone down. I\u2019d done it. Now I just had to wait.<\/p>\n
The next two days dragged on forever. Every time my phone buzzed, I jumped, thinking it was Reid. But it was always someone else\u2014a spam call, a text from my mom. Never Reid.<\/p>\n
Brooke picked up on my mood. \u201cYou alright, honey?\u201d she asked over dinner. \u201cYou seem off.\u201d<\/p>\n
I forced a grin. \u201cJust work crap. No big deal.\u201d<\/p>\n
She reached over and squeezed my hand. That touch, once cozy, now made my skin crawl. I pulled back, pretending I needed more water.<\/p>\n
When the 48-hour deadline loomed, I started to sweat. What if Reid called my bluff? What if he spilled to Brooke? What if\u2026<\/p>\n
My phone buzzed. Unknown number.<\/p>\n
\u201cHello?\u201d I answered, voice barely a whisper.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s done,\u201d Reid said. \u201cCheck your account.\u201d<\/p>\n
I fumbled for my laptop, logging into my bank with trembling fingers. There it was: $50,000. Just like that.<\/p>\n
\u201cThanks,\u201d I said, my voice rough. \u201cJust\u2026 look after her, okay?\u201d I added, almost pleading.<\/p>\n
I couldn\u2019t bring myself to tell him the truth\u2014that Brooke was playing him just like she\u2019d played me. Instead, I just said, \u201cGoodbye, Reid,\u201d and hung up.<\/p>\n
I sat there forever, staring at the screen. $50,000. My ticket out. My shot at a fresh start.<\/p>\n
I heard Brooke\u2019s car pull into the driveway. Showtime.<\/p>\n
I was on the couch when she walked in, a folder of divorce papers on the coffee table.<\/p>\n
\u201cWyatt?\u201d Her voice was shaky. \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time in months. She was gorgeous, no doubt. But I felt\u2026 nothing.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s done, Brooke,\u201d I said, voice steady. \u201cI know about Reid.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her face went white. \u201cWyatt, I can explain\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
I raised a hand. \u201cSave it. I don\u2019t want excuses. I want a divorce.\u201d<\/p>\n
She stood, took a few wobbly steps, and sank into the armchair across from me, her legs giving out. \u201cBut\u2026 what about money? The apartment? Our life?\u201d<\/p>\n
I smiled, and for the first time in years, it felt real. \u201cDon\u2019t worry about me. I\u2019ll be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
As I walked out of that apartment for the last time, duffel bag over my shoulder, I felt lighter than I had in years. Brooke was sobbing behind me, begging me to stay, to talk. But I was done talking.<\/p>\n
I checked into a cheap motel that night, sprawled on the lumpy bed, staring at the grimy ceiling. My phone kept buzzing\u2014Brooke, Reid, Brooke again. I ignored them all.<\/p>\n
Come morning, I\u2019d start hunting for a new place, a new job, a new life. But for now, I just lay there, the weight of the past few years slipping off my shoulders.<\/p>\n
Just as I was dozing off, my phone buzzed again. Against my better sense, I checked it.<\/p>\n
It was Brooke: \u201cI\u2019m sorry. I really did love you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at the text for a long time before typing back, \u201cI know. But sometimes love\u2019s not enough.\u201d I hit send, then turned off my phone. Tomorrow was a new day, and for the first time in years, I was pumped for it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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