No strings attached- getting revenge on my cheating husband

LISELLE “Your husband has been sleeping with your best friend for six months.” I stared at Drew Barron. Then I looked at the photographs scattered across my coffee table, hoping I had somehow misunderstood what he had just said. Aaron was in every single one. There was one with his hand on Cassie’s waist. One with him kissing her outside a hotel. And another when he walked into her apartment with the same suit he had worn to our anniversary dinner three weeks ago. In the last photograph, Cassie was wearing my silk robe. My silk Victoria secret robe!!!!!! I picked up the picture, my fingers tightening around its edges as I studied the bedroom behind her. I had been there countless times. I had slept in that bed during girls’ nights, borrowed her bathroom when we got ready for events, and sat on that very same chair while she complained about men who didn’t know how to treat women properly. Apparently, she had been talking about my husband. “How long has this been going on?” I asked, as I tried to steady myself. Drew stood on the other side of the coffee table, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers. He had arrived twenty minutes ago without warning, refused the drink I offered him, and placed enough photographs in front of me to destroy six years of marriage. “It’s been about six months. Maybe longer.” I looked up at him “And you knew?” His jaw tightened. “Not from the start. I only found out recently.” For a moment, neither of us spoke. Drew had been Aaron’s business partner for years, although their relationship had become increasingly complicated as their agencies grew. He owned one of the most competitive modeling agencies in Chicago, and their companies still worked together on several major projects. He also happened to be the one man Aaron could never quite intimidate. Drew didn’t smile to make people comfortable. He didn’t pretend to agree when he disagreed, and he had a way of looking at someone that made lying feel like an exhausting exercise. Right now, he was looking at me as if he expected me to fall apart but I refused to give him the satisfaction. “How did you get these?” “Someone sent them to me.” “Who?” “I can’t tell you that yet.” I laughed, but there was nothing funny about it. “Yet? Drew, you walked into my home with photographs of my husband sleeping with my best friend, and you’re telling me you can’t answer a simple question?” “I’m simply telling you that the person who sent them isn’t the problem right now.” “Really? Because from where I’m standing, there are quite a few problems.” “Liselle.” “Don’t.” I raised a hand. “Don’t say my name like you’re trying to calm down a sad child.” It was a lie. I was beyond sad and f*****g terrified. For months, Aaron had been coming home late. Cassie had become increasingly interested in his schedule, his meetings, and the projects he was handling. Whenever I questioned her about it, she always had a reasonable explanation. She was my best friend. Why would I suspect her? And Aaron was my husband. Why would I suspect him? I put the photograph down carefully. “Does everyone know?” “No one does.” “Does Aaron know you have these?” “No he doesn’t.” “Does Cassie?” “Not that I’m aware of.” I nodded slowly, trying to organize the questions crowding my mind. Then I remembered the campaign. The luxury skincare contract I had been considered for, until Aaron decided Cassie was a better fit. The fragrance campaign that had gone to her six months earlier. The magazine cover I had been told wasn’t right for my current image. Six months. I looked at the photographs again. “Was he giving her my job because he was sleeping with her?” Drew didn’t answer immediately and that was answer enough. I pushed myself off the sofa and walked to the kitchen. I needed water, something to do with my hands, anything that would stop me from staring at the evidence as though the pictures might rearrange themselves into something less humiliating. Behind me, Drew remained silent. I filled a glass at the sink, but I couldn’t bring myself to drink. My reflection stared back at me from the dark kitchen window, and for one uncomfortable moment, I barely recognized the woman looking back. I had defended Aaron in rooms where people questioned his decisions. I had turned down opportunities to support his agency. I had introduced Cassie to clients, recommended her for campaigns, and celebrated every new contract she received. I had helped them build the very life they were now using to betray me. After a while of letting my thoughts run free, I finally asked the question that I’ve been dreading to ask since he walked in here. “Why are you telling me this?” “Because you deserve to know.” I turned around. “That sounds noble. Is that what we’re calling it now?” His expression hardened. “What do you want me to call it?” “I don’t know, Drew. Maybe you can explain why Aaron’s business partner suddenly cares about his wife’s happiness.” Something shifted in his face. It was small, almost impossible to catch, but I saw it. Drew had always been difficult to read. We had known each other for years, attended the same industry events, sat through the same meetings, and exchanged the occasional polite greeting. Yet there had always been something uncomfortable about the way his attention lingered on me when he thought nobody was watching. I had never asked him about it though. “I care about what he’s done,” he finally responded firmly. “To me?” “To you. To your career. To the people who trusted him.” I looked away first. It would have been easier if he had been cruel. If he had come here to gloat or if he had offered some smug remark, Instead, he stood in my living room with evidence that my marriage was a lie, looking angrier than I had managed to feel myself. I returned to the sofa and picked up the photograph of Cassie in my robe. “You said this started six months ago, so you have proof of all six months?” “More than enough.” I stared at the picture. Six months of lies. Six months of Aaron kissing me goodbye before going to meet her. Six months of Cassie listening to me complain about a marriage she was actively helping to destroy. I could almost hear her voice in my head. “You deserve someone who makes you feel wanted, Liselle.” She had said those words to me over dinner last month. I had thanked her for being such a good friend. Something inside me finally gave way, but it wasn’t the kind of heartbreak that made a person cry. It was colder than that. I placed the photograph on the table and reached for the others. “Can I keep these?” “Yes of course. They’re yours.” Drew watched as I arranged the photographs into a neat stack. “Liselle, what are you going to do?” I looked at him. For the first time since he had arrived, I smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile, and judging by the way his expression changed, he knew it. “I’m going to have an affair.”