I buried our daughter alone, while my husband was vacationing with his mistress — he couldn’t even imagine what kind of revenge awaited him

I stood beside the small white coffin, barely able to stand on my feet. My little girl. My small joy. Gone so soon, so unfairly… And do you know what my husband texted me on the morning of the funeral?

“I can’t make it. Important meeting. I’ll call you later.”

I’ll call later. Later.

While I held our daughter’s favorite teddy bear in my hands, he was lying on a sunbed in Dubai, feeding strawberries to his mistress.

I found out everything. And it wasn’t by accident.

A month earlier, I had already sensed something was wrong. He started hiding his phone, leaving the room when it rang, “working late” almost eight days a week. I installed an app that saved backups of his messages and his location.

On the day of that so-called “important meeting,” I saw the photos. He was in a hotel with another woman. Laughing. Holding her hand. While I held the hand of our dead daughter.

He was enjoying life and didn’t care about his family. He chose her. My daughter didn’t deserve such disrespect from her own father. I still can’t understand how a parent can laugh and celebrate while their child is gone.

A week later, he came back. With gifts. With a fake expression of regret. With forced grief in his voice. I listened in silence. I smiled. And I said everything was fine. That I understood.

Then…

I pulled the documents off the shelf — chat logs, tickets, receipts, and the camera footage of him tenderly kissing his “important meeting” by the pool.

“This is your alibi, right?” I said calmly. “Well, this is your end.”

I had already filed for divorce. I had already contacted the press — he’s a well-known businessman. His company is now at the center of a scandal. Every investor knows exactly where he was while his daughter was being buried. Public opinion is merciless.

I sold everything that belonged to him. Everything he once called “ours” — is no longer his.