The Fool Who Got the Last Laugh
They always called me too nice. The kind of woman who’d bend over backward for anyone—especially family. And maybe I was. Maybe that’s why I didn’t see the knife sliding between my ribs until it was too late.
But secrets? Oh, they have a way of rotting from the inside out. And the one my sister thought I’d carry to my grave? That became my sweetest revenge.
The Good Wife
Once, I believed love was forever. That if I poured enough kindness into the world, it would come back to me.
Then I married Jack.
At first, he was everything—charming, attentive, the kind of man who’d surprise me with flowers just because. But after the wedding? He turned into a stranger.
Now, he lived on our couch, eyes glued to his phone, barely speaking unless it was to snap at me.
“Jack, remember when we used to dream about weekend getaways?” I asked one night, watching him flip through channels like I wasn’t even there.
He didn’t look up. “Why do you keep bringing this up, Marie? I’ve got work tomorrow.”
“We don’t even have dinner together anymore.”
He shrugged. “You’re here. I’m here. That’s ‘together.’ What more do you want?”
I clenched my fists, silent.
Then his phone buzzed. A smirk curled on his lips as he read the message.
And right on cue—my phone rang.
Linda.
I already knew what she’d say.
“Marie!” Her voice was all sugar and desperation. “Please, please, please—can you watch the kids tonight? You’re my lifesaver!”
“Linda, I was just there until midnight two days ago—”
“Oh, don’t be like that!” She sighed dramatically. *”You know I’m a single mom now. I need to *live* before I shrivel up into some lonely old hag!”*
I gritted my teeth. “Fine. I’ll be there in thirty.”
“Knew you’d say yes! You’re the best!”
She hung up before I could protest.
I grabbed my bag. Jack didn’t even glance up.
*”I’m going to Linda’s. *Again.* Her kids can’t raise themselves.”*
He stretched lazily. “Do whatever. I don’t care.”
The Trap
Linda’s house was quiet. The kids were asleep. I sat on the couch, sipping tea, watching the clock tick past 2 AM.
Seven hours.
What kind of meeting lasts seven hours?
I checked on the kids—Billy tucked in tight, little Cindy hugging her stuffed monkey. My chest ached. I loved them.
Then—pain.
A sharp, familiar tightness. My hand flew to my pocket.
No. No, no, no—
My inhaler was empty.
I scrambled through my bag, finding an old one—just a few weak puffs left. I gasped, trying to steady my breathing.
Then I stumbled outside. Linda’s neighbor, Gloria, was watering her flowers in the dark like some kind of midnight gardener.
“Marie? What’s wrong?”
“Gloria—” I wheezed. “Asthma attack… need my inhaler… at home. Can you… watch the kids?”
She squeezed my shoulder. “Go, sweetheart. I’ve got them.”
I barely made it to the car.
Just hold on. Just get home.
But when I pulled into the driveway—my blood turned to ice.
Linda’s car was parked outside.
Why?
The house was dark—except for the bedroom light.
And then—laughter.
A man’s voice. A woman’s.
Coming from the bathroom.
My legs moved like lead. Clothes littered the stairs—Jack’s shirt. Linda’s bracelet.
I shoved the door open.
There they were.
Jack lounged in the tub, bubbles covering his chest. Linda perched on the edge, twirling a wine glass with a strawberry floating in it.
They froze.
“Marie?!” Linda shrieked. “What the hell are you doing here?!”
I couldn’t breathe. *”You—you *monsters—”
Jack just smirked. “Guess I picked the wrong sister.”
I ran.
Into the bedroom—rose petals on the bed, the scent of her perfume in the air. I grabbed my inhaler, sank to the floor, and clutched my knees.
Their laughter echoed through the walls.
And in that moment—good, sweet Marie died.
Someone else woke up.
Someone with a plan.
The Revenge
I returned at sunrise. The kids were still asleep.
Little Tommy—Linda’s youngest—lay curled up, drooling on his dinosaur pillow.
People always whispered, “Funny, he doesn’t look like Linda’s ex… or even like her.”
I knew why.
I stroked his hair, then plucked a single blond strand from his brush.
“I’m sorry, baby. But this is bigger than you.”
Gloria dozed in the chair. I knelt before her.
*”Gloria… my husband… with my *sister.”
Her wrinkled hands cupped my face. “Oh, darling. You don’t deserve this.”
*”I want them to *burn.”
Her eyes gleamed. “Then make them.”
The Truth Comes Out
Two weeks later, the DNA results arrived.
70% match.
Close enough to ruin lives.
But not the whole truth.
Because I knew who Tommy’s real father was.
That night, Jack stood in the hallway with his suitcase. “I’m moving in with Linda.”
I smiled. “Good luck, honey. This isn’t over.”
The Final Blow
I showed up at their new place at sunset.
Linda answered in a silk robe, lipstick fresh. “Marie?! What the hell—”
I pushed past her. Jack emerged, beer in hand.
“We need to talk.” I dropped the DNA test on the table.
Jack read it. His face twisted. *”70%?! Linda—is Tommy *mine?!”
She laughed—sharp, panicked. “She’s lying!”
“Then who’s his father?!” Jack roared.
Linda’s mask cracked. *”Your *brother*, Jack. *Rick.* He’s been paying me for years to keep quiet.”*
Jack’s face went white. *”You slept with my *brother?!”
“And my ex. And half the men in this town.” She smirked. *”What? You thought you were *special?”
I turned to the hallway—where Cindy and Tommy stood, wide-eyed.
“Come on, kids.” I held out my hands. “Let’s get ice cream.”
Linda screamed behind me. Jack’s voice shattered.
Outside, the sun warmed my face. Two small hands slipped into mine.
“Chocolate or strawberry?”
“Both!” Tommy giggled.
I smiled.
Sweet revenge tasted even better with ice cream.