Darling, could you pick me up from work? – She called her husband, hoping to avoid a tiring forty-minute journey on public transport after a long day.

**Diary Entry**

*15th May 2023*

Love, can you pick me up from work? Emily called her husband, hoping to skip the exhausting forty-minute bus ride after a gruelling day.

Sorry, busy, James replied curtly. In the background, the telly blaredproof he was at home, lounging.

A deep sadness settled over her. Their marriage was fraying. Only six months ago, hed promised to carry her through life. What had changed so quickly? Emily didnt know.

She kept herself fit, spending hours at the gym. Cooked brilliantlyno surprise, given she worked at a popular Manchester bistro. Never asked for money, never made a scene, always ready to fulfil his every whim

Youll wear him out like this, her mum warned. You cant spoil a man rotten.

I just love him, Emily replied with a helpless smile. And he loves me

*****

Turns out, he didnt. Biting her lip, she scrolled through the browser history. James spent his free hours on dating sites, messaging multiple women at once. *Why not just talk to me? Id have let him go. Why torment us both?*

Divorce, then. She was strongshed manage. But not without a little revenge.

That night, she signed up on the same site, found his profile, and struck up a chat. Grabbing a random photo online, she touched it up, certain hed take the bait. And he did.

Their messages flew thick and fast. James claimed he was single, ready for commitment, even children. Bragged about his *wonderful* charactershe laughed till tears spilled. She knew exactly how difficult he really was.

Lets meet, Emily typed, heart pounding.

Brilliant! he replied instantly. But my sisters staying over for uni exams. Neutral spot first, then a hotel?

*Seriously?* she muttered. *Who proposes a hotel straight off?* But it suited her fine.

How about mine? A cottage on the outskirts. No one to disturb us Would he fall for it?

Perfect! He jumped at the chanceprobably thrilled to save a quid. Send the address. Ill be there by ten.

25 Willow Lane. Ten sharp.

Count on it.

At nine, James faked an urgent work call. Couldnt find his car keys, grudgingly asking if shed seen them.

They were on the table, Emily said innocently, the keys digging into her pocket. Maybe the cat took them?

She had no intention of waiting. Packed her things swiftlythankfully, she still had her grandmothers old flat in Leeds. The only thing left behind? Divorce papers on the table.

James returned at dawn, fuming. Not only had the trip taken over an hour, but *Sophie* from the site was nowhere to be found.

The address was real, the cottage too. But the woman who answered was twice his size, clad in a sheer robe. Hed have paid a fortune to unsee it.

A struggle to escape! Had to hail a cabwaited ages, shivering in his thin jacket. The driver took the scenic route, dropping him somewhere unfamiliar first. Quite the adventure.

Only when he stumbled home and saw the divorce papers did he realise whod orchestrated it. Beside them, scrawled in red lipstick:

*Sweet revenge, love.*

**Lesson learnt:** Never underestimate a scorned womanespecially one with your browser history.