
My Wife's Birthday Gift
Chapter 3
[Honey, when are you coming over?]
Below the message was a selfie showing a deep cleavage.
[You little tease. I'm almost there.]
[Don't come over yet! Troy came home early!]
[What? Didn't that guy say he wasn't coming back until tomorrow? Damn it.]
[I'm sorry. Let's meet tomorrow at our usual spot. I'll make it up to you.]
[Alright. You said it. Don't back out. And don't you dare let that idiot touch you tonight, got it?]
[Of course. Troy is boring and way too serious. He's nothing like you. I'd never let him touch me!]
My fists clenched so tightly that my nails almost dug into my skin.
I couldn't believe Phoebe betrayed me and even sent disgusting messages like this to another man.
Before, it was only a suspicion. Now, the evidence was right in front of me, and there was no denying it anymore.
Phoebe and I met in college. When I first met her, I was drawn in by her bright, lively personality.
Back then, I saved every penny I could. Every weekend, I would use whatever I scraped together to take her to the nicest restaurants in Lakewood Heights.
Meanwhile, on campus, I survived on peanut butter sandwiches.
A jar of peanut butter could last me a whole month.
By junior year, after interning at a construction site, I used my very first paycheck to buy Phoebe a designer bag.
After all my persistence, she finally agreed to be my girlfriend.
I was over the moon. I thought my dedication had finally moved her.
But everyone at school said Phoebe was a gold digger and told me to stay away from her.
I thought they were jealous that I had such a great girlfriend. Sour grapes, I told myself.
I never imagined that not even six months after getting married, Phoebe would hook up with another man behind my back.
And she cheated with her driving instructor, at that!
No wonder she kept running to driving school for half a year, yet somehow never passed the test. As it turned out, all the lessons were happening in bed.
She spent my money to take lessons and hooked up with the instructor instead.
Thinking about it, something inside me snapped. I looked at Phoebe sleeping beside me and smacked her across the face.
The sharp crack echoed through the quiet room, the whole air turning still.
Phoebe woke up groggy, a hand pressed to her cheek. "What's wrong?"
I lowered my voice, cold and flat. "Nothing. I killed a mosquito for you. Go back to sleep."
Phoebe didn't sense anything wrong and drifted back to sleep.
While she slept, I installed a monitoring app on her phone.
There was only one thing left on my mind now: I was going to make those two pay.