MY HUSBAND HAD BEEN SECRETLY TRANSFERRING MONEY FROM OUR JOINT ACCOUNT TO MY BEST FRIEND FOR MONTHS — I TAUGHT THEM A PERFECT LESSON
I was curled up on the couch, Eric’s laptop on my lap, browsing for a warm jacket for our son. Just as I was about to finalize my purchase, a notification popped up.
Claire—my best friend. Why was Eric sending her money?
A chill ran through me as I checked our joint account. My stomach dropped. Hundreds, sometimes thousands, sent to Claire.
Every month. For seven months.
I opened his messages.
Claire: “I wish I was your wife. I hate asking, but Jake cut my allowance again.”
Eric: “I love you. I’ll take care of you.”
Not just an affair. He was supporting her—with our money.
Rage hit me, but I swallowed it. Screaming wouldn’t fix this. I needed revenge.
For two days, I played along. Kissed Eric goodbye. Took Claire’s calls. Listened to her complain about Jake—her devoted husband.
So, I sent him a message:
“Claire has a surprise for you tomorrow. We’re hosting a BBQ—her secret recipe, your favorite. Come home early! Don’t tell her I said anything.”
Then, I drained the account. Not enough to be obvious—just enough to leave him panicking.
The morning of my plan, I kissed Eric sweetly. “I love you.”
Liar.
That evening, I parked down the street. Right on time, Jake’s truck pulled up.
Knock.
The door swung open—Claire, in nothing but a silk robe.
Jake’s eyes flicked past her. Saw Eric, shirtless, drink in hand.
Silence.
Then—explosion.
I didn’t stick around, but later, I heard it was spectacular.
When I got home, I poured a glass of wine and waited.
Eric stormed in. “You set me up!”
I sipped my wine. “Did I?”
“You emptied the account!”
“I just took what was mine. You were giving our money to Claire—I corrected the balance.”
His face paled.
“You can’t leave me with nothing!”
I smiled. “I can. And I did. Maybe Claire can help, but I doubt Jake will be paying her bills anymore.”
And with that, I walked out.
The divorce was swift. The judge had zero sympathy.
Eric lost a lot. Claire lost more.
Jake left her, and with no job or savings, she struggled.
Me? Full custody. A fresh start. And every time I think back to that night—Claire’s silk robe, Jake’s rage, Eric’s dumbfounded face—I smile.
They thought I’d cry.
Instead, I let them destroy themselves.
And I walked away with everything.
