Finally, his profile came up, with him smiling that same smile that had once made me fall in love. I took a deep breath as I swiped right. Fortunately, we matched right away. GAME ON!
The first step was to build a connection. I knew everything about Dexter: his favorite movie (“The Godfather”), his favorite whiskey (Glenfiddich), and even his secret love for 80s pop music. Using Leah’s profile, I mirrored his interests and crafted a persona that would be irresistible to him.
I made sure to mention my love for “The Godfather” in my bio and put up a picture of Leah holding a glass of Glenfiddich. I knew exactly how to pull him in. We started chatting, and he took the bait. Our conversations were filled with flirty banter and deep talks about life.
“Wow, you love ‘The Godfather’ too?” Dexter messaged. “It’s my all-time favorite movie.”
I replied as Leah, “Yes, it’s a masterpiece! And Glenfiddich is my go-to drink while watching it. What about you?”
“Same here,” he wrote back. “Nothing beats a good movie and a great whiskey.”
He told Leah about his dreams and fears, things he hadn’t shared with me in years. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m stuck in a rut,” he confided one evening. “I have all these plans, but I can’t seem to make them happen.”
“I’m here for you,” I typed. “You can talk to me about anything.”
Every evening, I’d sit on the couch next to him, pretending to scroll through my phone while he texted Leah. It was surreal, living under the same roof and harboring so many secrets. I’d glance at him out of the corner of my eye, watching as he smiled at his phone, completely engrossed in his messages to Leah.
After a few weeks of daily chats, I knew he was hooked. It was time for phase two: gaining his trust. I started hinting at financial troubles, weaving tales of sudden car repairs and unexpected medical bills.
Over the next few days, I continued to spin stories of desperation to Dexter through Leah’s account. He was eager to help, wanting to be her knight in shining armor. It didn’t take long for him to start transferring money to the account I had set up.
“I don’t ever want you to feel alone, Leah. You can always count on me,” he texted Leah one day while sitting right next to me. “Remember, I’m only a message away.”
This Dexter that I had come to know as Leah was someone I didn’t recognize as Phoebe. It pained me to continue the game, but I knew I had to keep going.
Each sob story I fed him made him more determined to save this imaginary woman. Living this double life was exhausting but thrilling. Every day, I played the devoted wife, making breakfast for our kids and chatting with Dexter about his day at work.
Every night, I transformed into Leah, the damsel in distress who had him wrapped around her finger. “Dex, I don’t know how to thank you enough,” I texted. “You’ve been my rock through all of this.”
“I just want to see you happy,” he responded. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I watched as he fell deeper into the trap, blinded by his infatuation and guilt. He was constantly checking his phone, eager for Leah’s messages, completely unaware of the truth that lay just beneath the surface.
The third step was all about increasing the stakes. With his trust secured, I began to ask for larger amounts, weaving elaborate stories that played on his desire to be a hero. One evening, I texted him as Leah, “Dex, I don’t know what to do. My car broke down, and the repair costs are way more than I can afford. I’m so scared I’ll lose my job if I can’t get to work.”
He replied almost instantly, “Don’t worry, Leah. I’ll take care of it. How much do you need?”
“About $1,500,” I wrote back, holding my breath.
“Consider it done,” he replied, and minutes later, the money was in my account.
Each transaction brought me closer to my goal. I asked for help with rent and then “emergency” medical procedures for a sick family member. Dexter was more than willing to help, convinced he was the hero Leah needed. What he didn’t realize was that he was funding my escape.
While he was distracted by his affair, I meticulously planned my departure. I found a new place to live, made arrangements for the kids, and discreetly packed our essentials.
Every day, I gathered a little more evidence of his infidelity and financial transactions, making sure I had enough to protect myself if he tried to contest anything later. I took screenshots of our chats, saved copies of bank statements, and even recorded a few of our conversations where he talked about his “true feelings” for Leah.
“Leah, I feel like I can be honest with you,” he wrote one evening. “I’ve never felt this way before. You understand me in a way no one else does.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” I replied, heart pounding. “I care about you a lot, Dex.”
“I care about you too,” he responded. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we could be together for real. I know it sounds crazy, but I think I might be falling for you.”
Reading his confession, I felt a mix of anger and satisfaction. I saved the conversation, knowing it would be crucial later. He had no idea that his heartfelt messages were sealing his fate.
The final step was to reveal my plan. I knew the perfect way to do it. I sent him a final message from the fake account, arranging a meet-up at a fancy restaurant.
“Dex, I feel like we’ve known each other forever. I think it’s time we finally meet in person. How about dinner at The Grand at 8 p.m. this Friday?”
He replied within seconds, “I’ve been waiting for this moment, Leah. I’ll be there.”
On the day of the meeting, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves. This was it.
I dressed in my best outfit, a simple yet elegant black dress that Dexter always said was his favorite. I wanted to look my best when I confronted him. I arrived at The Grand a bit early and took a seat at a quiet corner table where I could see the entrance clearly.
I ordered a glass of wine and sat there, watching the clock tick closer to 8 p.m. Finally, Dexter walked in, looking around eagerly. He was wearing the suit I had bought him for our anniversary a few years ago. He looked nervous but excited, completely unaware of what was about to happen.
As he scanned the room, I stood up and walked over to him. “Dexter,” I said, my voice steady.
He turned, his eyes widening in shock. “Phoebe? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I replied, holding up a folder. “But I think you know.”
He looked at the folder, confusion and panic mixing on his face. “What’s that?”
“Let’s sit down,” I suggested, guiding him to the table I had been sitting at. He followed, still looking dazed.
Once we were seated, I placed the folder in front of him. “Open it,” I said.
With shaking hands, he opened the folder and began to go through the contents. Inside were screenshots of our conversations, evidence of his infidelity, and a detailed list of all the money he had sent to Leah’s account—my account. His face turned pale as he realized he had been played.
“I knew all along,” I said calmly, watching him. “This was my way of getting back at you and securing my freedom. The money you sent to your ‘lover’ will help me and the kids start a new life away from you.”
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and anger. “Phoebe, I can explain—”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I cut him off. “You betrayed me, Dexter. You made vows to me, and you broke them. Now, you’re going to face the consequences.”
He opened his mouth to argue but closed it again, realizing the evidence was undeniable. There was nothing he could say to make it better or take back what he had done.
I stood up, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “I’m leaving, Dexter. Don’t try to find us, and don’t think you can contest anything. I have all the evidence I need to make sure you don’t.”
He sat there, stunned, as I walked out of the restaurant. I felt a strange sense of satisfaction and freedom as I left him behind. That evening, I moved into our new home, taking the kids with me. The money I had accumulated ensured we were comfortable and had a fresh start.
The new place was cozy, nothing extravagant but perfect for us. The kids were a bit confused at first, but I explained it was a new adventure. They were excited about their new rooms, and I felt a sense of relief knowing we were safe and away from Dexter’s deceit.
Over the next few days, I settled into our new life. I enrolled the kids in a new school and started looking for a job. With the money Dexter had unwittingly provided, we were stable for the time being. I even found myself smiling more, feeling lighter than I had in years.
One evening, as I was tucking the kids into bed, my daughter looked up at me and said, “Mom, are we going to be okay?”
I smiled and kissed her forehead. “Yes, sweetheart. We’re going to be just fine.”
As I sat in the living room later, sipping a cup of tea, I reflected on everything that had happened. Revenge is best served cold, and Dexter learned that the hard way. He thought he was cheating, but he was just falling into my trap. Now, I am free, financially secure, and ready to move forward without him.
Neighbor Mocks Poor Woman for Filthy Look of Her House, Apologizes after She Sets Foot Inside — Story of the Day
Sarah received several complaints about the condition of her house from one of her neighbors, Mrs. Cardigan. The older woman also yelled at her when she couldn’t fix it promptly. But instead of being mad, Sarah invited her and two other neighbors into her home, which surprisingly changed everything.
Mrs. Teller,
I can’t believe I have to complain about this situation. You have to fix your yard immediately. Your house needs painting. It’s a disaster! It makes our neighborhood look awful, and all our houses are losing value since you’re right around the corner. Please do it promptly!
Sincerely,
Mrs. Cardigan.
Sarah sighed after reading another of Mrs. Cardigan’s messages. The older woman left notes stuck to her front door for the past two weeks, but there was nothing Sarah could do for now. She sighed and crumpled the letter in her hands, taking it inside and throwing it too forcefully into her garbage can.
Sarah didn’t have time to think about her nosey neighbor and her complaints. | Source: Pexels
“This awful, nosy woman doesn’t understand anything,” she told herself and started putting away the few groceries she had just bought and continued her busy day. All she needed to do now was ignore the situation and hope they would just shut up about it.
She closed the door and peeked at them through her curtains. All three of them had stopped a few yards away and were discussing something intensely.
However, Sarah should’ve expected what happened the next day.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! RING! RING! RING!
Sarah frowned as she raised her head from changing her one-year-old son’s diaper. Someone was at the door, knocking with pounding fists and ringing the bell insistently, which might wake her tired husband, Andrew, who just had a long night shift at the factory and needed his sleep. Her older children were in school, but her baby required peace. If this wasn’t an emergency, whoever was outside didn’t have to be demanding her attention like that.
Her frown stayed in place as she opened the door and saw three of her neighbors. She wasn’t surprised. It was only a matter of time before they would get tired of her ignoring the complaints about her yard. One of them was Mrs. Cardigan. There was also Mr. Sanders and Mrs. Levy. They all lived in a small town in Washington, and Sarah met them at some point but briefly. “Hello… what’s going on?” she asked, confused at their angry faces.
Mrs. Cardigan and two other neighbors came to complain about her yard in person. | Source: Pexels
“Mrs. Teller, I’ve sent many notes, and they’ve all gone unnoticed, apparently,” Mrs. Cardigan began. Her hands were raised, and her body moved with her attitude, which had a mocking tone that Sarah didn’t enjoy. “You seem to think having a yard in this condition is perfectly normal, not to mention the exterior, which is completely falling apart. We’re about to establish a homeowner’s association, and this just won’t do! You’ll actually get fined for this. Is that what you want?”
The other neighbors behind her nodded their heads, added a few complaints of their own, and even laughed at some point. Mrs. Cardigan had the worst cackle of them all. Sarah knew it looked terrible, but fixing her garden was not on her list of priorities.
She wanted to respond to all the vitriol the older woman gave her. How dare these people come to her house and mock and threaten her? They had no idea what was going on with her life. Also, if she didn’t join the HOA, they wouldn’t be able to give her any fines. She wanted to return their statements and even mock them too. But that wasn’t her personality. Sarah was better than that.
“Mrs. Cardigan, Mrs. Levy, and Mr. Sanders, would you please come in?” Sarah offered, gesturing with her hand so they could enter the house. The three neighbors were obviously shocked at her words. They expected a fight, but she wouldn’t stoop down to their level. “We can talk more about this issue inside while having some tea.”
They were shocked when Sarah invited them inside and offered them tea. | Source: Pexels
She ushered them into her house and told them to sit in her living room while she brought out her last remaining tea bags and gathered all her courage to face them with the truth. She took a deep breath, smiled, and returned to the living room.
“Here, you go,” she said in the politest voice she could muster.
Mrs. Cardigan took her cup of tea with apparent reluctance, wondering why Sarah was being nice to them. “So, are you going to do something about this?” she asked.
Finally, Sarah sat down. “Mrs. Cardigan, I’ve read all your memos. But the truth is that gardening is not a priority for my family right now. Our toddler is very sick. Do you hear the rumbling of a machine from a distance?” she asked, pointing towards the hallway.
The neighbors nodded, although they hadn’t noticed until Sarah pointed that out. “It’s not that noisy, but you can hear it. That’s my baby’s breathing machine. He’s sick with a respiratory disease that could pose a danger to his life. And my husband lost his big job after the company went bankrupt. The only thing he’s been able to find in this recession is a night shift at a can factory. It’s grueling, so he’s sleeping right now. See, the door to my bedroom is closed,” she continued, pointing towards another door in the hallway.
She explained why gardening her yard was not on her list of priorities. | Source: Pexels
Mrs. Cardigan wanted to speak up. “Well, that’s –”
But Sarah didn’t let her continue, although her voice was still serene and kind. “And I have two other kids who should be home from school at any moment now. I simply have no time or frankly any money to fix my yard. Everything goes towards food, keeping this roof, and medical bills. Can you understand my situation now?”
The three neighbors looked solemn now that she had finished explaining her situation.
Finally, Mrs. Levy said something. “We didn’t know. We are so sorry, Mrs. Teller. We hope that your baby gets better quickly,” she spoke sincerely.
“Thank you,” Sarah replied, nodding her head at her. The others echoed the sentiment, and Mrs. Cardigan looked like she had been scolded like never before.
They excused themselves quickly, thanking her for the tea and adding more apologies. And Sarah maintained her kind façade through the entire exchange, hoping they would stop with the complaints and the mocking of her yard.
She peeked at them briefly through the curtains but shrugged, hoping they wouldn’t come back. | Source: Pexels
But she closed the door and peeked at them through her curtains. All three of them had stopped a few yards away and were discussing something intensely. She shrugged and went to check on her son.
A few hours later, she heard a telltale sound of a lawnmower and saw Mr. Sanders trimming her lawn using it. She was about to tell him it was unnecessary, but Mrs. Cardigan and Mrs. Levy joined him with gardening tools.
To her shock, others neighbors showed up, bringing flowers, more tools, and everything to help fix the exterior of the house. Sarah went outside to thank them and offered to pitch in, but they wanted to do it themselves.
“Honey, I was awful to you about my complaints. I’m so sorry. Let us do this for you, to make it up to you,” Mrs. Cardigan insisted as she pushed Sarah back into her house.
Sarah’s eyes watered as she peeked at her neighbors through the window, and Andrew finally woke up to see this new development. She explained everything, and he told her something she would never forget.
The neighbors fixed her garden, and Sarah’s husband said something insightful. | Source: Pexels
“People are intrinsically good and they want to do good. We just have to remind them sometimes,” he said and went to prepare something to eat. Sarah nodded, wiping her tears away.
But their neighbors didn’t focus on just gardening. Soon, Mr. Sanders made some calls and got an interview for Andrew, another big corporation. The job offer consisted of regular hours and a salary similar to what he used to have before he was laid off. Luckily, he got the gig, and everything changed for the family.
What can we learn from this story?
- People are good at heart, but they sometimes have to be reminded of it. As soon as Sarah’s neighbors discovered her situation, they decided to take action and help them.
- Respect your neighbors no matter what. Sarah’s neighbors mocked and complained until they realized how hard Sarah’s family’s life was. But they soon atoned for their actions.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a rich woman who mocked a poor neighbor for being a builder until her house was destroyed.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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