Emma’s life as a real estate agent was going well. Her career was thriving, and she made enough to enjoy the kind of life she had always dreamed of. But beneath the surface of her success, cracks had begun to form in her personal life. Her husband, James, had been growing distant—cold, distracted, and emotionally unavailable. The final blow came when his mistress unknowingly contacted Emma to rent an apartment for a romantic weekend getaway.
That morning, Emma sat at the kitchen table, carefully setting out breakfast for herself and James. The smell of fresh coffee filled the air, and the sizzle of eggs in the pan added a cozy touch to their usual routine.
She plated an omelet, added toast, and set the meal in front of James, hoping that even small gestures might spark something between them again.
Trying to keep things light, she ventured, “So, any thoughts on the weekend? There’s a new art exhibit opening downtown. Or we could catch that movie we talked about…”
Her voice was soft, inviting.
James barely lifted his gaze from his phone. “Maybe,” he muttered, eyes still glued to the screen.
Emma swallowed her disappointment. This had become the norm—her reaching out, trying to connect, while he withdrew further.
Then she noticed the name on his screen: “Lisa.” Alongside it, a woman’s photo.
Trying not to sound suspicious, she asked, “Who’s Lisa?”
He didn’t flinch. “Just a work friend. I’ve got a meeting out of town this weekend. I’ll be back Monday.”
Emma managed a polite smile. “Alright, safe trip.”
James kissed her cheek without emotion and grabbed his keys. The door shut behind him, and Emma stood alone in a kitchen that suddenly felt cold and lifeless.
Something didn’t feel right.
Later that day, Emma had a client meeting—someone interested in renting a high-end apartment for the weekend. She kept her focus, reminding herself that professionalism mattered. But her mind still lingered on that name: Lisa.
When the client finally arrived, Emma’s world tilted.
It was her—Lisa, the woman from James’s phone.
Emma’s pulse quickened, but she remained composed. She extended her hand with a cool, controlled smile.
“Nice to meet you, Lisa. Let me show you around.”
Lisa was cheerful, oblivious to Emma’s inner storm. As they toured the apartment, Emma asked casually, “Planning something special?”
Lisa beamed. “Spending the weekend with someone… special. We’ve finally got time to ourselves.”
Each word felt like a knife. So it was true. James wasn’t on a business trip—he was planning a romantic weekend with this woman.
Emma didn’t let it show. She stayed professional, finished the showing, and handed over the keys. Lisa left, unaware that she had just handed Emma all the confirmation she needed.
But Emma had also kept a copy of the key.
Later, she called James with a forced sweetness. “You coming home tonight?”
“No. I’m already on my way. Back Monday.”
The lies burned more than she’d expected, but she held it together.
She wasn’t going to cry. Not this time.
She was going to act.
That evening, she made another call.
“Everything’s set,” she said. “Meet me there at 8.”
The man on the other end agreed—Lisa’s boyfriend.
At 8 p.m. sharp, Emma arrived at the apartment with him beside her, both fueled by quiet rage. They slipped inside using the spare key and made their way down the hallway. Laughter drifted from the bedroom.
Then came the confrontation.
Lisa’s boyfriend kicked the door open, his voice thunderous. “What the hell is this?!”
Lisa screamed, scrambling to cover herself. James sat up, panic in his eyes, stammering excuses that only made things worse.
Emma stood in the doorway, calm, unreadable. James dropped to his knees. “Emma, I didn’t mean—”
She cut him off. “Remember that clause in the prenup? The one that gives me everything if you cheat?”
His face went white.
“I’ll send your things. Divorce papers included.”
She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving James stunned and Lisa speechless.
Justice had been served.
And Emma? She walked out stronger, ready to rebuild—on her own terms.