**Diary Entry**
When my husband left me, I never imagined hed betray me with my closest friend. Yet three years later, fate led me to them at a petrol station, and I couldnt help but smile.
After our separation, I learned hed chosen my school friend over me. For months, I turned to her for comfort, only to realise shed been lyingcovering for their affair. Funny how life works. Id always thought infidelity happened to other people, something whispered over dinner or dramatised in films. Not to me. Not to us.
For five years, Oliver and I built a lifenothing extravagant, just ours. Cosy film nights on the sofa, Sunday morning coffee runs, inside jokes only we understood. My best mate, Emily, was part of it all. She stood by me at our wedding, holding my hand, laughing and crying like a sister.
When I fell pregnant, I thought itd be another beautiful chapter. But Oliver changed.
At first, small thingslate nights at work, smiles that never reached his eyes. Then worse. He barely looked at me. Conversations became one-word replies. Nights spent with his back turned.
Exhausted and heavily pregnant, I called Emily. “I dont understand,” I sobbed into the phone. “It feels like hes already gone.”
“Youre overthinking,” she said gently. “He loves you. Its just stress.”
I wanted to believe her.
But the sleepless nights, the loneliness despite being marriedit wore me down. Then, one morning, I woke in agony. By evening, I was in hospital, watching the doctors lips move but hearing nothing.
No heartbeat.
No baby.
They say grief comes in waves. Mine was an avalanche.
The miscarriage shattered me, but Oliver? He was already gone. Sat cold and silent beside my hospital bed, never taking my hand, never offering comfort. Just waiting, as if for a bus, not mourning our child.
A month later, he finally said the words I suspect hed rehearsed:
“Im not happy anymore, Sophie.”
No explanations, no emotion. Just emptiness.
The day he left was eerily quietno shouting, no tears. Just the click of the front door.
Emily, my rock, vanished soon after. Ignored my calls. Blocked me online. Then, Mum rang one evening, voice tight. “Sophie, love look at this.”
A link to Emilys Instagram.
There they were. Oliver and Emily. Grinning on a beach, wrapped around each other like theyd been in love for years. Fancy dinners, ski trips, cosy nights by the fireall flaunted publicly while I was still his wife.
The betrayal burned, but if they thought itd destroy me, they were wrong.
I channelled the pain into strength. Oliver, careless in his new fantasy, left behind evidence. In court, his infidelity became my leverage. I kept the house, half his savings, and the satisfaction of knowing hed have to start over.
He stole my trust. I took what was mine.
Rebuilding wasnt easy, but life rewards resilience.
A year later, I met James. Different from Oliver in every waykind, patient, never dismissing my feelings. We built a real life, not one for show. Soon, our daughter arrivedmy mirror image with his smile.
Then fate delivered the perfect ending.
One evening, I stopped at a petrol station. And there they were.
Oliver and Emily.
No designer clothes, no happy photos now. Just a rusted car, a screaming child, an empty bank card.
“Not even enough for petrol?” Emily whined.
“You knew money was tight,” Oliver snapped.
Emily laughed bitterly. “Guess Sophie won this one.”
I started the engine and drove hometo my real love, my real life.
**Lesson:** Karma doesnt rush, but it always delivers. And sometimes, the best revenge is simply moving on.
