I had always suspected my husband was seeing another woman. When I finally confirmed it, I did something people still whisper about and call me mad.
It seems like another life now, but I remember the moment I stumbled across those messages between my husband and the other woman. I didnt cry. I didnt scream. Instead, a wry smile crept onto my lips. After all, I was the Chief Executive of an international consultancy; I could manage a crisis far better than a scene in my own living room.
A fortnight later, we ran an advert for an executive assistant. She applied, of course. Her CV was most unremarkable, but her photograph matched every selfie Id seen on my husbands phone.
On the morning of her interview, I donned my sharpest suit and breezed into the conference room.
Youre the applicant, arent you? I said, indicating she should sit.
She regarded me with not the slightest glimmer of recognition. Naturally. Hed never shown her a photograph of his proper wife. I expect hed painted a picture of someone dreadful and frumpy.
So, tell mewhy do you want to work here? My tone was mild.
She offered the usual platitude. Your firm has a sterling reputation, and
Please, just call me boss, I interrupted with a smile. Were a bit like family here.
I hired her on the spot.
The next few months were sheer theatre. To her credit, she was rather competent. But the greatest satisfaction was watching her each morning as my husband left for work, utterly clueless that his mistress and I would be sharing coffee two hours later.
Are you married? she asked one day while we reviewed contracts.
Yes. Quite happily, actually. I didnt so much as flutter an eyelid. And yourself? Do you have anyone special?
A blush rose to her cheeks.
Its complicated. Hes in a difficult situation.
Married, is he? I remarked offhandedly. The usual story.
She protested, Its not like that! He loves me, hes just
Dont worry, Im not judging. The heart wants what it wants, doesnt it?
In the evenings, my husband would ask how my day had gone. I regaled him with office anecdotes, casually mentioning the new assistantvery hardworking. Not once did he suspect a thing. Unfaithful men are shockingly naïve.
After six months, I promoted her.
Youve done splendidly. Id like you to take charge of our new branch in Asia. An extraordinary offer: eighty percent pay rise, accommodation provided, a three-year contract.
Her eyes sparkled.
Abroad? ButI have someone here.
Long-distance love works, if its real, I said, touching her shoulder. But if it doesnt, it was never worth it. Trust me, I know.
My husband was insufferable those next weeks. I would feign sleep as they quarrelled over the telephone. Eventually, she leftteary at the airport, according to my driver, who happened to be there by chance.
Overseas, she did exceptionally well, sending flawless reports and exceeding targets. My husband, for his part, became attentive as if guilt gnawed at himromantic suppers, bouquets, pledges that we ought to renew our vows.
How touching.
Exactly one year after Id employed her, I rang her over video call.
We need to talk.
Her face stiffened.
Im afraid we must terminate your contract. Restructuring, you know how it is.
What? But I left everythingmy life!
I know. Shame you abandoned that complicated man for the opportunity. By the way I paused for effect give him my regards when youre back. Though I doubt hell be waiting. Hes rather busy these days planning our vow renewal.
A perfect moments silence. Her expression shifted from stunned to horror as she pieced it together.
You you knew
From the very beginning. Your severance package is ready. My advice? Spend it on a good therapist. And next time a married man tells you his wife doesnt understand him, ask if she oversees a budget of tens of millions. Such a wife probably understands rather more than he thinks.
I ended the call.
That same evening, my husband came home beaming, a bottle of champagne in hand.
Shall we celebrate? Its exactly a year since everything improved between us.
I raised a toast and enjoyed every single sip.
I never told him. Why disturb his peace of mind? I already had my victory. He never realised that, in truth, my little act of vengeance was always aimed at him.
So tell mewhich is better: a cold, measured revenge, or immediate confrontation with the truth?
