PART 2: I put a laxative in my husband’s coffee before he left to see his mistress

PART 2: I put a laxative in my husband’s coffee before he left to see his mistress

I stepped out of the house, feeling the weight of everything I had just done pressing against my chest. It felt like a strange kind of victory, but at the same time, the knowledge that I had set the stage for something so much bigger was hard to shake. As I climbed into my car, I couldn’t help but feel an odd mix of satisfaction and guilt, the laxative working its way through his system, the image of his struggle still fresh in my mind.

I drove to the bar, trying to keep my emotions in check. But every few seconds, I found myself smiling uncontrollably, as if I had just won the lottery. Maybe it was just the satisfaction of knowing I had done something he would never forget. Something he had brought upon himself.

The bar was dimly lit, just the way I liked it. I spotted my friends at a booth in the back, their eyes lighting up when they saw me. They knew me too well. I didn’t have to say a word. The smile on my face told them everything they needed to know.

“Girl, you look like you’ve won a championship,” Emma said, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

I slid into the booth, feeling the tension finally start to leave my body. “You wouldn’t believe what I did today,” I said, shaking my head as I slid my purse off my shoulder.

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