I Was Babysitting Her Kids While She Slept With My Husband — But Her Secret Became My Best Revenge
People always said I was “too nice.” That I gave too much. That I was the kind of woman who forgave even when she shouldn’t.
They were right.
I used to believe that if you were good, good things would come back to you. That love, once given, would last forever.
But all that changed after the wedding. That warmth Jack used to show me? It disappeared like a dream you can’t remember. These days, he barely looked at me. Always lying on the couch, glued to his phone like it was more interesting than the woman who’d married him.
We used to go on evening walks. He used to hold my hand. He used to ask, “Wanna grab dinner tonight, Marie?”
Now? Nothing.
That night, I stood by the door with my coat on. I stared at him. Waiting. Hoping.
He didn’t even glance up.
I tried anyway. “Jack, do you remember when we used to talk about taking a little weekend trip together?”
He sighed, eyes locked on his screen. “Why are you bringing this up again, Marie? I have work tomorrow.”
My voice cracked. “We don’t even eat together anymore.”
Jack just shrugged. “We’re in the same house. What more do you want?”
I turned away without another word. I didn’t cry, though. Not yet.
Then my phone buzzed.
It was Linda — my sister.
“Marie!” she shouted into the phone like we were in a stadium. “Hey, can you come babysit tonight? Please, please, please? You’re my angel!”
I sighed. “Linda… I just watched the kids three nights ago. I stayed until midnight.”
“Oh, don’t be dramatic! You know I don’t have a husband anymore. I need time to rebuild. Before I end up old and dry like a raisin!”
She laughed like it was funny. “Come on! You’ve got Jack. I’ve got nothing!”
I glanced at Jack — still on the couch, scrolling.
“Fine. Thirty minutes.”
“Knew you’d say yes! You’re the best!” She hung up before I could change my mind.
I grabbed my bag and said, “I’m heading to Linda’s again. Her kids need someone.”
Jack yawned. “Do whatever you want. I don’t care.”
At Linda’s
The house was quiet when I arrived. The kids were already asleep. I sat on the couch with a cup of lukewarm tea, staring at the clock. Two in the morning. No text. No call.
Seven hours, Linda. What kind of “meeting” lasts that long?
I checked on the kids. Billy snored softly under his dinosaur blanket. Cindy had her thumb in her mouth, hugging her raggedy stuffed monkey.