I was at work when my office chair suddenly collapsed, sending me crashing to the floor in front of everyone. As I recovered in an outlet furniture store, laughing at the prices, I overheard a familiar voice—my husband, Matt—secretly planning a “cozy love nest” with another woman, all while pretending his chemotherapy left him bedridden. I realized I’d been funding his lies: fake treatments, bogus doctor notes, and monthly “health” payments.
Instead of confronting him, I returned home, discovered their secret house and evidence on his laptop, and crafted a plot. I invited friends, family, church members—even his boss—to a surprise “housewarming” for his new place. When Matt and his mistress arrived, they were met by stunned guests and exposed.
The next day Matt came begging, so I served him divorce papers and demanded reimbursement for every fraudulent “treatment” expense. Weeks later, I opened a “New Beginnings Fund,” using half the money he paid me to travel overseas. He faked sickness—I healed.