He Cheated, I Chose Better

On the day of my tenth wedding anniversary, I was kidnapped by my husband’s rival.

A cold blade pressed against my throat as the kidnapper forced me to call Maxine. My hands trembled as I dialed, but his phone was unreachable—over and over again.

I closed my eyes, my heart already numb, and in the next breath, I was pushed from a helicopter—10,000 meters above a lake.

By some miracle, I survived.

I spent three days unconscious in the hospital. When I finally opened my eyes, there was no one by my bedside. Not even him.

The first notification on my phone was a social media post.

It was from my husband’s secretary.

“Maxine's stamina is incredible. I loved the ‘gift’ he gave me after I got off the plane.”

Attached was a photo: a hotel bed, messy with rose petals.

The post was dated exactly three days ago.

So while I was teetering on the edge of death, the "urgent matter" that kept my husband unavailable… was a romantic night with his secretary.

Hands shaking, I scrolled through my contacts and tapped a name I had buried long ago.

“You once asked me,” I said quietly, steady despite the storm raging inside me, “if I’d consider being with you if I ever got divorced. I’m ready now. My answer is yes.”

“I’ve waited so long for this moment,” he replied. “When you’re ready, I’ll marry you.”