My husband, Mark, was heading off on another “business trip” to Paris, and I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to surprise him. We had been distant lately, and I hoped the romance of the city of love could rekindle our spark. I bought a ticket on the same flight without telling him, envisioning his delighted reaction when I revealed my plan.
But my dream of a romantic getaway was shattered the moment I found him at the airport. Instead of happiness, his face twisted with shock and anger. “What the hell are you doing here? Get lost,” he hissed.
Before I could process his words, a young woman appeared behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Hey, babe. Who’s this?” she asked, smiling at me like I was a stranger.
I froze, my heart pounding. Then Mark delivered the final blow. “Nobody,” he said coldly. Nobody. The word rang in my ears, cutting deeper than I thought possible.
I stood there, stunned, waiting for an explanation. But instead, Mark turned his back on me and told me to pretend I hadn’t seen anything. He walked away with her, leaving me humiliated and seething.
—
Fueled by rage and disbelief, I decided to play his game. I boarded the same plane, sitting far enough away to stay out of sight but close enough to observe. They giggled and whispered like teenagers, oblivious to the fact that I was right there.
As the plane ascended, I concocted my plan. I wasn’t going to sit idly by while he paraded his infidelity in front of me. Revenge was already taking shape in my mind.
—
Mid-flight, I approached the flight attendant with a smile and quietly explained my situation. She was sympathetic and discreet, helping me compose a handwritten note to be delivered to Mark. It read:
*Dear Mark,*
*Since I’m “nobody,” I thought I’d make myself useful. By the time we land in Paris, you’ll find your credit cards frozen, your bags confiscated from our home, and your mistress enjoying a lovely surprise from me: I’ve booked her a one-way ticket back to wherever she came from. Don’t bother coming home. Your things will be waiting at the curb.*
*Sincerely, Nobody.*
The flight attendant, amused by my boldness, delivered the note right into Mark’s lap. I watched from a distance as he read it, his face blanching, his jaw tightening. The woman beside him peered over his shoulder, her expression morphing from curiosity to alarm. Mark scanned the plane, clearly looking for me, but I stayed tucked away, enjoying the chaos I had set in motion.
—
When we landed, I calmly disembarked, watching from a distance as Mark frantically tried to explain to his mistress why she had been rebooked on a flight home. His anger boiled over when he realized he couldn’t access his credit cards or bank accounts. Meanwhile, I checked into a luxurious Parisian hotel, determined to salvage the trip for myself.
I spent the next week exploring Paris, enjoying the art, food, and beauty of the city—on his dime, of course. Meanwhile, Mark’s frantic calls and texts flooded my phone. I ignored every single one.
—
When I returned home, I filed for divorce. My lawyer made sure Mark’s betrayal didn’t leave me empty-handed, and I began to rebuild my life. The humiliation and heartbreak I had felt at the airport were replaced by a sense of empowerment. I had turned the tables and walked away stronger.
As for Mark, the last I heard, his “mistress” didn’t stick around once his money dried up. Karma, it seems, had the final word.
