Olga sat silently in the dim-lit bus, the sweat from the stuffy heat of the traffic-filled afternoon stinging her eyes. The loud noise of the engine and chatter from other passengers faded into the background as her mind wandered to more pressing matters—matters that had been weighing on her for months. Despite her mind’s best attempts to focus on the mundane, like figuring out dinner plans, Olga couldn’t help but replay the scene she had just witnessed.
Her husband, Anton, her rock for the past eight years, had just been caught in a passionate kiss with a blonde woman—right outside a café. It was as if time itself had slowed when Olga realized the woman was not some casual acquaintance but a mistress. Her heart dropped as Anton’s face registered a flicker of guilt before he hopped into a taxi with the woman.
The last few years had been frustrating for Olga. She had supported Anton’s business ventures, worked tirelessly at the veterinary clinic, and yet, her life seemed to be devoid of joy. They’d been unable to conceive, a fact that had only deepened the cracks in their relationship. Every time Anton returned from a “business trip,” Olga was left with unanswered questions, all of which were soon overshadowed by the cold realization that perhaps their love had already gone cold.
But this… this was different.
Olga had always prided herself on her patience, but the betrayal she had just witnessed left her with a fire that could not be extinguished. A million thoughts raced through her head—should she confront Anton? Should she file for divorce? But no, she needed something more, something calculated.
She had spent the ride home stewing over her anger and disbelief, but as she stepped into the quiet apartment, something else clicked. She had to make Anton feel what she had felt—betrayed, humiliated, and utterly lost.
Sitting down at the kitchen table, Olga began to form a plan, one that would make Anton regret ever thinking he could get away with this. The moment Anton left for his “business trip” to the seaside, she would make sure he’d never forget this day. She knew what she had to do.
The next day, when Anton left early for his trip, Olga quietly slipped into his study. His suitcase was neatly packed, ready for the weekend escape. She took a deep breath, trying to suppress her excitement, and began the switch.
The contents of Anton’s suitcase—carefully organized and neatly packed—were no longer his. Olga replaced his usual business attire with clothes that would fit a much different kind of vacation. She added several items that weren’t his at all, items designed to throw Anton off the scent of his usual routine: a garter belt, a provocative red dress, and a handful of carefully chosen perfumes. She wasn’t done yet, though.
Her final touch was the most devious. Olga replaced the spare key to their apartment with one from a hotel she had pre-booked on the coast—just a few miles from where Anton was supposedly meeting clients. It wasn’t about the money; it was about sending a message, one Anton would never forget.
A day passed, and Olga stayed quiet, silently waiting for Anton’s call. She wondered if he would notice the shift in his suitcase—the strange, unfamiliar items that didn’t belong. It wasn’t about catching him in the act anymore; it was about making him feel that nagging, uncomfortable sense of insecurity he had so carelessly inflicted on her.
Finally, the phone rang.
“Olga,” Anton’s voice sounded muffled and distracted. “I think there’s been a mistake. The suitcase… it’s… all wrong. There’s some woman’s stuff in here. And, uh, a hotel key? Where did you get this?”
Olga smiled, knowing this was just the beginning of the psychological torment she had crafted for him. “I just thought it was time you enjoyed some company on your trip,” she said coldly, her voice calm but laced with anger. “I hope you enjoy the surprise. I’ll be waiting for you when you come back.”
Anton was speechless. Olga could hear the confusion, the panic building in his tone as he tried to piece together what had just happened. His business trip had just turned into a nightmare of his own making.
The call ended, and Olga sat back in her chair, satisfied. She had played her hand well, and now Anton would be the one searching for answers, scrambling to fix what he had broken. She didn’t need to expose him right away—this would be a slow burn.
And when Anton returned, humiliated and guilt-ridden, there would be one final confrontation—a reckoning he would never forget. The mistress might remember searching for her “gift” among the belongings, but Anton would remember the price of his infidelity forever.
For Olga, the price of justice had been sweet.