The next morning, Lera woke up to the stillness of the house. Zhenya was still sleeping soundly, sprawled across the bed, as if nothing had happened. She, however, had no intention of letting him get away with his betrayal. Her plan was already in motion, and it would be a long, drawn-out game of patience and precision.
She made breakfast, but the smile she gave him was empty, almost mechanical. Zhenya sat at the table, unaware that the woman he had wronged was silently counting down the minutes until her revenge would unfold.
Later that afternoon, when Zhenya headed out to meet his “friends” for another game, Lera had everything prepared. She had already checked the settings on his phone. The messages were all there. The affair was confirmed, and now she just had to play her part in the twisted drama she had set up.
Zhenya was still clueless, calling her once more to remind her to “keep dinner warm,” a request he had made countless times without ever showing any appreciation. Little did he know, Lera had already made sure that he would be feeling the consequences of his actions soon enough.
As evening fell, Lera went to the kitchen, where she prepared another meal—this time, a far more cunning one. She set the stage perfectly, adding not just the laxatives she had planned, but also a mix of spices designed to trigger a reaction from him. Her plan wasn’t just about making him uncomfortable. It was about making him regret his decisions, to realize that his perfect life wasn’t as flawless as he thought.
When he returned, his face lit up with his usual smug expression. He walked straight into the living room, his attention divided between the TV and his phone, where he had no idea that Lera had already set up the perfect trap. He dug into the meal without hesitation, completely unaware of what was coming next.
An hour later, Lera heard the first signs of distress from the bathroom. Zhenya’s groans and curses echoed through the walls as he clutched his stomach. Lera couldn’t help but feel a small satisfaction at his discomfort, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more than just physical payback. She wanted him to face the truth.
Zhenya stumbled back into the living room, face pale, sweat beading on his forehead. He looked at her with a confused expression. “Lera, what the hell did you do?”
Lera stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her face unreadable. “What do you mean? I just made your favorite dinner.”
He tried to muster the strength to argue but staggered to the bathroom again. Lera watched him leave, feeling a bitter taste of victory. This wasn’t just about humiliating him—it was about making him realize how far gone his marriage really was.
Later that night, when the storm of sickness finally subsided and Zhenya lay in bed, exhausted and defeated, Lera sat by his side, her voice cold and unwavering.
“You think you’ve been clever, huh? You think you can just cheat and expect everything to stay the same?” she asked quietly, her words cutting through the air.
He blinked, trying to focus on her, but his exhaustion made him sluggish. “What are you talking about, Lera?”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I know about your little affair. Don’t you dare try to deny it.”
Zhenya’s face drained of color. He opened his mouth to speak but then shut it, realizing the truth was staring him in the face.
Lera didn’t wait for an apology. She didn’t care for his remorse. What she wanted was justice, and now she had it.
“You’ll never forget this, Zhenya. You’ll never forget how easy it was for me to destroy the life you thought you had,” Lera said, her eyes cold and resolute.
And with that, she stood up, leaving her husband in the bed he had once shared with her. As she left the room, she heard his muffled voice calling after her, but Lera didn’t turn around. She had taken everything he had given her and turned it into her own form of revenge—twisted, merciless, and final.