He Cheated, So I Gift-Wrapped His Karma in Neon Lace
After a decade of marriage, I noticed the shift—late-night texts, sudden gym obsession, a new cologne he never wore for me. Mark claimed it was “just work,” but I knew better. One glance at his phone gave her a name: Jess. Instead of screaming or crying, I plotted. I wanted proof, sure—but I also wanted a front-row seat to his unraveling.
I pretended to go out of town, complete with a fake flight and suitcase. Then I sent Jess a hideous neon-green lingerie set with a flirty note, pretending it was from Mark. “Wear this tonight, babe,” it read. I watched from a distance as she showed up at our house for their little candlelit date. When she stepped out in that awful outfit, Mark looked horrified, insisting he never sent it. Jess, confused and humiliated, was already on edge—perfect timing.
That’s when I walked in. Mark turned pale. Jess stood frozen in neon lace, and I calmly told her, “He didn’t send it. I did.” She fled in…
