My Husband’s Best Friend Toasted To Me As “The Temporary One” At Our 3rd Anniversary Dinner. I Just Found The “Future Plans” Folder For His Ex In His Locked Desk. How Do I Get My Revenge?

The Confrontation

We heard the front door open and both jumped. David’s voice called out asking if I was home. My sister looked at me and mouthed asking if I wanted to leave, but I shook my head. I needed to hear him try to explain this. I needed to watch his face while he told me whatever lies he’d prepared on the drive home from the restaurant.

David’s footsteps came down the hall and stopped in the office doorway. He looked at me sitting in his chair, then at my sister standing next to the desk, then at the open folder with papers spread everywhere. His face went completely blank. Not surprised or guilty or angry, just blank, like he was a computer that had crashed and was trying to reboot and figure out what expression to show.

I asked him if anything Lucas said tonight was untrue. My voice sounded weird and flat, like I was asking about the weather instead of asking if my marriage was real. David stood in the doorway for a long moment without moving. Then he walked into the office and sat down heavily in the chair across from his desk, the chair where clients or co-workers probably sat during meetings.

He looked at the folder and all the papers and then finally looked at me. He said yes, he’d been helping Natalie plan her return. Yes, he’d leased an apartment near his office for her. But he swore he was going to tell me before she actually arrived. He said it like that made it okay. Like the problem was that I found out too soon instead of the fact that he’d been planning to leave me this whole time.

My sister asked him when exactly he was planning to tell me. Her voice was sharp and angry in a way I’d never heard before. David said he was waiting for the right time. He kept his eyes on the desk instead of looking at either of us.

I started laughing and couldn’t stop. The sound came out high and broken and not like my normal laugh at all. My sister put her hand on my shoulder, but I kept laughing. Apparently, our 3-year anniversary dinner wasn’t the right time. Apparently, finding out from his drunk best friend in front of 12 people was fine, but David telling me himself would have required waiting for the perfect moment.

I laughed until tears ran down my face, and my sister squeezed my shoulder harder, and David just sat there looking at his desk like maybe if he stared at it long enough this whole conversation would disappear. I stopped laughing and wiped my face with the back of my hand.

David sat across from me in his office chair, looking smaller than usual. He opened his mouth and closed it twice before words came out. He said he never meant to hurt me and that I’d been a good wife. The words landed wrong. Being called a “good wife” while he’d spent three years planning to replace me felt worse than being called temporary. It felt like getting a participation trophy for a game I didn’t know I was playing.

My sister made a sound in her throat that wasn’t quite a laugh. David kept talking about how he appreciated everything I did for him and how I shouldn’t take any of this personally. I asked him how exactly I was supposed to take discovering my husband had been treating our marriage like a rental agreement. He didn’t have an answer for that.

I stood up and walked to the window, looking out at our backyard where we’d hosted barbecues with friends who apparently all knew I was temporary. The grass needed mowing. David always said he’d do it on weekends, but he never did.

I turned back to face him. I asked about the $40,000. David’s face changed, and he looked genuinely surprised that Lucas had told me about the money. His mouth opened but nothing came out at first. Then he admitted it was true. He said he kept the money separate just in case.

“Just in case of what?” I asked.

He shifted in his chair and said, “Just in case things changed.”

I asked about the wedding venue payments. He nodded slowly and said yes, he’d kept paying them. He looked at the desk instead of at me. I asked why, and he said he didn’t know how to cancel it. That was his excuse. He “didn’t know how to cancel” a wedding venue for a wedding that never happened because his fiancée left him 4 years ago.

My sister stood up from where she’d been sitting and told David he needed to leave. He looked at her like she’d spoken a different language. She repeated it slower. She said he needed to get out of his own house for the night because if he stayed, she was going to say things that couldn’t be taken back.

David actually argued. He said it was his house too. He said he paid the mortgage. He said he had every right to be here. My sister looked at me, and I must have looked like I was about to break because David stopped talking. He stared at my face for a long moment, then he stood up and left the office without another word.

I heard him moving around upstairs—drawers opening and closing, the closet door sliding on its track. My sister put her hand on my shoulder and asked if I was okay. I said I didn’t know. We stood there listening to David pack. He came back downstairs at midnight carrying a duffel bag.

He stopped in the office doorway and looked at me. He said we could talk about this rationally tomorrow when everyone had calmed down. He said this like I was the one being unreasonable. Like I was overreacting to finding out my husband had been counting down the days until he could replace me. I didn’t say anything. I just looked at him standing there with his bag.

He waited for me to respond, and when I didn’t, he turned and walked to the front door. I heard it open and close, then his car starting in the driveway, then silence. My sister asked if I wanted her to stay, and I nodded.