When her best friend refused to believe her husband was cheating on her, Nancy was determined to open her eyes. She set up a foolproof trap, but as the plan unfolded, Nancy was unprepared for the explosive consequences.
Alright everyone, Nancy here. Ever had that friend, the one who wears rose-colored glasses thicker than a disco ball? Yeah, that’s Melissa. Now, Melissa’s husband, Victor, is the epitome of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Picture perfect husband on the outside, but on the inside… well, let’s just say his loyalty roams free like a stray dog…
For the past year, whispers about Victor’s little “extracurricular activities” had been swirling around town like tumbleweeds in a dusty desert.
Pub crawls with “mystery women,” extra-long “work nights” that ended way too close to sunrise at that sketchy karaoke bar on Elm Street — the signs were all there, neon bright.
But Melissa? Bless her heart, she clung to the fantasy of their “perfect” marriage like a life raft in a hurricane.
At first, it was kind of cute. You know, the “ignorance is bliss” kind of thing.
But seeing Melissa walk on eggshells around Victor, making excuses for his shady behavior, it started to grate on me. The girl was practically begging to get her heart broken!
Enough was enough.
One gloomy Tuesday evening, armed with a bottle of the strongest wine I could find and a heart full of frustration, I marched over to Melissa’s house. You know that feeling when you just gotta lay it all out, consequences be damned? That’s exactly where I was at.
Melissa opened the door with a bright smile that faltered the second she saw my stormy expression.
“Hey Nancy,” she said. “What brings you here?”
I pushed past her, the wine bottle threatening to topple over in my trembling hand. “We need to talk,” I declared.
Melissa’s smile vanished completely, replaced by a flicker of worry. We settled down on the couch, and I launched into my spiel, laying out all the rumors, the suspicious disappearances, the way Victor’s eyes lingered a little too long on other women.
But Melissa wouldn’t budge and tears welled up in her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous, Nancy,” she sniffled. “Victor would never do anything like that. He loves me.”
My frustration bubbled over. “Loves you?!” I practically shouted. “Love doesn’t involve sneaking around and hiding phone calls! Melissa, wake up and smell the coffee — or maybe the cheap perfume clinging to his clothes!”
That was the final straw. Melissa’s face hardened, her eyes blazing with hurt and anger. “This is my marriage, Nancy,” she snapped. “If you can’t be supportive, then maybe you should leave.”
My heart sank.
I hadn’t meant to drive a wedge between them, just to open her eyes. But clearly, logic wasn’t winning this battle.
Defeated, I grabbed my abandoned wine and shuffled out, the slam of the door echoing my failure in my ears.
Sitting alone in my apartment, I knew I couldn’t just leave Melissa like that, living in a fool’s paradise. But how could I break through the wall she’d built around her perfect little world?
An idea, crazy and impulsive, sparked in my mind. Maybe I could give Melissa the undeniable PROOF she needed.
With a deep breath, I grabbed my phone and dialed Victor’s number. The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before a smooth, familiar voice answered.
“Hey Nancy, this is unexpected,” Victor said, a hint of surprise lacing his tone.
Ugh, the nerve of this guy! I steeled myself, channeling my anger into a voice dripping with feigned flirtation.
“Hey Victor,” I purred, “Guess what? I got promoted! To celebrate, I’m thinking of having a little ‘get-together’ with a special friend this weekend. And guess who immediately popped into my head?”
Silence. I held my breath, willing him to take the bait.
“Well?” I pressed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Are you coming…?”
Then, a low chuckle traveled through the phone. My stomach clenched. “Well, Nancy,” Victor said, his voice smooth as silk, “I’m always up for a good time. Tell me more…”
The sound of Victor’s chuckle sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of disgust and a surge of morbid satisfaction. He’d taken the bait. Now came the tricky part.
“Actually,” I interjected, trying to sound casual, “I was thinking of something a little more… discreet.” I could practically hear the question marks forming in his head. Perfect.
“Discreet, huh?” he repeated, his voice laced with a hint of intrigue. “What did you have in mind?”
I took a deep breath. This was it. “There’s this new upscale pub downtown,” I said, dropping the name of the very same pub he frequented with his “other women.” “Heard it’s got a private room, perfect for a little… celebration.”
A beat of silence followed. Then, a low whistle came through the phone. “Now that’s interesting, Nancy,” Victor said, his voice a touch huskier. “Are you sure about this? You know, Melissa…”
“Don’t worry about Melissa,” I cut him off. “She won’t know a thing… I promise. It’ll be just you and me.”
There was another pause, longer this time. My heart pounded in my chest. Was he suspicious? Had I blown the whole operation?
Finally, Victor spoke. “Alright, Nancy,” he purred. “You’ve convinced me. Just tell me what time, and I’ll be there… in your arms, darling.”
Relief washed over me so strong I almost dropped the phone. He’d agreed! My gamble had paid off. “Great!” I said, forcing a light tone. “I’ll text you the details later. Just make sure you come alone, okay?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Victor chuckled. “See you then, babe.”
With that, the line went dead. I stared at the phone, elation and dread bubbling in my stomach. I’d set the trap, but now what? Would Melissa actually believe me? More importantly, would she be strong enough to face the truth, however ugly it might be?
With a mischievous grin, I fired off a text to Melissa, apologizing profusely for my outburst the other night.
“Ugh, Nancy,” she replied, her message dripping with annoyance. “Can we talk about this later? I’m swamped right now.”
I wasn’t about to give up. I bombarded her with messages, each one brimming with fake remorse and a desperate plea to meet for drinks.
“Come on, Mel,” I texted, “Let’s just grab a quick drink and clear the air. My treat! This Saturday. Please.”
Finally, on Friday afternoon, I received a one-word reply: “Fine.”
Victory! Saturday arrived. Today was the day I’d expose Victor for the lying, cheating weasel he was. I spent hours primping, slipping into the most elegant dress I could find.
Walking into the upscale pub, I felt completely out of my comfort zone.
As promised, Victor was already there, perched at the bar, nursing a drink on the rocks. His eyes lit up when he saw me.
“Nancy,” he exclaimed, a smooth smile gracing his lips, “you look absolutely… like a goddess.”
I plastered on a sheepish grin. “Thanks, Victor,” I purred, forcing down the wave of disgust rising in my throat. “Mind if I join you?”
He gestured to the empty stool beside him. We settled in, making awkward small talk as the bartender mixed me a drink. Victor kept stealing glances at me, a flicker of suspicion replacing his initial amusement.
“So,” he finally started, his voice laced with curiosity, “what’s with the sudden change of heart, Nancy? You’re usually not one for crowded bars or… well… me.”
Busted. I cleared my throat, mentally scrambling for a convincing story.
“Honestly, Victor,” I confessed, batting my eyelashes for effect, “I’ve been kicking myself ever since the dinner the other night. You were so kind, so attentive… it awakened something in me.”
Victor’s eyebrows shot up. This was it. Time to reel him in.
I leaned closer, “Maybe,” I said, my cheeks burning with shame, “I was a little afraid to act on my feelings before. But hey, life’s too short, right?”
A slow smile spread across Victor’s face. He scanned me from head to toe, his gaze lingering a little too long on certain curves. I felt a wave of nausea roll through me, but I pushed it down. This was all for Melissa.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my purse. A text from Melissa. My heart raced. “On my way,” it read
I quickly typed out a one-line reply: “Come straight to the bar.” Sliding my phone back into my purse, I took a deep breath.
Just then, the pub door swung open and Melissa walked in.
My cue. I threw my arms around Victor’s neck and leaned in for a kiss. “Kiss me, you fool!” I whispered dramatically.
Victor, clearly flustered, hesitated for a split second before returning the kiss. It was a clumsy, awkward peck, but it was enough. I pulled back, a triumphant smile lighting up my face..
“See, Melissa?” I declared, turning towards my friend.
“This is what I’ve been talking about! Your husband’s a complete jerk!”
The smile vanished from Melissa’s face, replaced by a mask of shock and sheer disbelief. Victor, however, sputtered to his feet, his face flushed crimson.
“Melissa, honey,” he stammered, “it’s not what it looks like! She’s the one who—”
“Don’t even try to lie your way out of this, Victor!” I cut him off, relishing the momentary power shift. “The jig is up!”
But before I could launch into a full-blown exposé, Victor whipped out his phone. A sickening feeling of dread crept into my stomach. He pressed a button, and a voice filled the air — my voice. Crystal clear, unmistakable.
“Hey Victor,” the voice purred, “guess what? I got promoted! To celebrate, I’m thinking of having a little ‘get-together’ with a special friend this weekend. And guess who immediately popped into my head?”
My blood ran cold.
The voice on the phone was mine, the exact words I’d used to set the trap. Victor had recorded our conversation. I was caught, my elaborate plan backfiring spectacularly.
“See, honey,” Victor finished, his voice dripping with false sincerity, “I told you she was the one coming on to me. I’m innocent. I just came here for a drink. It was all her.”
Melissa’s face contorted with anger and confusion. She looked between me and Victor, her gaze lingering on the phone in his hand. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating.
“NANCY,” Melissa yelled, “is this… TRUE??”
My throat constricted. I wanted to scream, to explain, but the words wouldn’t come.
The weight of my actions pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating. Shame burned in my cheeks, hotter than any cocktail I’d ever tasted.
“I…” I stammered. “I just… I wanted you to see—”
“See what?” Melissa cut me off, her voice rising.
“See you ruin my marriage with your lies and accusations? You almost made me throw away the best thing that ever happened to me, all on the basis of some twisted suspicion!”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “You call yourself my best friend? This is how you treat me?”
I opened my mouth to apologize, but the words died in my throat. Melissa was right. My misguided attempt at helping had backfired spectacularly. I’d hurt her, betrayed her trust, and all for nothing.
Victor, sensing his advantage, placed a comforting hand on Melissa’s shoulder. “There, there, honey,” he murmured. “Don’t listen to her. She’s clearly jealous of what we have.”
Melissa shot him a watery smile, leaning into his touch. My stomach churned. Had I been so blinded by my suspicion that I’d missed the genuine affection between them? Or was Victor that good of an actor?
“Get out of my life, Nancy,” Melissa yelled. “And don’t you ever contact me again.”
There was no denying the finality in her voice. Tears streamed down my face as I watched Melissa stumble out of the bar with Victor in tow.
A week had passed since that fateful night. The silence from Melissa was deafening. My calls went unanswered, my texts left on read. Social media confirmed my worst fear — I was blocked.
Sitting alone in my apartment, replaying the scene over and over in my head, I felt a wave of self-loathing wash over me. I’d messed up, royally.
So, am I wrong? The answer, unfortunately, is clear. Yes. Yes, I was wrong. Dead wrong.
My intentions, while misguided, may have stemmed from a place of care. But the way I went about it? A complete disaster.
You know, I get it. Looking back, my whole plan to expose Victor was a dumpster fire wrapped in a trainwreck. But honestly, do you think I was the villain here? Sure, I messed up, big time. But Melissa deserved to know the truth, right? Or was I way out of line for meddling? Hit me with your thoughts.
I Got a Frantic Video Message from My Mom — I Was Shocked to Find Out What Dad Had Done to Her
While Annie is having a lazy Saturday, sitting around and scrolling through social media, a video message from her mom pops up. As she hits play, Annie discovers that one of her father’s pranks has left her mother scared and alone. Annie rushes over to her parents’ house, ready to teach her father a lesson.
I didn’t think my dad would ever take one of his dumb jokes this far, but here we are, having lived through it. My phone lit up earlier today with a video message from my mom that made my heart stop for a second.
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw, and now, hours later, I’m still trying to process the whole thing.
A worried young woman | Source: Midjourney
Let me back up a second and give you some context on how everything went down. My dad is what you’d call “old school.” He has this grumpy exterior, like he came straight out of the 1970s and never quite adapted to life in the present.
He’s not a bad guy, but he can be ridiculously difficult to get along with. He doesn’t do heart-to-hearts or deep conversations. Instead, he sheds part of his grumpiness off when he’s at home and leans into his pranking nature. They are harmless, annoying little pranks that he thinks are hilarious but leave my mom rolling her eyes and sighing.
A grumpy man | Source: Midjourney
Most of the time, Dad does really stupid stuff like hiding Mom’s glasses when she’s looking for them or misplacing her keys right when she’s about to leave. These pranks have always been annoying, but nothing too wild.
Except today.
Today, Dad decided to really outdo himself.
I was in my little apartment about 20 minutes from my parents’ house. I was minding my own business, sipping on a soft drink and scrolling through TikTok, when my phone pinged with a message from my mother.
A woman sitting in her living room | Source: Midjourney
A video message.
The thumbnail was black, and all I could hear was her voice, which was muffled and kind of shaky. Like she was afraid of something.
That’s when I got a bit panicked. Mom wasn’t the type to send video messages. To be honest, I didn’t think she knew how to do it. Immediately, I knew that something was off.
I tapped play, and there she was. The camera was all shaky, and she was crouched in a corner, whispering like she was about to be caught by someone or something.
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
“Annie,” she breathed into the phone. “Sweetheart, your dad… he locked me in the basement. Can you come help me? He thinks this is funny. All because he wanted to eat in peace. I think there are rats or mice in the basement, Annie. Come quickly.”
What. The. Hell.
I was so shocked, I nearly dropped my phone onto the floor. Locked in the basement? He locked her in the basement? And it was supposed to be funny?
A worried woman | Source: Midjourney
My dad, in all his “wisdom,” had apparently decided that the best way to enjoy his dinner in peace was to lock my mother in the basement. Just so that she wouldn’t remind him to eat his veggies during a precious football game? He truly didn’t care about his cholesterol.
I called her back immediately, but it went straight to voicemail.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up!” I muttered.
A worried woman | Source: Midjourney
My brain went straight into overdrive. My mom never asked for help unless things were way beyond something she could do for herself. She was a woman who could handle herself. I mean, she’s lived with my father for years, so that had to count for something. But she was also a woman who was deeply afraid of the dark and confined places.
So now, she was locked in the basement and not answering her phone. Dad had really crossed a line with this one.
I texted her, but there was no response.
A woman sitting in a basement | Source: Midjourney
“Maybe her phone died, Annie,” I told myself. “She must be so afraid… and livid.”
I knew I had to get to her as soon as possible.
I grabbed my keys and bolted out of my apartment. I live about twenty minutes away from my parents, but I swear, I made it in twelve.
Car keys on a table | Source: Midjourney
The entire drive, I was fuming, and I already knew how this was going to end. My dad thought he was clever, but if there’s one thing I inherited from him, other than his eye color, it’s the ability to come up with a solid revenge plan.
“I can’t believe the nerve of this man,” I said to myself as I turned into our street.
When I got to the house, I didn’t even bother knocking. I had my spare key, so I let myself in. As soon as I stepped inside, I could hear the muffled sound of the TV blaring from the living room.
A woman in a car | Source: Midjourney
Classic Dad.
He was probably sitting there, stuffing his face with steak. It was a home routine—Saturdays meant steak for dinner. Little did he know, I was about to teach him a lesson, too.
I headed straight for the basement. Sure enough, the door was locked, but the key hung from the hook next to the door.
I knocked softly, and Mom’s relieved voice came through the wood.
A woman standing next to a door | Source: Midjourney
“Honey, is that you?” she whispered.
“Yeah, it’s me, Mom,” I said. “Hang tight, we’re getting you out of there.”
I unlocked the door, and when my mother stepped out, she didn’t even look mad. She just looked tired. But there was a glint in her eye, like she wanted to get revenge on my father, too.
“Dad’s still in the living room,” I said. “He didn’t even hear me come in.”
A frowning older woman | Source: Midjourney
“Oh? He’s still enjoying his victory, then?”
“Yeah, well, that’s going to be short-lived, Mom,” I said.
There’s one thing about my father: he loves his “throne.” It’s a ridiculous electric recliner that he spent way too much money on a few years ago. He loves it more than any person in the world, which is sad and pathetic, but true.
A man sitting on a recliner | Source: Midjourney
The chair has heated seats, a massage feature, and even USB ports. He treats it like it’s something sacred in our home.
Naturally, I aimed my revenge at it.
I told my mom the plan, and she laughed nervously. We crept toward the living room where Dad was zoned out, still glued to his game, digging into his dinner.
A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney
I quietly unplugged his precious chair from the wall. And the best part? This man didn’t even notice a thing. Then, with my mom watching, I pulled a little tube of super glue that I had taken from the kitchen.
I smeared it over the chair’s buttons, still absolutely perplexed that my father didn’t register that I was in the room, right next to him.
After that, Mom and I went back to the kitchen. We sat on the bar stools in silence as Mom opened a tub of cookies for us to nibble on.
A container of chocolate chip cookies | Source: Midjourney
Ten minutes later, the game went to half-time. We could hear Dad shift in his chair and he tried to press the recline button. Nothing happened. He frowned and pressed it again, harder this time.
Still nothing.
“What the heck?” he grumbled, fiddling with the controls. Then, I saw it. The moment when the realization hit him.
A man sitting on a recliner | Source: Midjourney
He started pulling at the armrests, trying to get up, but his hands were stuck. His face turned from confusion to full-on panic.
“What’s wrong, Frank?” Mom asked, strolling into the living room.
“The darn chair is broken!” he complained.
“Oh, really? Maybe because you overuse it. But wasn’t it fine before you locked me in the basement?” Mom asked.
My father’s eyes widened.
An expressionless woman | Source: Midjourney
“You didn’t… Wait! How did you get out?” he asked.
“Annie,” Mom said simply.
I stepped out from my spot in the kitchen, where I had been recording their conversation.
“Smile for the camera, Dad,” I said. “This is going in the family group chat!”
“You wouldn’t dare, Annie!” he barked at me, tugging helplessly at his stuck hands.
“Oh, but I would,” I said.
A man sitting in a recliner | Source: Midjourney
I pressed send, and the replies started rolling in soon. If there was one thing my father hated, it was being seen beyond his usual façade. He didn’t want people to see the real him. And this was him, an ugly person.
“I’m taking Mom home with me for the rest of the weekend,” I said. “You can figure out how to get yourself off your throne.”
Mom went upstairs to pack herself an overnight bag. I didn’t want to leave her with Dad. But I doubt he’ll be locking anyone in the basement anytime soon.
A smiling young woman | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
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