Finally, his profile came up, with him smiling that same smile that had once made me fall in love. I took a deep breath as I swiped right. Fortunately, we matched right away. GAME ON!
The first step was to build a connection. I knew everything about Dexter: his favorite movie (“The Godfather”), his favorite whiskey (Glenfiddich), and even his secret love for 80s pop music. Using Leah’s profile, I mirrored his interests and crafted a persona that would be irresistible to him.
I made sure to mention my love for “The Godfather” in my bio and put up a picture of Leah holding a glass of Glenfiddich. I knew exactly how to pull him in. We started chatting, and he took the bait. Our conversations were filled with flirty banter and deep talks about life.
“Wow, you love ‘The Godfather’ too?” Dexter messaged. “It’s my all-time favorite movie.”
I replied as Leah, “Yes, it’s a masterpiece! And Glenfiddich is my go-to drink while watching it. What about you?”
“Same here,” he wrote back. “Nothing beats a good movie and a great whiskey.”
He told Leah about his dreams and fears, things he hadn’t shared with me in years. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m stuck in a rut,” he confided one evening. “I have all these plans, but I can’t seem to make them happen.”
“I’m here for you,” I typed. “You can talk to me about anything.”
Every evening, I’d sit on the couch next to him, pretending to scroll through my phone while he texted Leah. It was surreal, living under the same roof and harboring so many secrets. I’d glance at him out of the corner of my eye, watching as he smiled at his phone, completely engrossed in his messages to Leah.
After a few weeks of daily chats, I knew he was hooked. It was time for phase two: gaining his trust. I started hinting at financial troubles, weaving tales of sudden car repairs and unexpected medical bills.
Over the next few days, I continued to spin stories of desperation to Dexter through Leah’s account. He was eager to help, wanting to be her knight in shining armor. It didn’t take long for him to start transferring money to the account I had set up.
“I don’t ever want you to feel alone, Leah. You can always count on me,” he texted Leah one day while sitting right next to me. “Remember, I’m only a message away.”
This Dexter that I had come to know as Leah was someone I didn’t recognize as Phoebe. It pained me to continue the game, but I knew I had to keep going.
Each sob story I fed him made him more determined to save this imaginary woman. Living this double life was exhausting but thrilling. Every day, I played the devoted wife, making breakfast for our kids and chatting with Dexter about his day at work.
Every night, I transformed into Leah, the damsel in distress who had him wrapped around her finger. “Dex, I don’t know how to thank you enough,” I texted. “You’ve been my rock through all of this.”
“I just want to see you happy,” he responded. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I watched as he fell deeper into the trap, blinded by his infatuation and guilt. He was constantly checking his phone, eager for Leah’s messages, completely unaware of the truth that lay just beneath the surface.
The third step was all about increasing the stakes. With his trust secured, I began to ask for larger amounts, weaving elaborate stories that played on his desire to be a hero. One evening, I texted him as Leah, “Dex, I don’t know what to do. My car broke down, and the repair costs are way more than I can afford. I’m so scared I’ll lose my job if I can’t get to work.”
He replied almost instantly, “Don’t worry, Leah. I’ll take care of it. How much do you need?”
“About $1,500,” I wrote back, holding my breath.
“Consider it done,” he replied, and minutes later, the money was in my account.
Each transaction brought me closer to my goal. I asked for help with rent and then “emergency” medical procedures for a sick family member. Dexter was more than willing to help, convinced he was the hero Leah needed. What he didn’t realize was that he was funding my escape.
While he was distracted by his affair, I meticulously planned my departure. I found a new place to live, made arrangements for the kids, and discreetly packed our essentials.
Every day, I gathered a little more evidence of his infidelity and financial transactions, making sure I had enough to protect myself if he tried to contest anything later. I took screenshots of our chats, saved copies of bank statements, and even recorded a few of our conversations where he talked about his “true feelings” for Leah.
“Leah, I feel like I can be honest with you,” he wrote one evening. “I’ve never felt this way before. You understand me in a way no one else does.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” I replied, heart pounding. “I care about you a lot, Dex.”
“I care about you too,” he responded. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we could be together for real. I know it sounds crazy, but I think I might be falling for you.”
Reading his confession, I felt a mix of anger and satisfaction. I saved the conversation, knowing it would be crucial later. He had no idea that his heartfelt messages were sealing his fate.
The final step was to reveal my plan. I knew the perfect way to do it. I sent him a final message from the fake account, arranging a meet-up at a fancy restaurant.
“Dex, I feel like we’ve known each other forever. I think it’s time we finally meet in person. How about dinner at The Grand at 8 p.m. this Friday?”
He replied within seconds, “I’ve been waiting for this moment, Leah. I’ll be there.”
On the day of the meeting, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves. This was it.
I dressed in my best outfit, a simple yet elegant black dress that Dexter always said was his favorite. I wanted to look my best when I confronted him. I arrived at The Grand a bit early and took a seat at a quiet corner table where I could see the entrance clearly.
I ordered a glass of wine and sat there, watching the clock tick closer to 8 p.m. Finally, Dexter walked in, looking around eagerly. He was wearing the suit I had bought him for our anniversary a few years ago. He looked nervous but excited, completely unaware of what was about to happen.
As he scanned the room, I stood up and walked over to him. “Dexter,” I said, my voice steady.
He turned, his eyes widening in shock. “Phoebe? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I replied, holding up a folder. “But I think you know.”
He looked at the folder, confusion and panic mixing on his face. “What’s that?”
“Let’s sit down,” I suggested, guiding him to the table I had been sitting at. He followed, still looking dazed.
Once we were seated, I placed the folder in front of him. “Open it,” I said.
With shaking hands, he opened the folder and began to go through the contents. Inside were screenshots of our conversations, evidence of his infidelity, and a detailed list of all the money he had sent to Leah’s account—my account. His face turned pale as he realized he had been played.
“I knew all along,” I said calmly, watching him. “This was my way of getting back at you and securing my freedom. The money you sent to your ‘lover’ will help me and the kids start a new life away from you.”
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and anger. “Phoebe, I can explain—”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I cut him off. “You betrayed me, Dexter. You made vows to me, and you broke them. Now, you’re going to face the consequences.”
He opened his mouth to argue but closed it again, realizing the evidence was undeniable. There was nothing he could say to make it better or take back what he had done.
I stood up, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “I’m leaving, Dexter. Don’t try to find us, and don’t think you can contest anything. I have all the evidence I need to make sure you don’t.”
He sat there, stunned, as I walked out of the restaurant. I felt a strange sense of satisfaction and freedom as I left him behind. That evening, I moved into our new home, taking the kids with me. The money I had accumulated ensured we were comfortable and had a fresh start.
The new place was cozy, nothing extravagant but perfect for us. The kids were a bit confused at first, but I explained it was a new adventure. They were excited about their new rooms, and I felt a sense of relief knowing we were safe and away from Dexter’s deceit.
Over the next few days, I settled into our new life. I enrolled the kids in a new school and started looking for a job. With the money Dexter had unwittingly provided, we were stable for the time being. I even found myself smiling more, feeling lighter than I had in years.
One evening, as I was tucking the kids into bed, my daughter looked up at me and said, “Mom, are we going to be okay?”
I smiled and kissed her forehead. “Yes, sweetheart. We’re going to be just fine.”
As I sat in the living room later, sipping a cup of tea, I reflected on everything that had happened. Revenge is best served cold, and Dexter learned that the hard way. He thought he was cheating, but he was just falling into my trap. Now, I am free, financially secure, and ready to move forward without him.
10 Sweet Stories of People Who Deserve a «Parent of the Year» Award
It’s heartwarming to hear about people who have amazing parents who support them with love and laughter, even as they grow older. Their stories can really touch your heart and make you appreciate your own loved ones even more.
- Mom noticed Dad had red lipstick on his collar, but she didn’t confront him about it. A few days later, I discovered the foundation on his hand, which infuriated me. I confronted my dad, causing a big scene. He confessed that he was taking makeup classes, which only made my mom angrier.
However, my dad proved he wasn’t cheating; he had been practicing makeup on himself. He demonstrated his skills, showing how well he could do it. He explained that with two daughters, one grown and one young, and another on the way, he wanted to be a good dad who could do anything for them.
- At the age of 17, I suddenly realized that I didn’t fit the conventional standards of beauty among my peers. I faced ridicule for being red-haired, petite, and freckled. To hide my insecurities, I started covering my freckles with foundation, dyed my hair dark, and wore ill-fitting clothes. My dad noticed this change and gently probed to understand the reason behind it.
Eventually, I broke down, cried, and poured out my heart to him. In response, he simply said, «So what if you’re petite, with short legs, and red-haired? These are just features! Look at how cute you are! Embrace who you are.» His words struck a chord within me, and I finally began to accept and love myself for who I am.
- I stumbled upon a mysterious note tucked inside Dad’s wallet one day. Intrigued, I decided to investigate further. Days later, while rummaging through Dad’s briefcase, I discovered a hidden compartment containing another note and a small trinket. Confused and curious, I confronted Dad, demanding an explanation for these clandestine discoveries.
To my surprise, Dad confessed that he had been leaving secret love notes and tokens of affection around the house for Mom as a romantic gesture. Initially taken aback, I couldn’t help but feel touched by Dad’s thoughtfulness and creativity. Witnessing this sweet gesture between my parents sparked a newfound appreciation for the depth of their love, showing me the power of small surprises in keeping the spark alive in a relationship.
- Father returned from work, his expression serious as he approached my mom and me. He began, «Do you know who I just saw?!» We waited in anticipation as he continued, «I was walking in the dark, with only one lantern shining, when suddenly, a huge hare jumped out!» Mom and I exchanged surprised glances, only for Dad to pull out a large chocolate bar, saying, «So this bunny asked me to give you a chocolate bar!» Despite being 24 years old, I still fall for this joke about the bunny, as if I were still 6!
- After finishing school, I accompanied my mother to enroll in university. I passed the exams and was accepted, with my mother’s help in securing a dorm room. Late in the evening, my mom left, leaving me with all the money except for enough for her ticket back home. Excited to start this new chapter of independence, I eagerly joined new friends for a night of celebration.
What I didn’t know was that my mother missed the last bus and spent the entire night at the station, with only enough money for a ticket and a simple meal of tea and cookies. It wasn’t until 7 years later that I learned about her sacrifice, and I cried uncontrollably upon realizing her selflessness.
- During a family camping trip, I mentioned how much I’d love to try fishing. Despite not being huge fans of fishing themselves, my parents set up all the gear and patiently showed me how to cast a line. Throughout the day, I struggled to catch anything, but they kept cheering me on with big smiles.
Finally, I caught my first fish—a tiny trout—and their excitement was contagious. It wasn’t until much later that I realized they had given up their fun to make sure I had a chance to try fishing. Their selfless gesture showed me just how much they cared, leaving a lasting impression on my heart.
- A week before my wedding, I discovered that my fiancé was cheating on me. Heartbroken, I turned to my mother for advice. While she sympathized with me, she urged me not to cancel the wedding. She reasoned that since everything was paid for, and I’d feel ashamed in front of relatives, it was best to go through with it for now, and later I could seek revenge and find peace. Reluctantly, I agreed.
However, my wedding day turned out to be the worst day of my life. Just before the ceremony, my dad noticed my distress and pulled me aside for a chat. I broke down and confessed everything to him. Instead of scolding me, he hugged me tightly and said, «Your happiness is what matters most. We’ll handle this together.» With his support, I confronted my cheating fiancé, expressed my true feelings, and walked away with my dignity intact. As we left, my dad proudly said, «That’s my girl!» and added a few words of affection.
- I remember my dad always getting really excited about very cheap, mundane foods like plain puffed rice cereal, bologna sandwiches, and unflavored steel-cut oats. He would get us all amped up about it, and we would want to eat it instead of the more expensive stuff we really wanted because of how much he talked it up. Now that I am older (and as a father myself), I don’t think he actually loved all these things that much. Instead, my parents just didn’t have the money to buy all that expensive food to feed three growing boys. © Rebelsoul3480 / Reddit
- A friend’s 14-year-old daughter boldly requested money for a tattoo—right on her face. While her mom resorted to calming herbal drinks, the father and daughter engaged in a serious discussion about the matter. Eventually, they agreed to visit a tattoo artist over the weekend. «I’ll pay double,» declared the father, «but first, you’ll feel the needle without any ink.»
During the appointment, the father discreetly instructed the artist to make the process as painful as possible. As the heart design began to take shape on her cheek, the daughter howled in agony—it hurt a lot. Despite the pain, they returned home that evening, all satisfied. It seems the father’s approach maintained a positive relationship with his daughter; after all, a stubborn refusal might have only led to more defiance.
- I went to visit my parents, feeling tired and overwhelmed with problems from all sides—work, friends, and personal issues. My mom and dad immediately sensed my mood and set out to cheer me up. They made my favorite comfort foods: cutlets with mashed potatoes and cake with tea.
Then, my father surprised me by borrowing a sled from a neighbor and taking me for a ride. For a couple of hours, all my worries melted away, and I felt like a child again—carefree and joyful. In those precious moments, I realized that no matter how old I am, I will always be my dad’s little daughter in his eyes.
We recommend reading a story of a woman who tried to warn her sister about her new boyfriend, but unfortunately, her sister didn’t take her advice. Now, she’s going through a tough divorce.
Preview photo credit jcomp / Freepik
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