After my husband left me, I discovered hed been cheating with my best friend. Three years later, I ran into them at a petrol station and couldnt stop smiling
When my marriage began to crumble, I turned to my closest friend for comfort. She told me I was imagining things, but as it turned out, she was lying. Fate gave me a glimpse of their betrayals aftermath three years later.
I always thought infidelity happened to other peoplesomething you read about in dramatic novels or overhear in whispered gossip at dinner parties. Not to me. Not to us.
For five years, Oliver and I built a life together. It wasnt extravagant, but it was ourscosy evenings watching films on the sofa, Sunday morning coffee runs, inside jokes only we understood.
Throughout it all, there was Emilymy best friend since secondary school, like a sister to me. She was there for every milestone, even standing beside me as a bridesmaid at my wedding, squeezing my hands and crying happy tears.
When I got pregnant, I thought it would be another beautiful chapter in our love story.
But then Oliver changed.
At first, it was little thingsstaying late at work, smiles that never reached his eyes. Then it got worse. He barely looked at me. Conversations shrank to one-word answers. Nights spent with his back turned, as if I werent even there.
I didnt understand. I was exhausted, heavily pregnant, desperately trying to fix what was breaking between us.
So I called Emily.
I dont know whats happening, I sobbed into the phone, curled up in the dark while Oliver slept soundly beside me. It feels like hes already left.
Youre overthinking, she said gently. He loves you. Its just stress.
I wanted to believe her.
But the relentless tensionsleepless nights, anxiety, loneliness despite being marriedwore 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. He sat beside my hospital bed, cold and silent, never holding my hand, never offering comfort. Just waiting, as if for a bus, not mourning the loss of our child.
A month later, he finally said the words I think hed rehearsed for ages.
Im not happy anymore, Sophie.
That was it. No explanations. No emotion. Just an empty dismissal.
The day Oliver left was without shouting, without tears. Just icy silence.
Im not happy anymore, Sophie.
I blinked at him across the kitchen table, his words pressing like a weight on my chest.
What? My voice trembled.
He sighed, rubbing his temples as if *I* were the problem.
I dont feel anything. Not for a long time.
*Not for a long time.*
I swallowed hard.
Since we lost the baby?
His jaw tightened.
Thats not the point.
The lie was almost laughable.
I searched his face for regret, guilt, *anything*. But he just sat there, eyes down.
So thats it? Five years, and you just walk away? My hands clenched under the table.
He sighed again, impatient now.
I dont want to argue, Sophie.
A bitter laugh escaped me.
Oh, you dont *want* to argue? Funny, because I never had a choice in any of this.
He stood, grabbing his keys.
Ill stay with friends.
Before I could respond, the door slammed.
Emily, my so-called best friend, followed soon after. The one person I leaned on vanishedignoring calls, blocking me everywhere.
I didnt understand until the truth came out.
Mum found out first. One evening, she called, her voice tight.
Sophie, love look at this.
She sent a link to Emilys Instagram.
And there they were.
Oliver and Emily. Arms around each other on a beach, laughing like theyd been in love for years.
My hands shook as I scrolled. Photo after photo, week after week. Fancy restaurants, ski trips, cosy nights by the fireplace. She *flaunted* itall while I was still his wife.
The betrayal burned like acid. But if they thought this would destroy me, they were wrong.
I took my pain and turned it into power. Oliver had been careless, too wrapped up in his fantasy to cover his tracks. In court, his infidelity became my winning card. I kept the house, half his savings, and the satisfaction of knowing he had to start over.
He took my trust. I took what was mine.
Starting over wasnt easy. But life rewards those who endure.
A year later, I met Daniel.
He was everything Oliver wasntkind, attentive, never dismissing my feelings. We built a real life, not one for show. Soon, our daughter arrivedmy mirror image with his smile.
Then fate gave me the perfect ending.
One evening, I stopped at a petrol station. And there they were.
Oliver and Emily.
No designer clothes, no glamorous photos now. Their cara rusted junkheap. A public row at the counter, a crying child, a declined card.
We cant even afford petrol? Emily whined.
You knew we were struggling, Oliver snapped.
Emily scoffed.
Guess Sophie won this one.
I started the engine and drove home. To my real happiness.
