When Daniel, Sarah, and their son, Derril, move to a new city, they take some time to readjust to the new place. One positive about the move is that Derril’s school focuses on soccer, his favorite sport. Soon after, things get strange when the little boy notices his soccer coach hugging his mom…
Recently, our lives changed when my wife, Sarah, landed a promising new job. It meant uprooting our lives and moving to a new city, but we were optimistic about the future.
A woman in a business suit holding paperwork | Source: Midjourney
“We need this, Daniel,” Sarah said. “We need to plan for our future, and we also need a new start. Living here has become stale.”
“I agree,” I said. “And we need a better life for Derril.”
Our seven-year-old son, Derril, was especially excited about the move because we enrolled him in a school with a soccer club, which was the one sport that he absolutely loved.
A smiling little boy | Source: Midjourney
Sarah and I were thrilled to see him so passionate about something, especially because we knew that moving would be a big adjustment for him.
“I’m happy about the move, Dad,” he told me one day when we were buying him a new pair of soccer boots. “My old school only cared about baseball and basketball, but soccer wasn’t important.”
“I’m glad that you’re happy about this,” I told him. “I want you to be happy with this move, too. We’re not just doing it because of Mom’s new job.”
A row of children’s soccer boots in a store | Source: Midjourney
He nodded enthusiastically.
A few months passed, and I had finally gotten into the routine of working from home. Thankfully, my career in cybersecurity meant that I could keep working at the same company following the move.
But, over time, I noticed a change in my son.
A man working on his laptop | Source: Midjourney
One day, he came home from school looking troubled, his usual enthusiasm dampened. His bright eyes seemed to lose their sparkle, and he became quieter and more withdrawn.
Whenever I tried to talk to him, he would just walk away, retreating into silence.
It was unlike Derril, and it worried me.
An upset little boy | Source: Midjourney
“Something is going on with him,” I told Sarah when I was making breakfast for the three of us before the day began.
“I know,” she nodded. “I’ve been seeing that, too. Whenever I try to talk to him, he looks at me for a moment before looking away.”
“Maybe it’s just part of adjusting to a new place? And making new friends, too? Because he’s still eating and sleeping as normal. So, until that changes, I think we’re okay,” I said.
A man in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
But then the tipping point came one day when I walked into his room after school and found him crying.
Just looking at him devastated me.
“Derril, what’s wrong?” I asked gently, sitting beside him on the bed. “I need you to tell me everything. Enough time has passed, and I know you’re not okay.”
A crying little boy | Source: Midjourney
He looked up at me, tears brimming in his eyes, and took a deep, shaky breath.
“I don’t want Mr. Sanders to be my father!” he blurted out.
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
Mr. Sanders was his new soccer coach, and he was someone whom Derril had admired up until now.
A soccer coach holding a tablet | Source: Midjourney
“Why would he become your father, Derril?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady and calm.
My son’s voice wavered as he explained.
“Yesterday, when Mom was picking me up from practice, he hugged her. And she didn’t push him away!”
Children playing soccer | Source: Midjourney
A cold sweat broke out on my forehead.
Sarah had been distant lately, but I always chalked it up to her being busy with her new job. I knew that it was going to be a rocky few months while we all adjusted. But at the same time, she seemed preoccupied, often lost in thought.
This, however, was something I couldn’t ignore.
A close-up of a shocked man | Source: Midjourney
Determined to uncover the truth, I logged off work early the next day and drove to the soccer field. Sarah usually fetched Derril from practice on her way home.
I parked far enough away to watch without being seen. I needed to know what was happening. I needed to know if Sarah and Mr. Sanders were romantically involved with each other.
As practice ended and the kids dispersed, I saw Sarah arrive. Moments later, Mr. Sanders approached her. They talked briefly, and then he placed a hand on her shoulder, leaning in close.
A man sitting in his car | Source: Midjourney
“They look way too comfortable,” I muttered to myself.
I watched as Sarah smiled but stepped back, looking around nervously, her eyes scanning the area as if she felt someone was watching.
“Yes, someone is watching,” I said to the car.
A woman standing outside while at soccer practice | Source: Midjourney
That night, I confronted my wife. I couldn’t take it any longer. I had made dinner and sat through the entire meal with doubts flooding my mind.
“Sarah, what’s going on with you and Mr. Sanders?” I asked straightforwardly.
Her face turned pale, and she took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“There’s nothing going on, Daniel,” she said. “I swear! He’s just been supportive, that’s all!”
“Supportive how? Derril thinks that he’s trying to replace me,” I pressed on. “I need to know why.”
Sarah’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief.
A frowning man | Source: Midjourney
“What? No! That’s not true! He’s been helping me with something else… something that I haven’t told you about yet.”
She sat me down, her voice trembling as she revealed a secret she’d been keeping.
“I can’t believe this,” I exclaimed, wondering why on earth I agreed to the move.
A couple talking | Source: Midjourney
Apparently, Mr. Sanders had recognized a man from his past. A man who had ran in the same circles as him when he was off the rails and took part in unscrupulous activities.
“And not just any man, Daniel,” Sarah said. “He’s dangerous. And he has a history of stalking and violence. Mr. Sanders said that he has been keeping an eye on him, and he noticed that the man has been stalking me.”
“What?! Why didn’t you tell me? This is something for the police to handle!”
A man hiding in the shadows | Source: Midjourney
But my wife shook her head.
“Mr. Sanders has been trying to keep Derril and me safe. Because he noticed the man watching me during a few practice sessions.”
I put my head in my hands. Suddenly, the world felt too heavy for me. What dramatic television show had our lives become?
A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney
“Mr. Sanders suggested not pushing him away too obviously to avoid raising suspicion. I should have told you, honey, I’m so sorry.”
“We need to speak to him,” I said. “To Mr. Sanders. I need to hear this from him.”
Sarah nodded, her eyes shining with tears.
When we met with him, he corroborated Sarah’s account, showing us evidence of the man’s criminal activities.
A couple talking | Source: Midjourney
“I’ve spoken to one of my detective friends,” he said. “They can’t do anything about this guy until something actually happens. So, I’ve been trying to keep an eye on Sarah and Derril. And the house.”
I had no idea what to say.
A close-up of a man | Source: Midjourney
That night, Sarah and I sat down in the living room, trying to discuss the next steps and how to secure our home. Moments later, Derril burst into our room, his face frozen in shock.
“There’s someone outside my window!” he shrieked.
“Phone the police,” I told Sarah.
A person looking out of a room window | Source: Midjourney
I rushed to his room, picking up the baseball bat that we displayed in the hallway. And sure enough, a shadowy figure was lurking near the tree not too far from Derril’s window.
Moments later, we heard sirens and saw the flashing lights of police cars. They arrived swiftly, surrounding the house and apprehending the man.
The officers confirmed that the lurker was indeed the man that Mr. Sanders had warned us about, and now, because he was caught, he was taken into custody.
Two police officers | Source: Midjourney
“I’m so sorry for the confusion or distress I caused,” Mr. Sanders said when he visited us the next day.
He brought a box of pastries that Derril dug into immediately.
“The thing is, I know his type. When I met him before, he would find a young successful woman and fixate on her. When I saw him at soccer practice, I knew that he was after Sarah.
A box of desserts | Source: Midjourney
“How do you know him?” I asked.
“I had a rough past, too,” Mr. Sanders said. “But I just got caught up with the wrong crowd. I didn’t do anything to this extent.”
We thanked Mr. Sanders for his help, and he left our home.
A man walking down a driveway | Source: Midjourney
Now that the threat was removed, Sarah and Derril seemed perfectly fine. But I still didn’t feel good about this. As grateful as I was to Mr. Sanders, there was something that just didn’t feel right about anything.
I wanted to leave. I didn’t feel safe. I didn’t want to stay here. I didn’t want my wife and child around Mr. Sanders.
A man looking out a window | Source: Midjourney
I Caught My Husband on Tinder and Messaged Him Using a Fake Account — He Thinks He’s Cheating, but It’s All Part of My Revenge Plan
Deception, betrayal, and a meticulously crafted plan for revenge are at the heart of my story. I thought I knew my husband until I stumbled upon his online escapades. Little did he know his secret affair was about to become the key to my liberation.
The day my friend sent me a link to my husband’s Tinder profile, I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Dexter, my husband of ten years, was out there pretending to be single, swiping left and right like a teenager. Fury, confusion, and betrayal hit me all at once.
As days went by, my anger turned cold and calculating. I knew I couldn’t just confront him and have a big fight. That wouldn’t solve anything, especially since I had no job and no source of income after years of taking care of the house and our kids.
I needed a plan. I decided to create a fake Tinder account using photos of a random woman. Let’s call her Leah. It was easy to set up, but finding Dexter’s profile took some time and a lot of nerves.
Finally, his profile came up, with him smiling that same smile that had once made me fall in love. I took a deep breath as I swiped right. Fortunately, we matched right away. GAME ON!
The first step was to build a connection. I knew everything about Dexter: his favorite movie (“The Godfather”), his favorite whiskey (Glenfiddich), and even his secret love for 80s pop music. Using Leah’s profile, I mirrored his interests and crafted a persona that would be irresistible to him.
I made sure to mention my love for “The Godfather” in my bio and put up a picture of Leah holding a glass of Glenfiddich. I knew exactly how to pull him in. We started chatting, and he took the bait. Our conversations were filled with flirty banter and deep talks about life.
“Wow, you love ‘The Godfather’ too?” Dexter messaged. “It’s my all-time favorite movie.”
I replied as Leah, “Yes, it’s a masterpiece! And Glenfiddich is my go-to drink while watching it. What about you?”
“Same here,” he wrote back. “Nothing beats a good movie and a great whiskey.”
He told Leah about his dreams and fears, things he hadn’t shared with me in years. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m stuck in a rut,” he confided one evening. “I have all these plans, but I can’t seem to make them happen.”
“I’m here for you,” I typed. “You can talk to me about anything.”
Every evening, I’d sit on the couch next to him, pretending to scroll through my phone while he texted Leah. It was surreal, living under the same roof and harboring so many secrets. I’d glance at him out of the corner of my eye, watching as he smiled at his phone, completely engrossed in his messages to Leah.
After a few weeks of daily chats, I knew he was hooked. It was time for phase two: gaining his trust. I started hinting at financial troubles, weaving tales of sudden car repairs and unexpected medical bills.
Over the next few days, I continued to spin stories of desperation to Dexter through Leah’s account. He was eager to help, wanting to be her knight in shining armor. It didn’t take long for him to start transferring money to the account I had set up.
“I don’t ever want you to feel alone, Leah. You can always count on me,” he texted Leah one day while sitting right next to me. “Remember, I’m only a message away.”
This Dexter that I had come to know as Leah was someone I didn’t recognize as Phoebe. It pained me to continue the game, but I knew I had to keep going.
Each sob story I fed him made him more determined to save this imaginary woman. Living this double life was exhausting but thrilling. Every day, I played the devoted wife, making breakfast for our kids and chatting with Dexter about his day at work.
Every night, I transformed into Leah, the damsel in distress who had him wrapped around her finger. “Dex, I don’t know how to thank you enough,” I texted. “You’ve been my rock through all of this.”
“I just want to see you happy,” he responded. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I watched as he fell deeper into the trap, blinded by his infatuation and guilt. He was constantly checking his phone, eager for Leah’s messages, completely unaware of the truth that lay just beneath the surface.
The third step was all about increasing the stakes. With his trust secured, I began to ask for larger amounts, weaving elaborate stories that played on his desire to be a hero. One evening, I texted him as Leah, “Dex, I don’t know what to do. My car broke down, and the repair costs are way more than I can afford. I’m so scared I’ll lose my job if I can’t get to work.”
He replied almost instantly, “Don’t worry, Leah. I’ll take care of it. How much do you need?”
“About $1,500,” I wrote back, holding my breath.
“Consider it done,” he replied, and minutes later, the money was in my account.
Each transaction brought me closer to my goal. I asked for help with rent and then “emergency” medical procedures for a sick family member. Dexter was more than willing to help, convinced he was the hero Leah needed. What he didn’t realize was that he was funding my escape.
While he was distracted by his affair, I meticulously planned my departure. I found a new place to live, made arrangements for the kids, and discreetly packed our essentials.
Every day, I gathered a little more evidence of his infidelity and financial transactions, making sure I had enough to protect myself if he tried to contest anything later. I took screenshots of our chats, saved copies of bank statements, and even recorded a few of our conversations where he talked about his “true feelings” for Leah.
“Leah, I feel like I can be honest with you,” he wrote one evening. “I’ve never felt this way before. You understand me in a way no one else does.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” I replied, heart pounding. “I care about you a lot, Dex.”
“I care about you too,” he responded. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we could be together for real. I know it sounds crazy, but I think I might be falling for you.”
Reading his confession, I felt a mix of anger and satisfaction. I saved the conversation, knowing it would be crucial later. He had no idea that his heartfelt messages were sealing his fate.
The final step was to reveal my plan. I knew the perfect way to do it. I sent him a final message from the fake account, arranging a meet-up at a fancy restaurant.
“Dex, I feel like we’ve known each other forever. I think it’s time we finally meet in person. How about dinner at The Grand at 8 p.m. this Friday?”
He replied within seconds, “I’ve been waiting for this moment, Leah. I’ll be there.”
On the day of the meeting, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves. This was it.
I dressed in my best outfit, a simple yet elegant black dress that Dexter always said was his favorite. I wanted to look my best when I confronted him. I arrived at The Grand a bit early and took a seat at a quiet corner table where I could see the entrance clearly.
I ordered a glass of wine and sat there, watching the clock tick closer to 8 p.m. Finally, Dexter walked in, looking around eagerly. He was wearing the suit I had bought him for our anniversary a few years ago. He looked nervous but excited, completely unaware of what was about to happen.
As he scanned the room, I stood up and walked over to him. “Dexter,” I said, my voice steady.
He turned, his eyes widening in shock. “Phoebe? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I replied, holding up a folder. “But I think you know.”
He looked at the folder, confusion and panic mixing on his face. “What’s that?”
“Let’s sit down,” I suggested, guiding him to the table I had been sitting at. He followed, still looking dazed.
Once we were seated, I placed the folder in front of him. “Open it,” I said.
With shaking hands, he opened the folder and began to go through the contents. Inside were screenshots of our conversations, evidence of his infidelity, and a detailed list of all the money he had sent to Leah’s account—my account. His face turned pale as he realized he had been played.
“I knew all along,” I said calmly, watching him. “This was my way of getting back at you and securing my freedom. The money you sent to your ‘lover’ will help me and the kids start a new life away from you.”
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and anger. “Phoebe, I can explain—”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I cut him off. “You betrayed me, Dexter. You made vows to me, and you broke them. Now, you’re going to face the consequences.”
He opened his mouth to argue but closed it again, realizing the evidence was undeniable. There was nothing he could say to make it better or take back what he had done.
I stood up, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “I’m leaving, Dexter. Don’t try to find us, and don’t think you can contest anything. I have all the evidence I need to make sure you don’t.”
He sat there, stunned, as I walked out of the restaurant. I felt a strange sense of satisfaction and freedom as I left him behind. That evening, I moved into our new home, taking the kids with me. The money I had accumulated ensured we were comfortable and had a fresh start.
The new place was cozy, nothing extravagant but perfect for us. The kids were a bit confused at first, but I explained it was a new adventure. They were excited about their new rooms, and I felt a sense of relief knowing we were safe and away from Dexter’s deceit.
Over the next few days, I settled into our new life. I enrolled the kids in a new school and started looking for a job. With the money Dexter had unwittingly provided, we were stable for the time being. I even found myself smiling more, feeling lighter than I had in years.
One evening, as I was tucking the kids into bed, my daughter looked up at me and said, “Mom, are we going to be okay?”
I smiled and kissed her forehead. “Yes, sweetheart. We’re going to be just fine.”
As I sat in the living room later, sipping a cup of tea, I reflected on everything that had happened. Revenge is best served cold, and Dexter learned that the hard way. He thought he was cheating, but he was just falling into my trap. Now, I am free, financially secure, and ready to move forward without him.
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