I thought proposing to Natalie would be the start of our forever. Instead, it was the beginning of a nightmare. It took weeks of betrayal to realize I’d never really known her at all.
I felt my heart pounding as I knelt down on one knee in our living room. “Natalie,” I said, holding up the small velvet box, “will you marry me?” Her eyes went wide with surprise, then softened as she smiled.
A man proposing his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, yes, of course, yes!” she cried, tears welling up in her eyes. She threw her arms around me, and I slipped the ring onto her finger. It sparkled just the way I’d hoped. I stood up, and we embraced, imagining the future we’d always talked about.
It felt perfect. We’d been together for two years, and it seemed like we wanted the same things—marriage, a family, a home. “We’ve always been on the same page,” I thought. “Same values, same future plans.”
A couple hugging | Source: Midjourney
For the next week, everything was blissful. We told our families, and everyone was excited for us. We started talking about wedding plans, making lists, and dreaming of our future together.
Then, out of nowhere, things started getting weird.
A couple planning their wedding | Source: Midjourney
One night, I came home from work and found six women in my kitchen. I stopped in my tracks, confused. The countertops were covered with all the fancy food I’d been saving—caviar, fine cheeses, imported snacks—the works.
Natalie turned to me, smiling like everything was normal. “Oh, hey! You’re home!”
I looked at her, then at the women, then back at her. “Who are they? I thought I knew all your friends.”
An angry man in his living room | Source: Midjourney
She just laughed. “These are my inner circle. I didn’t introduce them earlier because I wanted to wait until we were a ‘sure thing.’”
They just nodded, barely acknowledging me. I watched one of them scoop out the last bit of caviar onto a cracker, and my stomach tightened. I pulled Natalie aside.
“I was saving that stuff for a special night. Why didn’t you ask me first?”
She waved her hand, brushing it off like it was nothing. “Don’t be such a buzzkill, David. It’s just food. We can buy more.”
A smiling woman brushing the subject off | Source: Midjourney
I bit my tongue, not wanting to start a fight. But it bothered me that she didn’t seem to care how I felt about it.
A few days later, it happened again. I came home to find the same group of women lounging on the couch, watching TV. More of my expensive snacks were gone. I felt my frustration building.
I waited until they left before saying anything. “Look, maybe next time we can plan this out? You didn’t even ask me.”
A man having a serious talk with his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney
Natalie sighed, rolling her eyes at me. “You’re such a buzzkill. They’re my friends, and this is my home too now.”
I didn’t know how to respond. Was I being unreasonable? We were engaged, so maybe this was what sharing a life was supposed to look like. But it still didn’t feel right.
After the fourth unannounced visit, I finally snapped. “I’m locking up the fridge, Natalie. I’m serious.”
A serious man standing next to his fridge | Source: Midjourney
She just laughed. “You’re no fun,” she said, waving me off. “You’re acting like it’s the end of the world.”
Then she insisted I come to dinner with her “inner circle” at a fancy restaurant. I agreed, hoping it would help smooth things over, but the dinner was a disaster. She’d chosen a fancy restaurant, and I had agreed, thinking it might smooth things over after the last few weeks.
But the moment I walked in, I knew I’d made a mistake.
A woman in a restaurant | Source: Pexels
They were already seated when we arrived. The women were dressed up, sipping on expensive cocktails. As soon as I sat down, the questions started.
“So, David, what exactly do you do again?” one of them asked, leaning forward with a sharp smile.
“I work in finance,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.
Another one chimed in, her voice dripping with curiosity. “Finance, huh? That must be good money. What kind of house do you have?”
Women dining | Source: Pexels
I blinked, surprised by how direct they were. “I have a place just outside the city.”
“Must be nice,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “How much did it cost?”
I hesitated. “I’d rather not discuss that.”
They exchanged glances, then changed the subject. But every time I asked them something, they dodged it.
A smiling woman in a cafe | Source: Pexels
“So, what do you do?” I asked the one across from me.
“Oh, you know, a little of this, a little of that,” she said with a vague smile.
“Where are you from?” I tried again.
“Here and there,” another one said, shrugging.
A humble woman in a restaurant | Source: Pexels
I felt like I was being stonewalled, but they kept digging into my life, my money, my plans for the future. Natalie just sat there, smiling like everything was fine. I couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t the woman I knew. The woman I fell in love with had clear boundaries and respected mine. This was a complete stranger.
Then the conversation took a turn that left me speechless. They started talking about relationships, modern ones, and what they called “evolving dynamics.”
Women talking in a restaurant | Source: Pexels
“Polyamory is so misunderstood,” one of them said, twirling her wine glass. “It’s all about love without limits.”
“Yeah, and staying friends with exes. It’s just being mature, right?” another added.
I glanced at Natalie, expecting her to be as uncomfortable as I was, but she was nodding along. “I mean, we shouldn’t be too hasty about these things,” she said lightly.
A man looking at women at the table | Source: Pexels
I nearly choked on my drink. “What?” I said, staring at her. “You’ve always been clear about wanting monogamy. And you’ve never been into staying friends with exes.”
She looked at me with a small, tight smile. “People can change, David. It’s important to keep an open mind.”
I felt like the ground had shifted beneath me. Who was this person? The woman sitting next to me, agreeing with all these strangers, wasn’t the Natalie I knew. I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat there, feeling completely blindsided.
A shocked man in the restaurant | Source: Midjourney
When the bill came, I was already planning my exit. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. But then one of the women slid the bill across the table towards me.
“You can cover this, right?” she said, almost like it was an order.
I stared at her, then looked at Natalie, waiting for her to say something.
She just shrugged. “Come on, you’re the guy.”
A man talking to the woman | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t believe it. My jaw tightened, but I didn’t want to make a scene. I paid for my part and stood up. “I’m done here,” I said, feeling utterly disrespected. I walked out without looking back.
The next day, I tried to talk to Natalie, but she brushed it off, saying I was being “fragile” and “toxic.” She apologized, blaming it on work stress, but I wasn’t buying it. Something was off, and I could feel it.
Then came the incident with the golf clubs.
Golf clubs in a bag | Source: Pexels
I was at work when I got an alert from my Nest Doorbell. I checked the footage and saw Natalie and one of her friends carrying my golf clubs out of the house. My expensive set, the one my dad gave me.
I called her immediately. “Natalie, why are my golf clubs leaving the house?”
She sounded annoyed. “Oh, I told you I was lending them to Emily’s boyfriend, remember?”
“No, you didn’t,” I said, feeling the anger rise. “Get them back here now.”
A man arguing with a woman | Source: Midjourney
She tried to argue, insisting that I’d agreed, but I cut her off. “You have one hour to return them, or I’m calling the cops.”
Forty-five minutes later, they were back, but they were dumped carelessly on the living room floor. No apology, no explanation. Just complete disregard for something that meant a lot to me.
I confronted her, but she started talking about my “toxicity” again. I’d had enough. “If this is your true self, maybe I made a mistake.”
A woman shouting at the man | Source: Midjourney
She freaked out, begging for another chance, blaming it on stress again. But I was done. I didn’t want to hear any more excuses.
The final straw came when she planned a party at my house without asking. I told her no, but she ignored me. So, on the day of the party, I changed the locks and went to a friend’s house.
My phone blew up with 14 missed calls.
“How dare you change the locks when I’ve got 15 people waiting outside?” she shouted when I finally answered.
A woman shouting into her phone | Source: Midjourney
“I told you no party, Natalie. Actions have consequences. We’re done.”
I hung up, went home, and walked past the confused guests standing outside. I locked the door behind me and blocked her number.
And that was it. The engagement was over. The woman I thought I knew was gone, replaced by someone I couldn’t trust. I felt a strange sense of relief as I locked the door behind me, shutting out the chaos and reclaiming my life.
A calm man in his living room | Source: Midjourney
I sat in the living room, the silence almost jarring after weeks of chaos. The ring sat on the coffee table, a small reminder of what I thought we had. I stared at it for a moment, then leaned back, feeling a sense of peace and clarity I hadn’t felt in a long time.
My Cheating Husband Told Me I am Hideous And Ugly. I Gave him a Taste of His Own Medicine
I still remember the day vividly. His words cut deeper than any blade ever could. “You should be grateful I stay with you because nobody else could stand looking at that hideous face every day.” His cruel comment replayed in my mind like a broken record. At 67, I knew I wasn’t as young as I once was, but I had always believed in my inner and outer beauty. When I dressed up and put effort into my appearance, I still caught a look or two from strangers. His betrayal and harsh words completely shattered my self-esteem.
I was devastated. This was the man I had loved, the father of our four children, the person I had devoted my life to. How could he be so cruel? For days, I was in a daze, hurt and saddened by his words and actions. But then, a realization hit me. This man didn’t love me anymore. He thought that because we were old, he could do whatever he wanted without consequences.
“Okay, Mister Martin,” I thought to myself. “Let’s play it your way. I will make you regret this.”
The Perfect Facade
For the next three days, I played the role of the perfect wife. I served him his meals on time, cleaned the house meticulously, and even showed him extra respect. The satisfaction on his petty little face was almost unbearable. He thought he had won, that he had put me in my place. Little did he know, I was just setting the stage for what was to come.
Behind the scenes, I was planning my revenge. I spent hours researching and thinking of ways to hit him where it hurt the most. The first step was to gather evidence of his infidelity. With the help of a private investigator, I collected photographs, messages, and even videos of his escapades.
The Day of Reckoning
The very next day after my perfect facade, I executed my plan. It started like any other day. I made him breakfast, kissed him goodbye as he left for work, and waited patiently. When he came home, he was greeted by our children, all four of them. They had no idea what was about to happen, but I needed them there for what was to come next.
I gathered everyone in the living room and handed out envelopes containing the evidence of his infidelity. As they opened them, the room filled with gasps and shocked expressions. Martin’s face turned from confusion to horror as he realized what was happening.
For Illustrative purpose only
“Martin, you thought you could humiliate me and get away with it?” I said, my voice steady and strong. “You thought I would just sit back and let you walk all over me? You’re wrong. I’ve had enough.”
I looked at our children, their eyes wide with disbelief. “This man,” I continued, “has betrayed not only me but our entire family. He doesn’t deserve our love or respect.”
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