After years of trying to keep my marriage from falling apart, I thought the worst thing I could discover was my husband’s infidelity. But nothing could have prepared me for the humiliation of watching him flaunt his mistress in front of me—or for the surprising ally who stepped forward when I needed it most.
I never imagined my marriage would unravel this way. Joren turned our private struggles into a public disaster. If I’d seen his true character sooner, maybe the shock wouldn’t have been so brutal.
To give some background—Joren and I had been married for five years. The early days were full of love, laughter, and teamwork. But once we started struggling to have a child, everything changed. The pressure crushed me. My mental health plummeted, and I blamed myself constantly.
Instead of standing by me, Joren distanced himself. He obsessed over “self-improvement”—long hours at the gym, flashy new toys, and a shiny car—while I felt like I was falling apart.
Last night, my best friend Veda insisted on dragging me out of the house. Joren claimed he’d be at the gym late, so we went to a jazz club downtown. The soft music and cozy atmosphere were exactly what I needed. Veda had me laughing, for the first time in weeks.
Then her expression froze. “Celine… is that Joren?” she whispered.
Before I even turned, my heart dropped. And there he was—at a table with another woman draped all over him, whispering in his ear while she giggled.
I never thought I’d confront anyone like that, but my body moved on instinct. I stormed up, shaking with rage. “Joren, are you serious right now?!”
He looked startled for a second before breaking into a smug smile. “Well, guess it’s about time you found out,” he said coolly, while the woman—Lila—smirked at me like she’d just won a prize.
Joren didn’t even try to explain. “It’s better this way. I’m done sneaking around. I’m in love with someone else. We’re over.”
No remorse. No shame. Just arrogance. I stood frozen, unable to cry or scream. Veda grabbed my arm, promising Joren would regret this, and pulled me outside.
The next morning, I went home hoping he’d cooled down. Instead, my belongings were dumped across the lawn like garbage. Joren and Lila stood on the porch, grinning.
“This house belonged to my grandfather,” Joren sneered. “You’ve got no right to it. Take your stuff and get out.”
The cruelty was like a knife. I stuffed what I could into my car, burning with shame, while Lila watched gleefully. She even mocked me: “I can’t wait to renovate this old dump.”
Then, out of nowhere, a black sedan pulled up. Out stepped Mr. Roland—Joren’s grandfather. Tough, sharp, and respected by everyone, he’d always treated me with kindness.
He took one look at the scene—my things on the grass, Lila on the porch—and his face hardened. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.
When Joren stumbled through excuses, Mr. Roland cut him off. “So, you throw my granddaughter-in-law out to move this woman in? Not a chance. This house is mine. Celine stays—you leave. And you’re cut off. No more money, no more support. If you want to disgrace this family for a fling, you can do it on your own dime.”
Joren went pale, but Mr. Roland didn’t back down. Within minutes, Joren and Lila were gone.
Inside, Mr. Roland explained why he’d come—he’d wanted to offer financial help for IVF treatments. My chest ached with gratitude, but he shook his head. “From now on, this house is yours. I’ll put it in your name. Consider it my apology for not raising him better.”
And he did. Within days, the deed was signed over to me. Meanwhile, Joren’s new girlfriend dumped him once she realized the money was gone. He ended up couch-hopping, broke and bitter.
A week later, he showed up at my door, unshaven and desperate. “Celine, I messed up. I’ve got nothing. Please talk to Grandpa—he’ll listen to you.”
I stared at him, remembering the smug grin he wore while throwing me out. “No,” I said firmly. “You made your choices. Live with them.” Then I shut the door in his face.
Maybe someday I’ll pity him. But right now? The satisfaction of watching karma catch up to him feels better than anything I could have imagined.
I love the stories, even the old rereads. Thank you.