Hey Reddit, long-time lurker, first-time poster. I’ve been reading stories on here for a while, and well, I never thought I’d have one of my own to share. I’m still trying to process it all. I guess I’m looking for some perspective, maybe some validation, or maybe just a place to vent. It will be long, so let me start…
The Search for “The One”:
I’m 35 now, and for a long time, I was starting to think that finding a good, honest woman was like finding a unicorn: you hear about them, but you never actually see one. I’m not one of those “nice guys” who complains about being friend-zoned. I’m a pretty straightforward, no-nonsense kind of guy. I work in construction, I’m good at my job, and I make decent money. But in my past relationships, I always felt like I was giving it my all, and it just wasn’t enough. I was the guy who remembered anniversaries, brought flowers for no reason, listened (really listened) when they talked. I tried to be supportive and understanding. The whole deal. And it always seemed to end the same way: with me getting hurt.
It got to the point where I started to believe that maybe all the good stuff, all the effort, just didn’t matter anymore. It felt like being a decent, caring person was a liability, not an asset. I was starting to get pretty cynical about the whole relationship thing. I genuinely thought good qualities were no longer valued. I honestly was not looking.
Meeting Jessica:
Then, about 5 years ago, I met Jessica. She was 33 at the time. It wasn’t some dramatic meet-cute or anything. We met through a mutual acquaintance at a casual get-together. It was very matter-of-fact, but I remember being drawn to her smile. It was genuine, you know? Not forced or fake. I ended up talking to her for a good chunk of the evening, got her number, and we started dating. There was a huge amount of excitement to see each other in those early days. We really clicked. I always made sure to put effort into everything. I remember the day as clear as yesterday, even down to what we were wearing.
At first, I thought the relationship was a very casual fling, but after a while, I started to catch feelings. This was my chance, and for a while there, it really felt like I’d found “the one.” Jessica was different. We had a lot in common, like a love for hiking and trying out new restaurants, but we also had our own separate interests, which I thought was healthy. I’m into classic cars – restoring them, going to shows, that kind of thing. She found it mildly interesting, which was fine by me. She was really into pottery, making all sorts of bowls and vases. I appreciated her art, even though I didn’t have the patience to do it myself. It gave us things to talk about, things to learn from each other. Everything just seemed to click in those early days. We were both relatively young, still figuring things out, but we were doing it together. It felt right. It felt like we were building something real. We were making plans, talking about the future, all that stuff.
Work Life and Early Trust:
Now, our jobs were pretty different, and that plays a part in this story later on. As I mentioned, I’m in construction. I’m on-site, physically working most days. It’s hard work, but it’s honest work, and I’m proud of what I do. Jessica, on the other hand, worked in sales. She sold software, and her performance was measured on how much she sold. Initially, she was in an office, a typical 9-to-5 kind of deal, but after a while, her company started offering a work-from-home option, which she jumped on. At first, I thought it was great – more flexibility for her, more time we could potentially spend together, even if it was just being in the same house while she worked. I was always very proud of her, always encouraging her to get her job done so that she could get that promotion. We were going places.
I’m going to be honest here: I’ve always considered myself a good partner. I’m not bragging, but I try to be attentive, to provide, to protect, to be there for my partner in every way I can. That includes being emotionally supportive, being spontaneous, and yes, being good in the bedroom. I put in the effort with Jessica. I felt like I could really trust her. I’d had partners in the past where I had nagging doubts, little suspicions that maybe they weren’t being completely honest, but with Jessica, it was different. I’m not saying infidelity is impossible, but it wasn’t something I actively worried about. I genuinely believed we had something special, something built on trust and mutual respect. That’s why what happened later hit me so hard.
The Subtle Shifts:
It started slowly. Jessica started acting odd. It’s hard to describe exactly, but she just seemed “off.” I noticed she was being more secretive with her phone, hiding the screen when I walked by, taking calls in another room. She was less affectionate, less interested in spending time together. She kept saying she was tired a lot, even on weekends when we usually made plans. At first, I brushed it off. I figured she was stressed about work. She’d been pushing hard for a promotion, and I knew the pressure was getting to her. I kept telling myself, “Don’t jump to conclusions. It’s probably nothing.” I really wanted to believe it was nothing. I didn’t want to think it was anything serious. My initial reaction was just curiosity. I wanted to know what was going on with her, why she seemed so distant. I was completely blind to the bigger picture at this point.
But the odd behavior didn’t stop. It went on for a whole week, with only little glimpses of the Jessica I knew. Those moments of normalcy were just enough to keep me hanging on, to make me think maybe I was overreacting. But the suspicion was starting to grow. Still, even then, I didn’t immediately think she was cheating. I thought maybe she was having some kind of personal crisis, maybe she was hiding a health problem, something like that.
One night, we were watching a movie – something we usually did on Saturday nights. She seemed completely distracted, kept checking her phone, and when I asked her about it, she said it was work emails. On a Saturday night. That was unusual, even for her. That’s when I really started to get concerned. My worry was slowly building up.
The Seed of Doubt:
I ended up talking to my friend James about it. James is a good guy, but he’s a bit cynical, especially about relationships. He’d been through a really messy divorce a few years back, and it kind of colored his view of everything. I confided in him, told him what was going on, and he just laughed. He said (and I’ll never forget this), “Dude, if she’s a woman, she can cheat on you. It doesn’t matter how good you are, how much you do for her. They all have it in them.” He even mentioned that you could have it all – great job, great looks – but you could never be sure. That statement, as harsh as it was, really got to me. It shifted my whole perspective. Suddenly, every little thing Jessica did seemed suspicious. I went from being concerned and curious to actively suspecting she was having an affair. I couldn’t shake James’s words.
I decided I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t going to live with this nagging doubt, this constant feeling that something was wrong. I decided I was going to find out what was really going on. I knew about Reddit, and all the advice I found online mentioned to check the phone, so I would go that route if things didn’t get better.
The Setup:
So, I planned a nice dinner. I cooked her favorite meal: lasagna, the one we used to make together when things were good. I even set the table with candles, trying to create a relaxed, comfortable atmosphere. I wanted her to feel safe, like she could talk to me. I waited for her to get home, and after we ate, I brought it up. I told her I was worried about her, that she’d been acting differently, and I just wanted to know what was going on. And then I asked her point blank: “Are you cheating on me?”
She looked shocked. Her hands started shaking, and she couldn’t look me in the eye. She stammered, struggled to find words. It was painful to watch, honestly. Finally, she denied it. She said she couldn’t believe I would even ask her that, that she loved me, that we’d been together for 5 years. She got teary-eyed, almost hysterical. It was a whole performance.
But here’s the thing: I didn’t believe her. Maybe it was James’s words ringing in my ears, maybe it was my own gut feeling, but something felt off. I expected her to be angry, outraged that I would accuse her of something like that, but she wasn’t. She seemed more deflated, like she was just sad that I’d even thought it. And she was way too quick to accept my apology when I said I
The Deception and The Discovery:
So, I did something I’m not proud of, but I felt like I had to do it. I pretended to believe her. I apologized again, told her I was just being paranoid, and we went to bed. But I couldn’t sleep. This was a strategic move on my part. I knew that if I wanted to get to the bottom of things, I needed her to think I trusted her again. I needed her to let her guard down. I knew what I was going to do, but I had to wait for the right moment. It was going to be a long night. This was all building to what I knew I had to do. I was not going to have peace until I knew what was really going on. I thought to myself, “If she thinks I am this stupid, she has another thing coming.” The doubt was slowly eating at me.
I waited until I was absolutely sure Jessica was asleep. It was around 3:17 a.m., according to my phone. I’d been lying there staring at the ceiling for hours. My heart was pounding, and I felt sick to my stomach, but I knew I had to do it. I carefully slipped out of bed, grabbed her phone from the nightstand, and went into the bathroom. I opened her messages and I started scrolling. I went to her Gallery first and scrolled; nothing. I went to her messages and, and that’s when I saw it: a contact named “Harry’s Plumbing.” Now, why would Jessica be texting a plumber at all hours of the night? I knew immediately that it was a fake name, a cover. It was so obvious, so juvenile, it almost made me laugh.
I clicked on the conversation, and my world kind of crumbled around me. The messages were from someone named Ethan, and they were graphic: pet names, talk about how much they missed each other, dirty talk, and even some pictures that were almost nudes. Stuff like, “Can’t stop thinking about your smile 😉” from Ethan, and Jessica replying, “You’re making it hard to focus on work, you know.” There was even a picture of Jessica in some new lingerie she’d bought with a message saying, “Wish you were here to take this off me.” It was all there in black and white. They hadn’t explicitly said they’d slept together yet, but the emotional intimacy, the suggestive messages – it was all there. It was an affair, plain and simple, and it had been going on for at least 2 weeks, which lined up perfectly with when she started acting strangely.
The Aftermath:
As I sat there on the bathroom floor reading those messages, I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. My heart was racing, I was hyperventilating, my hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold the phone. I wanted to scream, to smash something, to wake her up and confront her right then and there. I even had thoughts of finding this Ethan guy and… well, I won’t go into details, but they weren’t pretty.
I was heartbroken, devastated, furious, all at the same time. 5 years. 5 years I’d invested in this relationship, and it was all a lie. I kept thinking, “How could she do this? Was any of it real? Did she ever really love me?” It was like my whole reality had been shattered. I was relieved in a way that I’d found out relatively early, before we’d gotten married or had kids, but I was also incredibly angry at the way she’d done it: the childish code names, the stupid emojis, the whole thing. I felt like my sanity was slipping away, like I was losing control.
I knew I had to get out of there, had to get some air, had to figure out what to do next. I spent the next hour documenting everything. I took screenshots, notes, made sure I had it all recorded.
After I had documented everything, I had to make a game plan. I sat down on the bathroom floor and began to think about everything. I wasn’t sure how to proceed. I had so many thoughts in my head. I was so angry. I had many options in my head: the loud and public options (tell all our parents, post everything online for everyone to see, or distribute flyers at her workplace), and the quiet options (leave without saying anything, contact a lawyer, or just move out).
Planning The Exit
I knew I wanted her to feel the pain she had caused. I realized that I had a lot of Leverage in this situation. I am very financially stable. I am in a union and have all the security that comes with that. Jessica on the other hand was struggling, sales was not for her, she was barely making any money. I knew that I was the one making it easier for her to live in the expensive city we lived in, without my income she would struggle, this gave me some ideas. I knew one thing, I could get by just fine without her.
So this is where I’m at Reddit. I’m a mess. I’m hurt. I’m angry. And I’m trying to figure out my next move. I know I need to end things, but I’m not sure how.
Update One:
It’s been a few months since my last post, and a lot has happened. I know many of you were waiting for an update, and I apologize for the delay. I needed some time to get my head straight and to make sure I was making the right decisions. I wanted to make sure that this would be a clean split. The first few weeks after I found out about the affair were hell. I was cold and distant to Jessica. We were sleeping in separate rooms. I barely spoke to her, and when I did, it was short, clipped sentences. I couldn’t even look at her without feeling a mixture of rage and disgust. I barely even ate anything. I just could not comprehend the actions she took.
One thing I realized during this time, and something I want to share with all of you, is the importance of not rushing into marriage. I’m so glad Jessica and I weren’t married. I dodged a bullet there. It just goes to show that you never really know someone, not completely, until you’ve lived with them for a long time, seen them at their best and their worst. I now had firsthand experience in this aspect.
I decided to wait. Our lease was up in about 3 months, and it was in my name. I figured that would be the best time to make my move. It would give me time to plan, to get my ducks in a row, and to maximize the impact of my actions. I needed time to find a new apartment, something that fit my budget and was closer to work. I also needed to start gathering boxes and reach out to some friends for help with the move. It was a lot to do, but I had a plan.
Oh, and one more thing: about a month after I checked her phone, Jessica and Ethan did sleep together. I found out later, and honestly, it just made things easier for me. It solidified my decision to leave. It removed any lingering doubt or temptation to try and work things out. It was the final nail in the coffin, so to speak. I’ve heard that cheaters often lose interest once the forbidden aspect of the affair is gone. I have a feeling that Jessica and Ethan’s relationship won’t last. It’s just a fantasy built on lies and deception. But that’s their problem, not mine.
I was starting to get myself together, with the final plan ready to go.
Executing the Exit:
Okay, so the final month of the lease rolled around, and it was go time. I’d been planning this for months, and I was ready. I picked a day when I knew Jessica was supposed to be working late. She told me she had some big client dinner or something, which honestly, I didn’t even care if it was true or not anymore. It just gave me the opportunity I needed. I’d already lined up my friends, the same ones who knew the whole story (including James, of course). They were more than willing to help. They’d been telling me for weeks that I deserved better, that I needed to move on, and that they were there for me no matter what. Good guys. I’m lucky to have them. Having them support me made me feel a lot better about my actions.
We met up at the apartment early in the afternoon. I’d already packed up most of my stuff in boxes, labeling them clearly so I’d know what was what. We worked fast, efficiently. These guys were like a well-oiled machine. We loaded up the truck with everything that belonged to me, which honestly was about 80% of the stuff in the apartment: furniture, electronics, kitchenware, my clothes, my tools, everything. I wanted to leave her with as little as possible. I wanted her to feel the emptiness, the void that I’d been feeling for months.
The new apartment was actually closer to my work, which was a bonus. It was smaller, but it was clean, and it was mine. Just a fresh start. We got everything moved in about 4 hours. It was surprisingly quick considering how much stuff I had. I remember looking around the apartment before we left. It was almost completely bare: empty shelves, bare walls, just a few pieces of furniture that Jessica had brought into the relationship. It looked sad, and honestly, it felt good. A strange mix of sadness and anger was building, knowing that I was actually doing this, but there was also a sense of liberation. I was finally free.
Before I left, I did one last thing. I took a piece of paper and wrote a short, simple note: “Goodbye. Have fun with Ethan.” I debated for a while about what to write, if anything. I thought about writing a long, angry letter, pouring out all my hurt and frustration, but in the end, I decided less was more. This was the best message: short and to the point. I placed the note on the kitchen counter, right where she’d see it when she walked in. I know it’s a bit cliché, but it felt right. I even considered saying something more snarky, but I decided against it. This was enough.
My friends helped me unpack a few of the essentials at the new place, but I told them I could handle the rest. I needed some time alone to process everything, to get used to my new surroundings. I thanked them again for their help, and they left. I was so grateful to have them.
Then came the hard part: the ghosting. As soon as Jessica got home and found the note, my phone started blowing up: calls, texts, messages on every social media platform you can imagine. She was panicking, obviously. She went from angry accusations to tearful pleas for forgiveness, all in the span of a few hours. She even tried to contact me through mutual friends, begging them to intervene. But I didn’t respond. Not once. I ignored every call, every message, every attempt to contact me. This was the core of my revenge, if you can even call it that: complete and utter silence. I wanted her to feel the same confusion, the same uncertainty, the same helplessness that I’d felt when I discovered her affair. It’s been 3 weeks since I moved out, and I haven’t spoken a single word to her. I’m actually enjoying imagining her panic. I am sure she is freaking out.
Update Two:
A few days after I moved out, I got a call from the landlord. He was obviously confused, wondering what was going on. Jessica must have told him some story, but he wanted to hear my side of it. He contacted me on my cell. I told him the truth. I explained everything about the affair, about Ethan, about how I’d moved out because I couldn’t live with a cheater. I told him I wouldn’t be renewing the lease, obviously.
The landlord was surprisingly understanding. He’d known me for a few years, and I’d always been a good tenant: paid my rent on time, never caused any problems. I think he appreciated my honesty. I also told him that I was forfeiting the security deposit. I didn’t want a single penny back. I didn’t want Jessica to benefit in any way from my money. I told the landlord to do a thorough walkthrough of the apartment and to make his own judgment about whether she deserved any of it back. I trusted him to be fair. I had his word that he would make the right choice.
Then the landlord told me something that gave me a strange sense of satisfaction. He said that Jessica couldn’t afford the apartment on her own. She didn’t have a roommate lined up, and her family lived too far away to be of any help. She was facing eviction, and she was scrambling to find a new place to live. It was a direct consequence of her actions, of her betrayal, and I’m not going to lie: it felt good to know that.
I know some people might think I’m being cruel, that I should feel sorry for Jessica, but honestly, I don’t. I gave her everything I had. I was a good partner. I was faithful. I was supportive. And she threw it all away for some cheap thrill. She made her choices, and now she has to live with the consequences. It’s not about the money or the apartment or even the stuff I took. It’s about the principle of the thing. It’s about the pain she caused me, the disrespect she showed me. It’s about the fact that you can’t just treat people like garbage and expect to get away with it. You can’t have the best of both worlds. You can’t have a loving, committed partner and a secret affair on the side.
The landlord did do the walkth through, he contacted me and told me that everything was good and that he would be returning my security deposit. I was glad and he told me he served the eviction notice to Jessica he was very happy with how I handled everything I thanked him again and told him I was happy to finally be moving on
Also people told me to block her and move on so that’s exactly what I did
Update Three:
It has been a month since the last the update and Jessica has tried again to reach me after I blocked her she had called me on a blocked number it went straight to voicemail I checked it and I instantly knew it was her I called the number back Jessica answered and she immediately broke down she was crying apologizing profusely saying she had nowhere to go her voice was horse like she’d been crying for days she sounded exhausted defeated it was obvious she realized she couldn’t deny the affair any longer the jig was up she kept repeating “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” over and over again she tried to offer explanations excuses but they were weak unconvincing “it just happened” she said “I didn’t mean for it too” I was confused it was pathetic really she even tried to appeal to my past feelings reminding me of all the good times we’d shared “don’t you still care about me at all” she asked her voice cracking she was desperate grasping at straws trying anything to get me to change my mind she started to express how uncertain she was about her future she did not know what she was going to do and stated she had nowhere to go
I listened to her please for a few moments. I wanted her to feel the weight of her actions, the full impact of what she’d done. Then I let out a short, humorless laugh. It was a sharp, dismissive sound, the kind of laugh that conveys disbelief and contempt, you know?
“Jessica,” I said, “it’s funny. You spent weeks, maybe months, sneaking around, lying to my face, and now you expect me to feel sorry for you?” I paused again, letting my words sink in. “You made your choices. You destroyed what we had, and now you’re reaping the consequences.”
I delivered the final, decisive blow. “You have Ethan,” I said, my voice flat and emotionless. “Go. Go live with him.” And then I hung up. I didn’t give her a chance to respond, to argue, to plead. I just ended the call abruptly, mid-sentence if she even tried. There was no going back.
Right after I hung up, I went through all my social media accounts – Facebook, Instagram, everything – and blocked her there too. I erased her digital presentence for my life as thoroughly as I’d erased her physical presence from my apartment. I even considered deleting old photos and messages, but I decided to keep them for now, as a reminder of what I’d been through and what I’d overcome.
I sat back, and a strange calm washed over me. I didn’t feel a rush of elation or a surge of triumph, just a quiet, steady sense of closure. It was like a weight had been lifted, a burden I’d been carrying for months finally released.
I started thinking to myself, justifying my actions not to anyone else but to myself
I don’t know where she’ll go, I thought, and honestly, I don’t care. She made her bed, she can lie in it. I strengthened my belief that she deserved whatever hardship came her way. I didn’t see it as an act of revenge, but as a natural consequence of her choices. She had betrayed me, lied to me, and destroyed our relationship. She had to face the reality of that, without me to cushion the blow. I knew the pain I’d gone through, the sleepless nights, the constant anxiety, the feeling of being utterly worthless. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, but I also wouldn’t shield Jessica from the consequences of her actions. If she ends up on the streets, she deserves it. That was my final thought on the matter, a testament to my complete lack of empathy for her.
I tried to maintain the author’s voice while cleaning up the grammar and adding formatting for online readability.
