, agreed with him on everything, and played the perfect, supportive wife.

But every spare moment, I was digging. I checked his emails, scrolled through his bank statements, and even peeked at his social media.

What I found left no doubt: Anna wasn’t lying. Jake was using me to fund his little fantasy life with her.

But I wasn’t about to let him get away with it. By the time he realized what I’d done, his world would come crashing down.

The morning that everything unraveled was perfect!

Sunlight poured through the windows, birds chirped outside, and I sipped my coffee with a calm I hadn’t felt in weeks. Jake stumbled into the kitchen, yawning when he flicked the light switch.

Nothing happened. “Hey, the electricity’s off,” he grumbled, scratching his head.

“Huh, that’s weird,” I said casually, taking another sip of coffee.

He squinted at me, clearly annoyed, but before he could say anything else, his phone buzzed on the counter. He picked it up and frowned at the screen.

“The landlord says we have to move out in two weeks. What the hell is going on?”

“Oh, about that,” I said, setting my cup down and folding my hands neatly on the table. “Since I’m paying all the bills now, I thought it’d be smarter to downsize.

I found a cute little one-bedroom apartment. For me. You’re not on the lease, so you’ll need to figure out where to live.”

Jake froze, blinking at me like I’d just slapped him.

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you crazy?”

I smiled sweetly. “Nope.

Just practical. Oh, and the savings account?” I gestured toward his phone. “I transferred it all to my account.

Consider it fair compensation for the cooking, cleaning, and laundry I’ve been doing for free.”

His face turned a deep shade of red. “You can’t do that!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “That’s our money!”

“Correction: It was my money too.

But now it’s just mine.” I stood, grabbing my keys off the counter. “Good luck saving for ‘our future,’ Jake. Or should I say your future?

Because I’m not part of it anymore.”

As I started toward the door, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen, and his face paled. Anna.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Better answer that,” I said, pulling the door open. “She seems high-maintenance. I’m sure she’ll love hearing why her fancy downtown apartment isn’t happening.”

Jake started sputtering something, but I didn’t wait to hear it.

I walked out, letting the door slam behind me, leaving Jake and his mess of life behind for good.

Two weeks later, I was sipping wine on the balcony of my cozy new apartment, enjoying the quiet that came with living alone. The chaos of the last month already felt like a distant memory.

I’d heard through mutual friends that Jake was couch-surfing, frantically trying to save enough for a deposit on a new place. Apparently, Anna dumped him the second she realized his “savings” were gone.

Poetic justice, if you ask me.

A text pinged on my phone. It was from one of those mutual friends: “Jake’s crashing at Tom’s. He’s been telling everyone you ruined his life.

Thought you’d want to know.”

I laughed out loud, setting the phone down. For the first time in years, I felt free—free from his selfishness, his manipulation, and his so-called “future.”

Lifting my glass, I whispered to myself with a smile, “Here’s to my future, Jake. You’re not in it.”

🤔🤔🤔

Source: amomama