Divorce the Cheat, Return for Revenge

Petra caught another woman carelessly flirting with her own husband right in front of her eyes, barely forty eight hours of her postpartum recovery.

The baby’s cry pierced through the house again, thin but stubborn, like a tiny alarm that refused to be ignored.

Petra stood in the kitchen, exhausted.

Two pots were on fire on two different burners. One had soup bubbling quietly, while the other held rice that needed constant attention so it wouldn’t burn. The heat from the stove mixed with the heaviness in her body. Her waist still ached from childbirth, and every movement reminded her that her body had not yet recovered.

Yet she was the one cooking.

The baby cried again.

Petra turned her head toward the sitting room and raised her voice.

“Honey, the baby is crying!” she called. “See if he needs a diaper change!”

Her voice carried down the short hallway toward the living room.

The cry continued.

No response.

Petra stirred the soup, tasted it quickly, then adjusted the flame under the rice. The baby cried again, louder this time, as if protesting the entire world.

Her heart began to pound with irritation. Pete was just in the sitting room with his friends. The baby’s nursery was literally beside them. How could they not hear?

She quickly turned the rice so it wouldn’t burn, wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, and hurried out of the kitchen.

The moment she stepped into the living room, the smell hit her first.

Cigarette smoke and strong alcohol.

The entire room looked like a bar.

Pete sat on the couch.

Around him were his usual friends — Martins Jordan, Eric Painter, and Zoe Fox.

They were laughing loudly.

Playing cards.

Drinking.

Completely carefree.

Petra felt something tighten in her chest.

Zoe leaned closer to Pete, staring at his face with exaggerated curiosity.

“There’s something beside your mouth,” she said playfully.

Pete frowned slightly. “Where?”

“Here,” she replied.

Before anyone could process it, Zoe climbed onto Pete’s lap on the couch as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Petra froze.

Zoe tilted Pete’s chin slightly with her fingers.

Then she leaned forward.

Their lips touched.

Pete’s eyes widened in surprise but he didn’t pull away.

For a brief moment, their lips remained pressed together.

Martins and Eric exchanged looks. Their eyebrows shot up.

Then they burst into quiet laughter, covering their mouths like mischievous schoolboys.

Petra stood there, completely stunned.

Her mind refused to process what she had just seen.

Her own husband.

Kissing another woman right in front of her.

Zoe Fox was supposed to be Petra’s friend. At least, that was what Petra had believed.

Zoe had been Pete’s best friend long before Petra entered his life. Pete always described her as a tomboy — loud, playful.

Petra had trusted that explanation. But not since they got married and Zoe's visit to the house increased.

Now she watched as her husband’s hands rested comfortably on Zoe’s waist.

Petra’s throat tightened but she said nothing.

Instead, she turned quietly and walked away.

The baby was still crying. That mattered more.

She went into the nursery and picked up the baby gently. The little boy’s face was scrunched up in frustration.

“Okay, okay,” she murmured softly. “Mommy is here.”

She laid him on the changing table and opened the diaper.

The smell filled the room instantly.

Footsteps approached behind her.

“Ugh!” Pete’s friends exclaimed almost in unison.

“It stinks!” Zoe added, dramatically covering her nose.

Petra ignored them.

She continued cleaning the baby carefully.

“Pete, go check on your son,” Zoe said in disgust.

Pete sighed.

He stood up reluctantly and walked toward Petra.

“Dear, let me do it,” he said, reaching for her hand gently. “I got caught up in the card game.”

Petra didn’t respond.

She simply finished wiping the baby.

Zoe watched them for a moment from behind.

Then suddenly she stood up and walked over.

She leaned slightly beside Pete, peering down at the baby with curiosity.

“This kid really takes after you,” she said with a laugh. She pointed at the baby’s tiny body. “He has a birthmark on his butt, just like you.”

Petra froze.

Her hands stopped moving. Slowly, she turned her head towards Zoe.

“What did you say?” Petra asked quietly, her eyes wide.

Zoe paused.

For a split second, she glanced at Pete. Then both of them laughed softly.

“Petra,” Zoe began with an innocent smile. “I only noticed it the day you gave birth, while swimming with Pete.”

Petra stared at them.

Her gaze moved slowly between Zoe and her husband.

Something silent passed between them.

She could see the connection. The familiarity.

Zoe continued talking casually. “I thought it was just dirt,” she said with a laugh. “I even tried rubbing it, but it wouldn’t come off.”

Pete quickly nudged Zoe with his elbow.

A clear warning for her to stop talking.

Zoe halted immediately.

Then she smiled and turned back to Petra as if nothing had happened.

“Petra, Pete and I are best friends,” she said.

Before anyone could react, her hands flew around Pete’s neck. She hugged him from the side.

Pete’s eyes widened slightly. But again… he didn’t resist.

“There’s nothing between us,” Zoe added sweetly. “Otherwise, you’d never get to marry him.”

Pete slowly lifted his eyes to meet Petra’s gaze.

The question in her eyes was sharp.

Martins and Eric were still seated on the couch, quietly laughing at the tension in the room.

Pete swallowed.

Then he gently removed Zoe’s hands from around his neck.

“Do you ever know your strength?” he said lightly. “What are you doing?”

Zoe laughed.

“Watch out,” Zoe added jokingly, curling his fist. “Or I’ll—”

He pretended to punch her shoulder.

“Enough!”

The sharp voice cut through the room like a whip.

Everyone froze.

Zoe’s fist stopped midair.

All four of them turned toward Petra.

She stood beside the changing table, breathing heavily.

Her patience had snapped. Petra slowly turned to face her husband.

“Pete,” she said through clenched teeth, “do you have anything to explain?”

Pete’s mouth opened slightly. “I…” he started but the words refused to come out.

Martins quickly stood up.

“Zoe’s always been a tomboy,” he said with an awkward smile, stepping between them. “We got used to joking around. We’re just buddies who know each other inside out. Don’t take it to heart.”

“Yes, Petra,” Eric added quickly, nodding like a child caught in trouble. His tie hung loosely around his neck. “Exactly.”

Petra stared at them.

Then she let out a small, humorless chuckle.

“Really?”

“Yes, Petra,” Zoe said confidently. “It’s normal. You’re overreacting. We’re just buddies who know each other inside out. Pete and I are best friends.”

Petra could hear her own heartbeat pounding loudly in her ears.

Her mind replayed the last few minutes.

Zoe's care-free remark on touching Pete's butt, the sight of her flirting and kissing her husband.

The way she leaned on him like she belonged there.

Everything suddenly began to make sense.

The room felt too small.

Too hot.

Her anger rose like fire in her chest.

Her eyes slowly moved from Zoe… to Pete.

Then back to Zoe.

“I’m not overreacting, bitch!” Petra thundered, her voice cold, as she lifted the diaper and threw it into Zoe’s face, the brown stains smeared across her cheek and nose.