Cleaning the bathroom on a mundane Tuesday evening was never fun, but it had to be done. As I scrubbed the toilet, I noticed the water kept running after flushing.

Annoyed, I opened the tank to check. Wrapped in a plastic bag was a cheap burner phone. My heart raced as I dried it off and turned it on.

“Password,” I muttered. Easy guess, our wedding date. It worked.

My hands shook as I scrolled through the text messages. The sender: Lola. Explicit conversations between her and my husband, Matt, filled the screen.

I felt sick reading about their plans to meet at that fancy downtown restaurant on Friday night. I dropped the phone, almost breaking it, but caught it just in time.

“Jenna, you got this,” I whispered to myself, trying to keep calm.

Carefully, I wrapped the phone back up and replaced it in the toilet tank. I made sure it looked undisturbed before leaving the bathroom. As I walked into the kitchen, I encountered Matt, who was rummaging through the fridge.

“Hey, babe, what’s for dinner?” he asked, glancing up.

I plastered on a smile. “Thinking of making pasta. How’s work?”

“Busy,” he said, kissing my cheek. “Lots of meetings this week.”

“Friday too?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Yeah, another late one,” he replied, not even looking me in the eye. I nodded, pretending to believe him.

As soon as he left the room, I texted Nicole and Tara, my closest friends, and Lucas, my brother who’s a lawyer. We met up that night at Nicole’s place.

Nicole poured the wine. “What’s the plan, Jenna?”

“Revenge,” I said, feeling the anger rise again. “But I need it to be smart.”

Tara shook her head, furious on my behalf. “Men are such pigs. We need to catch him red-handed.”

Lucas, always the calm one, nodded. “You have to protect yourself too, Jenna. Know your rights. This could get messy.”

We spent hours brainstorming. By the end of the night, I had a plan. Lucas gave me a quick rundown of what to say if things went south legally. I was grateful he had my back.

Friday came quicker than I wanted. Matt left, claiming it was another work meeting. “Good luck,” I said with a fake smile, my stomach churning.

The moment he was out the door, I grabbed my phone. Kelly, a friend who worked at the restaurant, had already secured a table right next to Matt’s. She sent a text confirming the reservation.

“Showtime,” I muttered, putting on my best dress and heading out.

The adrenaline was like a second heartbeat as I arrived at the restaurant with Lucas, Nicole, and Tara. Each step felt like a countdown. We were seated near the entrance, a perfect spot to watch Matt walk in. I could barely sit still, my hands gripping the table’s edge.

Lucas leaned over. “You sure about this?”

I nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah, it’s time.”