We waited for the couple at Laura’s house. When they walked in, we turned on the lights. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Laura said coldly. “Hope you’re proud.”
I added, “Our prenup says cheating voids your payout. And you’ll pay the penalty clause—monthly.”
Laura finished: “No more college fund. Go play house with your forty-year-old boyfriend.”
Kevin turned pale. The girl said nothing. The fantasy was over. Mark and I didn’t say much after. We sat outside a café, sipping bitter coffee in silence—free for the first time. My final voice memo? “Revenge tastes better than lemon tart. If you ever need a partner in crime, choose someone who hates lies as much as you do.”