Jake and I had been together for three years. The first two years were fine, but the last year, pure psychological warfare. He started checking my phone, questioning where I was going, who I was talking to. He’d get irrationally jealous if male co-workers texted me about work stuff.
He’d make jokes about me being unfaithful in front of our friends. When I’d get upset, he’d say I was overreacting and that guilty people get defensive. The worst part was I never cheated. Not even close. I was completely faithful while he was projecting his own behavior onto me. It was Teresa who first caught him. She’d been my best friend since high school. Basically like a sister.
One night while Jake was at work, she came over after I mentioned another one of his wild accusations. I showed her text where he was questioning why I got home 15 minutes late from grocery shopping and suggesting I was meeting someone. Teresa got this weird look on her face and showed me her phone. Jake’s dating profile active that very day.
His bio even said he was single and looking for fun. Teresa confessed she’d suspected for weeks. A friend of hers had matched with him, but recognized him as my boyfriend from pictures on my social media. Teresa had been gathering evidence before telling me because she wanted to make sure it wasn’t just a misunderstanding. That night, we formulated a plan.
Teresa would create a fake profile and try to match with him to see how far he’d go. Teresa matched with him within hours. He didn’t even hesitate. Their chats were vile. He told her he was single, complained about his psycho ex me, who he was trying to break up with, but who wouldn’t take the hint.
When Teresa asked why he didn’t just end it, he wrote, “She pays half the rent and does all the cooking and cleaning. Why give that up until I find something better?” He started sending her screenshots of conversations with other girls he was seeing. In these chats, they would make fun of me. He called me the most hideous creature and something so repulsive to these women. There was a message from Jake saying, “I almost gag when she tries to kiss me.
” And some girl responded, “You’re such a saint for putting up with her. I would have left ages ago.” Jake wrote back, “It’s complicated, but not for long. I promise.” These were messages to multiple women. All while he was accusing me of cheating. All while I was cooking his favorite meals, doing his laundry, and trying desperately to prove my loyalty to him. I didn’t confront him right away.
Teresa and I decided we needed more than just evidence. We needed a plan. Not to get him back, but to absolutely destroy him. The next few weeks, I played the perfect girlfriend while Teresa continued chatting with him through the fake profile. I smiled when he kissed me goodbye in the mornings. I still cooked his meals and did his laundry.
I even apologized when he accused me of flirting with the delivery guy who literally just handed me our food and left. All the while, I was plotting. One night, Jake came home late smelling like unfamiliar perfume. When I casually mentioned it, he got furious and said I was being paranoid and that maybe I should talk to someone about my insecurities.
He said maybe I was depressed, that I hadn’t been myself lately. I just smiled and apologized, all while mentally adding this to my list of reasons he deserved what was coming. I went through our finances. We had a joint account for bills, but Jake also had his own savings account that he was so proud of. He was always talking about how disciplined he was with money, how he was saving for our future.
What a joke. Looking at our bank statements, I could see large withdrawals on nights he claimed he was working late. Expensive restaurants, hotel charges, gift shop purchases. That’s when I knew exactly where to hit him. His ego and his wallet. I remembered my cousin Vicki.
Everyone always said we looked similar, except she was the prettier version of me. Thanks, family. She had the same dark hair and eyes as me, but was taller with a better figure as my mom would constantly remind me. She was a model in college and still turned heads everywhere. And she owed me a favor after I helped her through a really rough breakup last year. I called Vicki and Teresa for an emergency meeting and told them my full situation.
Vicki was furious on my behalf. She said what Jake was doing was emotional abuse, not just cheating. And she was right. Teresa showed Vicki all the evidence she’d gathered, and Vicki couldn’t believe someone could be so cruel while pretending to be the victim. By the end of our 3-hour conversation, I wasn’t just angry. I was calculating, cold, ready.
That night, as I watched Jake texting on his phone with that stupid little smirk on his face, probably telling some other woman how hideous I looked while accusing me of texting someone, I made my decision. I had my plan. Something that would make Jake regret every single word he ever said about me. Something that would hit him exactly where it would hurt the most.
Teresa and Vicki were all in, and together, we were about to teach him the lesson of a lifetime. First update. Our plan was like something out of a heist movie, except it was real and I was living it. We decided Vicki would accidentally run into Jake at his gym. He went to fitness club downtown every Tuesday and Thursday like clockwork, supposedly for training sessions.
But now I suspected he was just trolling for women. Vicki got a guest pass through a friend who was a member. We studied Jake’s routine. He always posted workout selfies with timestamps. What a predictable dumbass. And knew exactly when to position her on the treadmill next to his favorite bench press. The first day of operation takedown.
Vicki wore these insane leggings that made even me do a double take. She texted me from the gym. Target acquired. He hasn’t stopped staring since I walked in. What happened next was so predictable it was almost boring. Jake accidentally bumped into her while getting a towel. Started a conversation about protein shakes or some [ __ ] Asked for her number to share workout tips.
By that evening, he was already texting her. I sat with Vicki on my couch reading every message. My stomach in knots. Teresa brought wine and takeout, insisting we needed fuel for the psychological warfare ahead. The texts were exactly what you’d expect. Compliments about how fit she looked.
Questions about whether she was single, suggestions they should grab a protein shake sometime. Here’s the kicker. Jake had no idea Vicki was my cousin. We look similar, but not in an obvious way unless you’re really paying attention. And Jake never really paid attention to me anymore. The plan was simple but devastating. Vicki would date him, get him completely hooked, make him spend obscene amounts of money on her, and then eventually we’d reveal everything.
Meanwhile, I’d continue playing the unsuspecting girlfriend while secretly enjoying watching him dig his own grave financially and emotionally. Vicki and Jake had their first date 3 days later. He told me he had a work event that night. I kissed him goodbye, told him to have fun, and then immediately drove to Teresa’s apartment, where we tracked the whole evening through Vicky’s play-by-play texts.
He took her to this ridiculously expensive restaurant he’d never taken me to, despite my hints about wanting to go there for our anniversary. Vicki said he ordered the priciest wine on the menu, bragged about his important job and his savings account. He even had the nerve to mention he was practically single and wrapping up a dead-end relationship. When Vicki sent us a bathroom selfie from the restaurant, I almost threw up.
It was surreal seeing my boyfriend on a date with my cousin while I was sitting on my best friend’s couch eating popcorn and plotting revenge. Teresa kept reminding me it was all just evidence of what a piece of [ __ ] he was and that soon he’d pay for everything, literally. Over the next few weeks, Jake became obsessed with Vicki.
He started canceling our plans to see her, staying out later, coming home with this smug look on his face like he had some amazing secret, all while Vicki reported back everything to me and Teresa. The money spending started small, dinners, small gifts, concert tickets. But Vicki was strategic. She’d mentioned some jewelry she liked just casually while they were walking past a store.
Next thing you know, Jake’s dropping $500 on earrings to impress her. She’d talk about a weekend getaway spot she’d always wanted to visit, and suddenly Jake was booking hotels and making plans. The best part, Vicki would accidentally leave these gifts at his place, claiming she didn’t want to lose them.
But really, so he couldn’t ask for them back later. Then she’d bring them straight to me. I now had a collection of expensive jewelry, designer bags, and even a [ __ ] watch he bought her. All purchased with money he claimed he was saving for our future. As for the trips and experiences, Vicki had a system. She’d get Jake to book everything on his credit card.
Then she’d find some excuse for why she needed cash for her half, which he’d immediately refuse because he was trying to impress her. Then after the weekend, she’d Venmo me her fund money from Jake’s cash. Sometimes I’d use it for myself, but mostly I’d split it with Teresa and Vicki for what we called our revenge fund. We were building quite the nest egg.
One weekend, Jake told me he had a business conference in a beach town 2 hours away. What he actually had was a romantic weekend with Vicki at a luxury resort. Vicki somehow convinced him she needed $800 in spending money for spa treatments and shopping. He handed it over without question. That money funded my spa day with Teresa at a local place while he was gone.
We got the works, massages, facials, manny petties, all on Jake’s dime. We even posted pictures knowing Jake never looked at my social media anymore. The whole time Jake was getting bolder with his lies to me. He started working late four nights a week. Had business trips on weekends. Once he even claimed his mom was sick so he could take Vicki to a wine country resort.
His mom called me that same weekend to ask if we wanted to come over for dinner. I made up some excuse about Jake having food poisoning. Keeping up my end of the charade was exhausting. I had to pretend everything was normal. Had to keep cooking his meals, doing his laundry, smiling when he kissed me with the same [ __ ] lips he’d been using on my cousin.
Things got more complicated when Jake started telling Vicki about his horrible girlfriend, meaning me. Vicki would record their conversations, legal in our state with one party consent, and send them to me. Hearing him call me desperate and clingy and totally oblivious made me want to burn his entire life to the ground.
The worst was when he told Vicki he couldn’t wait to be done with a dead weight and that the only reason he hadn’t broken up with me yet was because it’s just so convenient having someone split the bills and do all the household [ __ ] He literally called me his Roomba that also pays rent. When I heard that recording, I smashed a glass against the wall when Jake wasn’t home. Teresa had to come over and help me clean it up before he got back.
But even through the pain, the benefits of our scheme were starting to pile up. Vicki convinced Jake to buy her a new iPhone because hers kept dying. She immediately gave it to me since my screen was cracked. She got him to buy designer shoes in her size, which was actually my size. She even managed to get him to pay for a weekend yoga retreat that she never attended.
I went with Teresa instead, laughing the entire time about how Jake was funding my relaxation while believing I was at home doing his laundry. Around the 2-month mark, Vicki started phase two of our plan. She began talking about how stressed she was at work, how she needed a real vacation. She strategically mentioned places she’d always wanted to visit. Coincidentally, places I had mentioned wanting to go.
One night, while on a date with Jake, she broke down in fake tears about how she’d never been able to afford a real vacation. Jake, trying to be the hero, immediately offered to help. Before the night was over, he’d booked a weekend trip to this amazing mountain resort about 3 hours away. All expenses paid. Here’s where it got interesting.
The day before the trip, Vicki called Jake sobbing. Her grandmother was in the hospital, and she couldn’t possibly go away that weekend. Jake was devastated, especially since the reservation was non-refundable. Vicki, being the thoughtful person she is, suggested he take the trip anyway since he’d been working so hard. Jake reluctantly agreed.
The minute Jake told me he was going on a guy’s fishing trip that weekend, his cover story to me, I texted Vicki and Teresa. The plan was in motion. Vicki had already secretly given me the reservation details. As soon as Jake left for work the next morning, I packed my bags, picked up Teresa, and we drove to the exact resort Jake had booked for his weekend with Vicki.
We checked in using the reservation Jake had paid for. The front desk didn’t even blink when I gave them my ID. The reservation was under Jake’s name, but didn’t specify guest names. We spent the entire weekend in luxury, spa treatments, gourmet meals, hiking with a private guide, all courtesy of Jake’s credit card.
We even ordered room service and charged it to the room. Meanwhile, Jake was texting Vicki about how disappointed he was, but how he was making the best of it on his fishing trip with imaginary friends. We took so many pictures that weekend, being careful not to post them anywhere Jake might see.
Those photos went into what we called our evidence locker, the folder we’d eventually used to show Jake just how thoroughly he’d been played. When I got home Sunday night, Jake was already there telling me about all the huge fish he and his buddies caught. I nodded and asked questions, acting interested while secretly replaying the memory of soaking in a hot tub with a glass of expensive champagne he had paid for. The pattern continued for another month. One of my favorite scams was the birthday present scheme.
Vicki mentioned her best friend’s birthday was coming up and she wanted to get her something special, but was short on cash. Jake immediately offered to help. He ended up buying an expensive designer bag that Vicki had picked out, which she promptly gave to me for my birthday, which was actually the following week. I carried that bag everywhere, including on dates with Jake.
He complimented it once, saying it looked expensive. I just smiled and said Theresa had gotten it for me, technically not a lie. His savings account was dwindling, and he’d started complaining to me about unexpected expenses at work and how we might need to tighten our belts for a while. The audacity.
Meanwhile, things between Jake and Vicki were getting more serious from his perspective. He started talking about introducing her to his friends, maybe even his family. Vicki skillfully deflected, always keeping him at that perfect distance, close enough to keep spending money on her, but not so close that their relationship would move forward in any meaningful way.
What Jake didn’t know was that we were building up to something big. Vicki had started planting seeds about a luxury vacation she’d always dreamed of taking. Some tropical resort with private bungalows over the water, places where rooms cost like $1,000 a night. Jake predictably took the bait, started looking at options, trying to figure out how to afford it.
That’s when we discovered he’d been moving money from our joint account into his private one to fund his double life. Money that was supposed to be for our bills, our future. He’d been stealing from me to romance my cousin. Finding those transfers was like being punched in the stomach all over again. But it also made me more determined than ever to finish this.
As the third month of our scheme came to a close, Jake was planning this extravagant vacation, draining his savings account for deposits and buying new luggage and ridiculous tropical outfits. Little did he know, it was all leading to the final phase of our plan. But we weren’t quite ready to spring the trap. Not yet. We had at least one more month of making him pay. Literally.
The best part, he had no idea what was coming. He still thought I was completely oblivious. Still cooking his meals and doing his laundry like the perfect girlfriend. Still believed Vicki was falling for him as hard as he was falling for her. still believed he was the one in control of the situation, but the control was all ours.
And soon, very soon, he was going to learn just how badly he’d been played. Second update, month four of Operation Destroy Jake’s bank account was when things got really interesting. By this point, Vicki had Jake wrapped so tightly around her finger that he’d started getting sloppy with his lies to me. He’d work late, but forget to text that he wouldn’t be home for dinner. He’d leave receipts in his pockets that I’d find while doing laundry.
Once he even called me by Vickiy’s name when he was half asleep. I had to bite my tongue so hard I tasted blood. Meanwhile, our revenge fund had grown to almost $4,000 in cash from all the money Vicki had extracted from him and shared with us. Teresa had benefited, too. We’d take turns with the spa packages and restaurant gift cards Vicki would get out of him.
One night, Jake came home looking stressed. He sat me down for a serious talk about our finances. Apparently, he was experiencing some temporary cash flow issues and needed me to cover more of our shared expenses for a while. Could I possibly pay the full rent next month instead of just my half and maybe handle the utilities, too? He promised he’d pay me back once his work bonus came through. I almost lost it right there.
This [ __ ] was spending thousands on my cousin while asking me to cover his basic living expenses. But I kept my cool, nodded sympathetically, and agreed to help out. What choice did his oblivious girlfriend have? As soon as he left the room, I texted Vicki and Teresa. Phase escalation starts now. The next day, Vicki called Jake in tears.
Her car had broken down and she needed $600 for repairs ASAP. Jake, despite having just told me he was broke, somehow found the money within hours. Vicki took the cash, thanked him profusely, and then split it with me and Teresa.
We went shopping while her perfectly functional car sat in my apartment complex’s guest parking, but the real gold mine was the tropical vacation planning. Vicki had convinced Jake to book this ridiculously expensive resort in Bora Bora. Jake was struggling to come up with the money, but Vicki kept sending him pictures of the place, talking about how it would be the most romantic week of their lives.
I watched from the shadows as Jake started selling things to fund this trip. His prized vintage guitar collection that he’d never let me even touch sold on eBay. The expensive watch his grandfather left him pawned. His crypto investments he was so proud of liquidated at a loss. All while telling me we needed to cut back on luxuries like my [ __ ] morning coffee and Netflix subscription.
One night while Jake was in the shower, I checked his phone and saw he’d taken out a personal loan for $15,000. The absolute madness. Going into debt for a woman he’d known for less than four months while telling his girlfriend of 3 years that we needed to economize. While all this was happening, I was quietly preparing my exit strategy.
I’d found a new apartment with Teresa’s help, affordable and with good security. I’d been moving my important documents and sentimental items there little by little. I’d started redirecting my mail to a PO box. I’d even opened a new bank account at a different bank where Jake had no connections. The stress of maintaining the charade was getting to me, though.
Playing the supportive, oblivious girlfriend while watching Jake destroy his finances for another woman, even if that woman was my cousin working on my behalf, was exhausting. Some nights, I’d lie awake next to him, fighting the urge to scream in his face about what a pathetic, disloyal piece of [ __ ] he was.
Teresa noticed I was struggling and suggested we treat ourselves to a mental health day using some of our revenge fund money. We booked a day at this amazing hot springs resort about an hour outside the city. The irony, it was a place Jake had once promised to take me for our anniversary, but claimed we couldn’t afford. The day at the Hot Springs was exactly what I needed.
Soaking in the mineral pools, getting massages, drinking champagne at 11:00 a.m., all while knowing Jake was at work, stressed about money, completely unaware that he was funding my relaxation. It felt like poetic justice. When I got home that evening, Jake was already there, which was unusual. He looked nervous, pacing around the living room.
My heart dropped. Had he somehow found out about our scheme, but no, it was something else entirely. He sat me down and told me he’d been doing some serious thinking about our relationship. This was it. He was going to break up with me. After all these months of cheating and lying, he was finally going to end things so he could be with Vicki openly.
I prepared my fake surprise face, already mentally rehearsing how I’d call Vicki and Teresa the minute he left to tell them we needed to accelerate our timeline. But that’s not what happened at all. Instead, this delusional [ __ ] got down on one knee and pulled out a ring box, a [ __ ] engagement ring. He started saying how he’d been distant lately because he was working through some personal issues, but had realized I was the one he wanted to spend his life with. That sometimes people don’t appreciate what they have until they almost lose it. That he wanted us to start fresh. I was literally speechless.
This was his plan to lock me down with an engagement while continuing to see Vicki on the side, or was he planning to break things off with her? Either way, it was the most pathetic, desperate move I could imagine. The ring was tiny, nothing like what he’d once promised he’d get me someday.
Clearly, his finances were in worse shape than I’d thought. I stood there frozen, my mind racing through options. If I said yes, it would buy me more time to extract maximum revenge. If I said no, the game would be over too soon. I did what any self-respecting woman in my position would do. I burst into tears. Not entirely fake. They were tears of rage. And told him I needed time to think.
That his distant behavior had hurt me deeply and I wasn’t sure if we could fix things. That I loved him, lie, but needed space to consider his proposal. Jake was crushed but tried to hide it. He said he understood that he’d give me all the time I needed. He even suggested I go stay with my parents for a few days to clear my head.
I almost laughed out loud. He was trying to get me out of the apartment so he could have Vicki over. I pretended to agree, packed a bag, and went straight to Teresa’s place. The minute I arrived, I called Vicki and filled her in on this insane new development. She couldn’t believe it either.
What kind of psychopath proposes to one woman while actively planning an expensive romantic vacation with another? We decided to use this new situation to our advantage. Vicki would act especially needy and demanding in the coming days, really pushing Jake to his financial limits. Meanwhile, I’d string him along about the proposal, asking for time and space while actually using that time to finalize my escape plan.
Over the next week, I stayed at Teresa’s, but maintained daily contact with Jake. I text him things like still thinking and need more time. While he responded with increasingly desperate messages about how much he loved me and how he’d do anything to make our relationship work. 10 days after the proposal, Jake called me sounding stressed. He needed to talk to me about something important in person.
My heart raced. Had he somehow figured out our scheme? I agreed to meet him at a coffee shop the next day, then immediately called Vicki and Teresa for an emergency strategy session. We decided I’d wear a tiny microphone. Teresa had one from her journalism days so they could listen from Teresa’s car parked nearby.
If things went south, they’d be right there to intervene. We also prepared a cover story in case Jake had somehow discovered what we were doing. What Jake wanted to talk about wasn’t our scheme at all. It was money. He confessed he’d made some bad financial decisions recently and was in serious trouble. He’d maxed out his credit cards, taken out loans, and even borrowed from friends.
He needed my help to get back on track. Specifically, he wanted me to take out a loan in my name to consolidate his debts. He promised he’d pay it back, that it would only be temporary. He even suggested it could be the first step in our life together, proving we were a team who helped each other through tough times. I sat there stunned at the audacity.
This man had spent thousands on another woman, lied to my face for months, and now wanted me to go into debt to solve his financial problems, problems he’d created by trying to impress my cousin. It took everything in me not to throw my hot coffee in his face. Instead, I told him I needed to think about it, that it was a big decision, that I was still processing his proposal, and this added a whole new complication. I could see the desperation in his eyes as I left, promising to let him know soon.
The minute I got back to Teresa’s car, we all burst out laughing. The sheer nerve of this man was almost impressive. Vicki immediately started planning the next phase. She would tell Jake she’d gotten an unexpected bonus at work and could now contribute significantly to their vacation. All he needed to do was complete the bookings, and she’d reimburse him for her share.
Of course, that reimbursement would never come, but Jake didn’t know that. Over the next few days, Jake secured the final bookings for their Bora Bora trip. He’d had to borrow money from his brother to cover the last few thousand, but it was done. All non-refundable, all booked under both their names. The vacation was scheduled to start in exactly 2 weeks.
Their flights would leave on a Friday morning, which meant we had 12 days to execute the final phase of our plan, and Jake had no idea what was coming. No idea at all. Last update. Those final 12 days before Jake’s romantic Bora Bora getaway, lol, were some of the most stressful and exhilarating of my life. We had everything planned down to the minute.
But there was always the risk he’d figure something out or that Vicki would slip up somehow. Meanwhile, Jake was getting increasingly desperate about money. He kept texting me about that loan, saying things like, “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, and this is about our future together.” The audacity of this man thinking I’d go into debt for him while he was planning a luxury vacation with another woman.
I mean, technically it was my cousin working on my behalf, but still. I finally agreed to meet him for dinner to discuss our relationship and the loan situation. I chose this mid-range restaurant where we’d had our first date, partly for the symbolism and partly because I knew he couldn’t afford anything fancier.
At this point, I spent extra time getting ready, making sure I looked amazing, hair perfect, makeup flawless, wearing this red dress he’d always loved. When I showed up, Jake’s face lit up with hope. He’d been worried I was going to end things, but my appearance suggested otherwise.
We ordered food and made awkward small talk while he kept glancing at my left hand, noticing I wasn’t wearing the sad little engagement ring he’d given me. Finally, I cut to the chase. I told him I’d been doing a lot of thinking about our relationship, about the future, about what I really wanted. His face got all serious and expectant. Then, I dropped the first bomb. I told him I’d looked into the loan he wanted me to take out and could probably get approved for $25,000.
The relief on his face was instant, like a drowning man spotting a lifeguard. He reached for my hand across the table, squeezing it while saying how much this meant to him. How he’d definitely pay me back. How this proved we were meant to be together. I smiled and said there was just one condition.
I needed access to all his financial records before taking out the loan. Bank statements, credit card bills, everything, just so I could understand exactly what I was getting into. His face froze. I kept my expression innocent, like this was a perfectly reasonable request from someone about to take on their partner’s debt.
He stammered something about how that wasn’t necessary, that he’d handle all the repayments, that I shouldn’t worry my pretty head about the details. I insisted, saying this was non-negotiable, that if we were going to build a life together, there needed to be complete transparency. Jake looked like he was going to be sick. He excused himself to the bathroom, taking his phone with him. When Jake returned to the table, he had composed himself.
He agreed to show me his financial records soon, but said right now the most important thing was processing the loan application because he had some urgent deadlines. I nodded sympathetically while mentally adding this to the mountain of evidence of what a manipulative ass he was. I told him I’d go to the bank on Monday, this was Friday evening, to start the application process. His relief was palpable.
Little did he know I had zero intention of getting him a penny. Over the weekend, Jake was extra attentive and loving, bringing me coffee in bed, suggesting we watch my favorite movies, even cleaning the apartment without being asked. All while texting Vicki constantly about their upcoming trip, which was now just nine days away.
Monday morning came and I told Jake I had an appointment at the bank. I dressed in my most professional outfit and left the apartment while he wished me luck. Where I actually went was to meet Teresa and Vicki at our new favorite coffee shop to finalize the details of our plan. When I got home that evening, Jake was waiting expectantly. I told him the bank needed more time to review my application, but that things looked positive.
He tried to hide his disappointment and stress, but I could see his hands shaking slightly as he hugged me. Four days before the trip, Vicki played her Mastercard. She called Jake crying, saying her grandmother had just been hospitalized and she might need to fly home to see her instead of going to Bora Bora. Jake panicked, started offering solutions. Could they postpone the trip? No. Non-refundable.
Could her grandmother wait? She was shocked he would suggest that. What if he went with her to see grandmother instead? No. Family only during health crisis. After letting him stew for 24 hours, Vicki called back with good news. Grandmother was stable and the doctor said there was no need for immediate concern. The Bora Bora trip could proceed as planned.
Jake was so relieved he actually sent her flowers as a feel- better gift for grandmother. Flowers that were delivered to my new apartment where Vicki was actually staying half the time now as we prepared for the final phase. 2 days before the trip, Jake was a complete mess. The bank, aka me, still hadn’t approved the loan he desperately needed.
He was trying to pack for Bora Bora while hiding his suitcase in the closet whenever I was home. He was juggling texts between me and Vicki, trying to keep both relationships afloat. It was almost sad how pathetic he’d become. Almost. The night before the big trip, I told Jake I needed to talk to him about something important. His face went pale. He probably thought it was about the engagement or the loan.
Instead, I told him I was going to stay with Teresa for a few days because I needed space to think about our future. His relief was visible. This solved his problem of how to leave for the airport without me asking questions. What Jake didn’t know was that while he was at work the previous day, I’d already moved most of my remaining belongings to my new apartment.
All that was left were some clothes and toiletries I could easily fit in one suitcase, which I packed while he was in the shower. As I was about to leave, Jake hugged me tightly and said he hoped I’d have an answer about our future when he got back from his business trip on Sunday. The fact that he could lie to my face so convincingly after 3 years together still astounded me.
The moment I closed the apartment door, our final countdown began. Operation Complete Destruction was officially underway. I went straight to Theresa’s place where Vicki was waiting. We ordered pizza, opened champagne, and went over our plan one last time. Tomorrow morning, Jake would head to the airport thinking he was about to have the romantic getaway of a lifetime with his gorgeous secret girlfriend.
Instead, he was about to have the worst day of his life. We barely slept that night, too wired with anticipation. At 6:00 a.m., Vicki texted Jake, “Good morning. So excited for today. Can’t wait to see you at the airport.” Jake responded immediately, “Just finishing packing. See you at Termi
nal 3 at 8:30. Can’t believe we’re finally doing this.” At 7:00 a.m., we watched through the apartment building security app as Jake left with his suitcase, looking happier than I’d seen him in months. The minute his car pulled away, Terresa, Vicki, and I got into Theresa’s car and headed to the airport ourselves. Not to fly anywhere, just to witness what was about to unfold.
We arrived at Terminal 3 around 8:15 and positioned ourselves at a cafe with a perfect view of the check-in counters. Jake arrived at 8:25, looking around eagerly for Vicki. He checked his phone, texted her, then went to stand in the check-in line for his flight. At exactly 8:45, when Jake would be approaching the counter, Vicki sent him the message we’d carefully crafted the night before.
It was a selfie of me, Vicki, and Teresa together, all smiling widely with middle fingers up. Beneath it, Vicki wrote, “Surprise, [ __ ] Hope you enjoy your $17,000 vacation for one. Your girlfriend knows everything.” We watched from our hiding spot as Jake received the message. He froze in the middle of the check-in line, staring at his phone.
His face went from confusion to shock to horror in seconds. He looked around wildly, as if expecting to see us. Tried calling Vicki immediately, straight to voicemail because she’d blocked his number. Tried calling me. Same result. Jake stepped out of the line, still staring at his phone in disbelief.
He slumped onto a nearby bench, frantically typing, probably sending desperate messages that would never be delivered. We watched this go on for almost 20 minutes before he finally got up and walked zombie-like toward the exit, dragging his suitcase behind him. Jake spent the entire day calling us from different numbers, leaving increasingly desperate voicemails.
We ignored them all, focusing instead on phase two of our final plan. I’d also left a carefully worded letter on the kitchen table outlining exactly what we knew along with printed copies of some of his worst messages about me, including the ones where he called me the most hideous thing and his Roomba that also pays rent.
The letter explained that if he contacted me or Vicki again with any threats or harassment, the entire evidence folder would be sent to his parents, his boss, and posted publicly. Was all of this strictly necessary? Probably not. Was it deliciously satisfying after months of his psychological abuse and cheating? Absolutely. That evening, Jake showed up at the apartment to find he couldn’t get in. The security camera caught his meltdown in the hallway as he realized just how thoroughly he’d been played.
Over the next few days, Jake cycled through every emotion possible. He sent emails begging for forgiveness, then angry ones calling us crazy [ __ ] then pitiful ones about how he’d lose his job if he couldn’t repay his debts. Exactly one week after the airport incident, we executed the final part of our plan.
Vicki, Teresa, and I booked ourselves into a gorgeous local spa resort for the weekend, paid for with the last of our fund money. While soaking in hot tubs and getting massages, we each posted a single photo to our social media accounts. Predictably, this triggered another round of desperate messages from Jake, now using his brother’s phone since we’d blocked all his numbers.
He couldn’t understand how we could be so cruel and heartless. He claimed what he’d done wasn’t that bad compared to how we’d destroyed his life. The lack of self-awareness was truly spectacular. In the months since then, Jake has tried various tactics to contact me. He even sent a letter to my parents’ house. They forwarded it to me unopened.
What he hasn’t done is repay any of the money he took from our joint account or explained to his family and friends why he suddenly had to move back in with his parents at 30. As for the financial aftermath, Jake is apparently working two jobs trying to pay off his debts. The vacation packages, flights, and hotel reservations were all non-refundable, just as Vicki had insisted when booking. His credit score is destroyed. His savings are gone.
Meanwhile, I’m thriving in my new apartment. I’ve been promoted at work. I’m wearing designer clothes and jewelry that technically Jake paid for. I’m planning a real vacation with Teresa and Vicki next summer. One that we will pay for with our own money because we’re not pathetic cheaters who have to ma
nipulate people to get what we want. Last week, Jake showed up at my apartment building at 3:00 a.m. clearly drunk, crying into my Ring doorbell camera about how he’d made the biggest mistake of his life and would do anything for another chance. I watched the live feed from my phone, cozy in bed, and did the only reasonable thing. Sent the video to Vicki and Teresa so we could all laugh about it together. then forwarded it to building security to have him removed from the property.
20 missed calls later, he finally gave up. I slept like a baby that night, knowing he was suffering while I was absolutely thriving. That, my friends, is what you call karma. And it is beautiful.