He Brought Her Bra Pad Home, I Ended Him

When my husband came home from the bakery downstairs, there was a pink silicone bra pad stuck to the back of his head. He had no idea. And I didn't say a word. The only thing I did differently was quietly feed his freshly printed diabetes diagnosis into the shredder. If he wanted to destroy his own health, that was his choice. I had no obligation to remind him. I was sitting on the couch, reading a fairy tale to Lily while she curled up in my arms, when Ethan walked through the door after work. "Lily, look what Daddy brought you!" After closing the door behind him, he lifted a beautifully wrapped box and waved it at us. Lily immediately jumped off the couch and ran over. But the moment she saw yet another cream cake inside, the excitement vanished from her little face. "Daddy, why did you buy cake again? I'm sick of eating it..." Her complaint made me pause. This was already the eighth cake Ethan had brought home from that bakery this month. Something didn't feel right. Using laundry as an excuse, I picked up the coat he had just taken off and carried it into the laundry room. I lowered my head and took a sniff. The rich, sugary scent of cake clung stubbornly to the fabric. Then I slipped my hand into one of the pockets. My fingertips brushed against something soft. It was a flesh-colored silicone bra pad shaped like a flower. I stared at it for a long moment. Suddenly, everything made sense. That little homewrecker couldn't wait any longer. She was openly provoking me now. Not wanting to alert either of them, I kept my expression perfectly calm and quietly put the bra pad away. When Ethan saw that neither Lily nor I touched the cake, he sat down and ate the entire thing himself, as if sulking. Afterward, he changed clothes and headed back to the office, claiming he had work to finish. The second he left, I started investigating the owner of that bra pad. I had barely unlocked my phone when I came across a social media post Vanessa Reed had uploaded half an hour earlier: [Lost my brand-new 'cream' pad. If anyone finds it, please return it to me!] The photo attached to the post was identical to the one that had been stuck to the back of Ethan's head. Vanessa was the owner of the bakery downstairs. To verify my suspicion, I bought the parking garage security guard a premium pack of cigarettes and asked for a favor. Without much hesitation, he pulled up three months' worth of surveillance footage. That's when I discovered that Ethan spent nearly half of his evenings at the bakery downstairs after getting off work. His most recent visit had been just two hours earlier. I didn't know much about Vanessa. All I knew was that she had suddenly moved into this upscale neighborhood six months earlier, opened a tiny homemade bakery that couldn't have been more than a hundred square feet, and brought along a little boy about Lily's age. Figuring it was worth a try, I went into the study and turned on Ethan's computer. We had been together for eight years. I knew him better than anyone. Unlocking his computer was effortless. I opened w******p and found his chat history with Vanessa. Their entire conversation appeared on the screen. Ethan: [You're way too sensitive. You completely ruined my pants.] Vanessa replied with a laughing emoji. Vanessa: [It's because you're insatiable. You couldn't get enough. Be honest, your wife has never satisfied you like this, has she?] So that was it. No wonder Ethan had been rushing home during lunch breaks to shower and change clothes. Now I knew why. I was about to close the chat window when another message from Vanessa suddenly appeared. Vanessa: [Ethan, when are you going to keep the promise you made to me?] I didn't even bother wondering what promise she meant. Suppressing the wave of nausea rising in my throat, I saved every disgusting message and piece of evidence. Then I silently swore that I would make both of those cheating scumbags pay.