My entitled husband booked first class for himself and his mom, leaving me in economy with the kids. But I wasn’t going to just sit back. I made sure his “luxury” experience had a little turbulence, turning his flight into a lesson he won’t forget.
I’m Sophie and let me tell you about my husband, Clark. You know the workaholic, always stressed type, who probably thinks his job is the center of the universe? Don’t get me wrong, I get it, but hello? Being a mom isn’t exactly a spa day either. Anyway, he really outdid himself this time. You ready for this?
Okay, so we were supposed to be visiting his family for the holidays last month. The whole point was to relax, bond as a family, and give the kids some fun memories. Simple enough, right?
Clark volunteered to book the flights, and I thought, “Great, one less thing for me to worry about.”
Oh, how naive I was.
“Clark, honey, where are our seats?” I asked, juggling our toddler on one hip and a diaper bag on the other. The airport was a maze of stressed-out families and businesspeople rushing to their gates.
Clark, my dear husband of eight years, was busy tapping away on his phone. “Oh, um, about that…” he mumbled, not even looking up.
I felt a knot forming in my stomach. “What do you mean, ‘about that’?”
He finally pocketed his phone and gave me that sheepish grin I’d come to dread.
“Well, I managed to snag an upgrade for me and Mom to first class. You know how she gets on long flights, and I really need to catch up on some peaceful rest…”
Wait. An upgrade for just the two of them? I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. It didn’t come.
“So, let me get this straight,” I snapped. “You and your mother are sitting in first class, while I’m stuck in economy with both kids?”
Clark had the audacity to shrug. The nerve of this guy. Argh.
“Ah, c’mon. Stop being a drama queen! It’s just a few hours, Soph. You’ll be fine.”
As if on cue, his mother Nadia appeared, designer luggage in tow. “Oh, Clark! There you are. Are we ready for our luxurious flight?”
She smirked as if she’d won an Olympic medal and I swear I could’ve melted under her gaze.
I watched as they sauntered off towards the first-class lounge, leaving me with two cranky kids and a growing desire for revenge.
“Oh, it’ll be luxurious alright,” I muttered, a delicious, petty plan brewing in my head. “Just you wait.”
As we boarded the plane, I couldn’t help but notice the grim difference between first class and economy. Clark and Nadia were already sipping champagne while I struggled to fit our carry-on into the overhead bin.
“Mommy, I want to sit with Daddy!” our five-year-old whined.
I forced a smile. “Not this time, sweetie. Daddy and Grandma are sitting in a special part of the plane.”
“Why can’t we sit there too?”
“Because Daddy’s a special kind of jerk.”
“What was that, Mommy?”
“Nothing, honey. Let’s get you buckled in.”
As I settled the kids, I caught a glimpse of Clark reclining in his spacious seat, looking all too pleased with himself. That’s when I remembered I had his wallet. Yep! Here’s how!
As we navigated the security checkpoint earlier, I subtly lagged behind. While Clark and Nadia were engrossed in a conversation, I discreetly slipped my hand into his carry-on. I quickly located his wallet, slipped it into my bag, and resumed my place in line as if NOTHING had happened. Smart, right? I know! I know!
Okay, so back to where we left off. A wicked grin spread across my face as I watched Clark. This flight was about to get a lot more interesting.
Two hours into the flight, my kids were asleep, and I was enjoying the peace and quiet. That’s when I saw the flight attendant approaching the first-class cabin with a tray of gourmet meals. Yum!
It was like watching a dog drool over a juicy steak while I was stuck with airline pretzels.
I watched as Clark ordered the most expensive items on the menu, complete with top-shelf liquor, indulging in every luxury available.
“Would you like anything from the snack cart, ma’am?” another flight attendant asked me.
I smiled. “Just water, please. And maybe some popcorn. I have a feeling I’m about to watch quite a show.”
The attendant looked confused but obliged.
As expected, about thirty minutes later, I saw Clark frantically searching his pockets. The color drained from his face as he realized his wallet was missing.
I couldn’t hear what was being said, but his body language told me everything. The flight attendant was standing firm, hand outstretched, waiting for payment.
Clark was gesturing wildly, his voice rising just enough for me to catch snippets.
“But I’m sure I had it… Can’t we just… I’ll pay when we land!”
I sat back, munching on my popcorn. The in-flight entertainment had nothing on this. Jeez, this was EPIC!
Finally, the moment I’d been waiting for arrived. Clark, looking like a scolded schoolboy, made his way down the aisle to economy class. And to me!
“Soph,” he whispered urgently, crouching next to my seat. “I can’t find my wallet. Please tell me you have some cash.”
I put on my best-concerned face. “Oh no! That’s terrible, honey. How much do you need?”
He winced. “Uh, about $1500?”
I nearly choked on my water. “Thousand five hundred bucks? What on earth did you order? The blue whale?!”
“Look, it doesn’t matter,” he hissed, glancing nervously back at first class. “Do you have it or not?”
I made a show of rummaging through my purse. “Let’s see… I’ve got about $200. Will that help?”
The look of desperation on his face was priceless. “It’s better than nothing, I guess. Thanks.”
As he turned to leave, I called out sweetly, “Hey, doesn’t your mom have her credit card? I’m sure she’d be happy to help!”
The color drained from Clark’s face as he realized he’d have to ask his mother to bail him out. This was better than any revenge I could have planned.
The rest of the flight was delightfully awkward. Clark and Nadia sat in stony silence, their first-class experience thoroughly ruined. Meanwhile, I enjoyed my economy seat with a newfound joy.
As we began our descent, Clark made one more trip back to economy.
“Soph, have you seen my wallet? I’ve looked everywhere.”
I put on my most innocent face. “No, honey. Are you sure you didn’t leave it at home?”
He ran his hands through his hair, frustration evident. “I could’ve sworn I had it at the airport. This is a nightmare.”
“Well,” I said, patting his arm, “at least you got to enjoy first class, right?”
The look he gave me could have curdled milk. “Yeah, real enjoyable.”
As he skulked back to his seat, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. Lesson learned!
After the flight, Clark was looking as sour as a lemon. Nadia had wisely disappeared into the restroom, probably to avoid the look on his face. I couldn’t blame her. It was one of those classic “if looks could kill” moments, and Clark’s mood wasn’t improving.
“I can’t believe I lost my wallet,” Clark muttered, patting down his pockets for the tenth time.
“Are you sure you didn’t leave it in first class?” I asked, doing my best to keep a straight face.
He shot me a glare. “I already checked. Twice.”
I bit my lip, holding back the grin threatening to break free. This was too good.
“Maybe it fell out during one of those fancy meals they served you.”
“Very funny, Soph. This isn’t a joke. There’s gotta be a way to track it down.”
He then let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. “I just hope someone didn’t pick it up and run off with it. All our cards are in there.”
“Yeah, that would suck!”
As Clark continued to grumble about his missing wallet, I casually zipped my purse shut, keeping my little secret tucked safely inside. I wasn’t about to let him off the hook just yet.
Besides, there was something oddly satisfying about watching him squirm a little after ditching us for first class.
As we walked out of the airport, I couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. I’d keep the wallet hidden for a while longer and treat myself to something nice with his card before handing it back. A little creative justice never hurt anyone!
So, fellow travelers, remember: if your partner ever tries to upgrade themselves and leave you behind, a little creative justice might just be the ticket to a happier journey. After all, in the flight of life, we’re all in this together… economy or first class.
My Fiancé Cheated On Me, So I Teamed up with His Lover’s Husband for Ultimate Revenge — Story of the Day
I thought my life with Mark was perfect until I found a hotel reservation for two. In Spain, I met Daniel, whose wife was also hiding secrets. Together, we planned our revenge, but what happened next surprised us both.
I sat on the couch, staring blankly at the wedding magazines spread across the coffee table. Just last week, Mark and I had been discussing venues and honeymoon destinations. Everything was supposed to be perfect. Supposed to be. But then, something shifted.
“Spain again?” I had asked Mark when he casually mentioned his upcoming trip. “Didn’t you just get back?”
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He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. “Work, babe. You know how it is.”
That evening, he flew off on his business trip, and I was left behind, bored out of my mind. I’d already done everything possible to keep myself busy.
Before, during these trips, we’d talk on the phone five or six times a day. But the phone calls became shorter and less frequent. Lately, I’d just been staring at my phone, willing it to ring.
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That evening, as I was cleaning out my inbox, I found the hotel reservation for two. At first, I laughed, thinking maybe Mark had accidentally used our vacation plans when booking his hotel in Spain.
But my heart sank as I scrolled through the details. Champagne and strawberries. I had an allergy to strawberries!
What does it mean? He isn’t alone in Spain! He is with someone else. Maybe right now, SHE’s eating those strawberries!
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“No, this can’t be right,” I whispered, pacing back and forth, gripping my phone tightly.
The email felt like a hot coal burning in my hand. Deep down, I knew. The pit in my stomach grew heavier. I grabbed my phone and called Claire, my best friend.
“You need to breathe,” she said, but her tone was anything but calm.
“I have to go to Spain, Claire. I have to see for myself,” I said, my voice shaking.
“You hate flying,” she reminded me.
“Watching my life fall apart from here is worse,” I replied, my fingers already booking the next flight.
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***
The flight to Spain was a nightmare from the start. My seat was cramped, the air felt stuffy, and my mind wouldn’t stop spinning with every possible scenario.
What if Mark is truly sorry? What if he will beg me to forgive him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t care at all?
I stared out the window, trying to distract myself, when suddenly, a cold splash hit my lap. I looked down to see tomato juice soaking into my jeans. Perfect. Just what I needed.
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“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” The man next to me, wide-eyed and horrified, started fumbling with napkins. “I swear, I didn’t mean to… I’m just… I’m just really clumsy.”
“It’s fine,” I muttered, dabbing at the red stain.
Of course, such things happen. Could anything else go wrong today?
“Let me make it up to you. How about I buy us a drink? I mean, unless you want to sit in awkward silence for the rest of the flight with juice all over your lap.”
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I couldn’t help but laugh despite everything. “Sure, why not? A drink could save the day.”
“I’m Daniel, by the way,” he said, offering his hand with a grin. “And I promise, I’m usually better with tomato juice.”
“Rebecca. And don’t worry, it’s not the worst thing to happen today.”
“Oh? Well, now I’m curious.”
I sighed, taking a sip of my drink.
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“I’m on my way to Spain to confront my fiancé. He’s… probably cheating on me.”
“Yikes. That’s… rough.”
“Yeah. I found a hotel reservation for two. Champagne, dinner… you know, the works.”
“Ouch,” Daniel winced, shaking his head. “And here I thought spilling juice on you was bad.”
“Honestly, it kind of fits the day I’ve been having.”
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Daniel leaned back in his seat, swirling his drink. “Well, get this. I’m flying to Spain to see my wife. Who, surprise, might also be cheating on me.”
I blinked, stunned for a second, before bursting into laughter. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I wish I was. But I’m not. It’s like some kind of messed-up cosmic joke, isn’t it? Two betrayed souls stuck on the same flight.”
“What are the odds of us sitting next to each other?”
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“Pretty slim, I’d say,” Daniel replied, raising his glass with cola. “To bad luck and strange coincidences?”
I clinked my glass against his. “And to being covered in tomato juice.”
***
By the time we landed, the tomato juice incident was a distant memory. We both had bigger things on our minds. As we grabbed our bags and headed for the exit, Daniel turned to me.
“So… where are you staying?”
“It’s here.” I opened the GPS on my phone.
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“Me too.”
I laughed again, shaking my head. “Of course you are. What’s next? We’re assigned the same room?”
As it turned out, that was exactly what happened. The hotel had overbooked, and the frazzled desk clerk apologized profusely, offering us a shared room.
I was too exhausted to argue, and honestly, too curious about what would happen next. We both stood there in stunned silence for a moment.
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“Well, I guess it’s just another chapter in this weird story.”
Daniel smirked. “Looks like fate wants us to be roommates.”
We agreed to share the space. What were the odds? Two strangers, both betrayed, stuck together in a foreign country. It was absurd. But so was everything else about that day.
***
We settled into the room, both of us giving each other space. It was an odd situation. After some awkward silence, we decided to have lunch on the balcony.
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I was picking at my salad when something caught my eye. I froze, my fork hovering mid-air. There, lounging by the pool, was Mark. But he wasn’t alone.
He was swimming too comfortably with a woman. And they looked… close. Way too close. In panic, I quickly ducked behind the balcony railing.
“That’s him,” I whispered, pointing shakily at the couple. “That’s Mark… with her.”
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I expected Daniel to say something, maybe a word of comfort. Instead, I noticed him tense up beside me. Without saying a word, he dropped down next to me on the balcony floor. He peered through the railing.
“That’s… my wife. Brenda.”
We both crouched there, our faces inches apart, staring through the slats of the railing like two kids spying on the neighbors. His wife. My fiancé. Together.
I turned to Daniel. “They’re cheating on us… with each other.”
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“This is like a bad sitcom.”
I raised my hand to shush him as we strained to hear their conversation. Brenda’s voice floated up, calm and collected like she was talking about the weather.
She was telling Mark her plan to divorce Daniel and live off the money she’d get from him. Mark, to my horror, was encouraging her, saying how great it would be.
I chuckled. “Are you… rich?”
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“Not rich enough for her.” He let out a bitter laugh.
We sat there for a moment, absorbing the insanity of the situation. Then, Daniel’s face lit up with an idea.
“Why don’t we give them a taste of their own medicine?”
“What do you mean?”
His kind of grin suggested nothing good was about to happen.
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“Let’s pretend we’re madly in love. Make a scene. We know where they’ll be having dinner tonight. Let’s give them something to talk about.”
My brain was struggling to keep up with the absurdity of the suggestion.
“That’s… ridiculous.”
“Exactly,” Daniel said. “It’s the perfect kind of ridiculous.”
It was childish, absurd, and completely out of character for me. But it was exactly what I needed.
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For the next few hours, we plotted. Surprisingly, Daniel had a sharp sense of style. At one point, he looked at my wardrobe and groaned.
“You dress like a grandma at 40,” he teased.
“Excuse me?” I laughed. “I thought you liked this sophisticated, mature look.”
Then, out of nowhere, he pulled out a stunning red dress from his suitcase.
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“I bought this for Brenda,” he said with a smirk, holding it up. “But I’m pretty sure it’ll look way better on you.”
I stared at the dress, then back at him, and burst out laughing. That was about to get very interesting.
***
That evening, we stepped out of the taxi, and for the first time in days, I felt… powerful. Daniel, dressed in a sharp suit, looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine, and I…
Well, that red dress did things I never thought possible. I almost didn’t recognize myself.
“You ready?” Daniel asked, offering me his arm with a playful smirk.
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“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, slipping my arm through his.
We walked into the restaurant like we owned the place. The moment we passed Mark and Brenda’s table, I could feel their eyes on us.
Mark’s jaw practically dropped. Brenda froze with her fork suspended mid-air. I squeezed Daniel’s arm tighter, reminding myself not to burst into laughter. It was perfect.
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We stopped by their table. Daniel leaned in, his voice loud enough for them to hear.
“Should we invite them to join us for dinner? After all, it’s such a small world.”
Mark and Brenda exchanged awkward glances before giving us a hesitant wave. What followed was one of the most painfully delightful dinners I’ve ever had.
Brenda barely said a word. Mark looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, fidgeting in his seat. Daniel was in his element, flashing that charming grin of his.
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“So, Mark, Brenda… how long have you two been enjoying Spain?” he asked casually.
“Uh, a few days,” Mark muttered. “Just a… spontaneous trip.”
Daniel didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, spontaneous! I love that. We should try that sometime, right, darling?”
I smiled sweetly, catching Mark’s bewildered expression. “Absolutely. Spontaneity is everything. Though, I’m not sure we could top your getaway.”
Mark’s face turned redder, and he shot a glance at Brenda, who was struggling to keep her composure.
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“We were actually about to leave,” Brenda said.
Then, the grand finale. Daniel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it slowly, revealing a stunning pair of diamond earrings.
“Brenda, I was planning to give you these. But I think they’ll suit my dear friend here much better.”
I didn’t suppress my grin as Brenda’s expression turned to pure horror.
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“You’ll never see a dime of my money,” Daniel added, his tone suddenly serious. “And as for the rest… well, I think we both know where we stand.”
Daniel glanced at me, giving me a playful wink. “Shall we, darling? We have a reservation at a much better place.”
We strolled out of the restaurant, heads held high, arm in arm. It wasn’t the ending I had expected when I boarded that plane to Spain, but at that moment, I realized I had finally let go of the life I thought I needed. And what I found was something far more valuable. I found myself.
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