
I was returning home after my third chemotherapy session. My body was weak, my legs barely carried me up the stairs to the apartment. When we first learned about the terrible diagnosis, my husband swore he would stay by my side, that he would take care of me no matter what.
But as soon as I opened the door, I froze. From the living room came romantic music and the voice of an unfamiliar woman.
When I stepped into the living room, I saw them.
They were lying on my couch. My husband, and next to him a blonde woman. They were hugging, kissing, and didn’t even notice me walk in.
— What… is this?.. — my voice trembled, I could hardly speak.

He turned, looked at me — weak, exhausted, with a hospital bracelet on my wrist. And he didn’t even blush.
— I didn’t expect you back so soon, — he said coldly. — Since you’re here, let’s not make this difficult. You have one hour to pack your things and leave.
— But you promised to stay by my side… You swore, — I whispered, fighting back tears.
— I’m tired of living with a sick woman! — he snapped. — I didn’t get married to play nurse. I want to enjoy life.

I went into the bedroom as if I really intended to pack. But instead, I pulled out my laptop. I had long had access to the surveillance cameras in the apartment — my husband never suspected they were still running.
Every move he made, every kiss with his mistress — everything was recorded. I gathered the evidence, checked the sound and video. And with one click, I sent it all to everyone who mattered to him: his parents, friends, colleagues, even his boss.
The files also went public online. And the mistress’s husband saw the footage of her kissing another man and whispering words of love.
Within hours, the real firestorm began.
My husband’s phone exploded with calls. Relatives demanded explanations, colleagues and business partners wrote that they wanted nothing more to do with him.
And the mistress, that blonde, suddenly found herself kicked out of her own home — her husband had seen the recording.

They no longer looked like a happy couple on my couch.
A day later, I saw him again.
In the hotel lobby, among strangers, he fell to his knees and begged for forgiveness. His voice trembled, panic filled his eyes. He had lost everything: the respect of his family, his career, his status, even the mistress who now also had nowhere to go.
But I will never forgive him!
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