MY HUSBAND TRADED OUR FAMILY OF FOUR FOR HIS MISTRESS — 3 YEARS LATER, I MET THEM AGAIN, AND IT WAS PERFECTLY SATISFYING.
14 years of marriage. Two kids.
A shared life I thought was perfect. It’s funny how quickly everything can crumble.
That moment came when Stan walked through the door one evening, not alone.
He had a woman with him — tall, glamorous, with a smile so sharp it could cut glass. I was in the kitchen, stirring soup, when I heard her heels.
“WELL, DARLING,” she said, giving me a once-over. “YOU WEREN’T EXAGGERATING. SHE REALLY LET HERSELF GO. SUCH A SHAME — DECENT BONE STRUCTURE, THOUGH.”
I froze. “Excuse me?”
Stan sighed, like I was the inconvenience. “LAUREN, I WANT A DIVORCE.”
The room spun. “A divorce? What about our kids? What about our life?”
“You’ll manage. I’ll send money,” he shrugged. “Oh, and you can sleep on the couch or go to your sister’s. Miranda’s staying over,” he added.
That night, I packed, took the kids, and left. Divorce followed. We sold the house, downsized, and tried to rebuild. Stan disappeared — not just from me, but from the kids. At first, he would send money for their food and clothes, but eventually, he stopped. The kids didn’t see him for more than two years. He didn’t just abandon me; he abandoned them too.
But one day, while walking home with groceries, I suddenly saw them, Stan and Miranda, and my heart froze. As I got closer, I realized that karma TRULY DOES EXIST. I immediately called my mom. “MOM, YOU WON’T BELIEVE THIS!”
As I watched Stan and Miranda from across the street, my heart raced, not with the pain or anger I used to feel, but with a sense of poetic justice. They didn’t notice me at first. They were too busy arguing—loudly and publicly. Miranda’s sharp, glamorous edges seemed to have dulled over the years. Her once pristine hair was messy, her expensive outfit wrinkled, and her face twisted in frustration.
Stan didn’t look any better. His suit was cheap and ill-fitted, his face lined with stress, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. He wasn’t the confident man who had traded his family for a “better” life. No, this was a man beaten down by his choices. And their argument? It was the kind that made passersby cringe.
I crossed the street, holding my groceries, and just as I was about to pass by, Miranda turned and spotted me. Her eyes widened in recognition, and she nudged Stan, who looked over. His face froze. If he was expecting the broken woman he left behind, he was in for a surprise.
Because I had rebuilt myself. I wasn’t the woman standing in the kitchen, stirring soup, and crying over betrayal anymore. I had found my strength. My kids and I had built a life together—one filled with laughter, love, and a freedom I hadn’t realized I was missing. I was healthier, happier, and more confident than I had been in years.
“Lauren?” Stan said, his voice cracking slightly.
“Stan,” I replied coolly, looking him up and down. “Miranda.”
Miranda crossed her arms, trying to regain some of her old superiority. “Well, you’re looking… decent, I suppose.”
I smiled, sweet but sharp. “And you’re looking… well, let’s just say life seems to be taking its toll.”
Stan cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, uh, how have you been?”
“Wonderful,” I said, with an edge of satisfaction. “The kids are thriving. Lily’s on the honor roll, and Jake just made captain of his soccer team.”
Stan shifted uncomfortably. He had no idea what was going on in their lives. “That’s… great to hear.”
“Isn’t it?” I said, letting the silence hang for a moment. “How about you two? Seems like you’re having a… lively discussion.”
Miranda scoffed. “If you must know, someone”—she shot Stan a glare—“has managed to lose most of his money on bad investments. And let’s not even talk about his failed business ventures. It’s been… exhausting.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? That’s surprising. Stan always made it seem like he was a financial genius.”
Stan flushed red, muttering something about the economy. Miranda, however, wasn’t done.
“And don’t even get me started on his parenting skills—or lack thereof,” she continued, rolling her eyes. “Not that it matters, since he never sees his kids anyway.”
Stan’s head snapped toward her. “Miranda, that’s enough.”
“No, Stan, it’s not enough,” I said, stepping closer, my voice steady but firm. “You abandoned your kids. You walked out on your family without a second thought. And for what? A woman who now clearly regrets her decision just as much as you do.”
Miranda’s jaw dropped, but she didn’t deny it. Stan just stood there, silent and defeated.
I looked at them both, feeling something I hadn’t expected: pity. Not for what they did, but for the emptiness they now lived in. They had built their relationship on selfishness and deceit, and it had crumbled under the weight of their choices.
“Well,” I said, adjusting my bag of groceries, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a life to get back to. My kids are waiting for me—something you wouldn’t understand, Stan. Take care.”
I turned and walked away, my head held high, feeling lighter with every step. As I rounded the corner, I called my mom back.
“Mom, you were right,” I said, laughing. “I didn’t need to do anything. Life took care of it for me. And it was… perfectly satisfying.”
