I swapped my cheating husband’s lube for glue… and the firefighters had to pull them apart

When I was sure Julian was asleep, my phone vibrated. It was a call from the detective, Mr. Thomas. His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if he feared someone would overhear him.

— Mrs. Roberts, I recorded their conversation in the hotel parking lot. I used special equipment. They didn’t even notice. I’m sending it to you now.

My heart pounded hard, but I simply replied:

— Thank you, Thomas. Send me the file.

Minutes later, an audio file appeared in my messages. I put on my headphones, sat at the table, and pressed play.

The first thing I heard was Allison’s voice, cold and ambitious, a stranger’s voice.

— Dad, hurry up with that fake contract. I want to have that whole chain of stores already. I want that old hag out of the house.

I felt a blow to my chest and gripped the phone tightly. Then came Julian’s voice, deep and confident.

— Don’t worry about those papers. Juliet doesn’t know anything. Leave it in my hands. She trusts me too much.

It felt like a knife twisting in my heart. They weren’t just cheating on me. They were planning to take everything I had built. The bakery chain, all the sweat, tears, and sleepless nights. Baking every batch, running all over town to make deliveries to keep my reputation—it was all mine. Julian never once got his hands dirty in the kitchen.

He never worked the counter or signed contracts with hotels. And now he and Allison wanted to take it all away. To kick me out of the house I had made a home.

I almost broke down, but I still had the composure to copy the audio to the flash drive where I kept the other evidence. I carefully wrote down the time and place as if trying to keep myself steady in the middle of the storm.

The next morning, as I made coffee in the bakery, my phone vibrated again. Thomas sent another batch of new photos taken with a telephoto lens. In them, Julian and Allison were inside his car with a thick pile of papers in front of them. Allison had a red pen and was marking the document intently.

Julian, next to her, nodded and smiled as if he were in full agreement. Thomas wrote: «I overheard something. It seems they want to use a contact at the notary’s office to make the transfer. I’ll investigate further.»

I zoomed in on the photo. I could see the letters on the paper, though I couldn’t read them. But I knew these weren’t normal work papers. They were planning to steal everything I had worked for, step by step. I sat there among the trays of sweet pastries that smelled so delicious, but I felt as if my whole world was collapsing.

I reopened the audio file, put on my headphones, and listened to every phrase, every word they said.

«That wretched old woman.» That’s what Allison called me.

I remembered the days when she had just joined the family, when I taught her how to make rice, when I hugged her like a daughter. I thought she was part of the family, that she would be the woman who, along with Daniel, would build a future. And Julian, the man I had loved since I was a girl in San Diego, who swore he would be with me until the end.

They had made a joke of me, a fool who still believed in love and family. A regular customer came in, Mrs. Peterson, who always bought pastries for her grandchildren.

— Juliet, your bakery has been packed lately. Your chain of stores is expanding. I’m so proud of you, — she said, her voice warm.

I forced a smile and replied:

— Thank you. I’m doing my best.

But inside, I was a wreck. I wondered what she would think if she knew the truth. Would she see me as a strong woman, or just a fool betrayed by her husband and daughter-in-law? I wrapped Mrs. Peterson’s pastries, said goodbye at the door, and sank into my chair, my hands on my head. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. Instead, a silent rage burned inside me, like the fire in an oven, ready to ignite at any moment.

That night, at dinner, I sat across from Julian in the small kitchen under the yellow light that gave his face a strange, distorted glow. He ate and spoke in a monotone voice, as if nothing were wrong, as if the world wasn’t about to end for him.

— Juliet, I have to sign some important business papers this week. Maybe you should look them over. They’re complicated.

I picked up a piece of bread and pretended to take a bite. But in my head, I could only hear Allison’s voice from the recording: «Dad, hurry up and sign the fake contracts.»

I knew he was testing the waters. He wanted to drag me into his dirty plan. I gave him a dry smile, a facade of a wife who was too tired to argue, and replied:

— Yes, I’ll look at them later. I’m tired now.

He nodded, took a sip of wine, looking at me as if nothing were wrong. But I knew that behind that smile was a man ready to take everything I had built, a predator waiting for the right moment to strike. Julian had a few more glasses of wine.

His face turned red, and he started slurring his words about a difficult client he’d seen that day. I nodded as if I were listening, but inside, I wanted to scream: «Do you think I’m that stupid?»

When he got up, staggering, and went to the bedroom, I cleared the table, my every move slow, containing the anger that was boiling inside me. He threw himself on the bed, snoring loudly, and left his car keys on the nightstand, gleaming under the dim light, a siren’s call to my revenge.

I stared at them, my heart pounding in my chest. This was my chance, my moment.

I entered the bedroom slowly, careful not to make a sound. Every step felt like walking between pain and resolve, between the past and a new, unknown future. I grabbed the keys, squeezed them tight, and went straight to the garage.

The night was quiet, hushed, as if the world was holding its breath. All I could hear were crickets outside, their chirping a soundtrack to my silent fury. I turned on my phone’s flashlight. The weak light illuminated Julian’s old SUV, a silent accomplice in his betrayal.

I opened the door. The smell of gasoline was still there, mixed with a strange, sweet perfume. I opened the glove compartment between the seats, and there it was, the tube of lubricant with a loose cap and dried residue on the edge, a monument to their infidelity.

I held it in my hand, feeling like I was holding a dirty secret. It was clear they had used it again, as if it were confirmation that Julian and Allison were still playing their secret game, their twisted little dance. I took the tube of lubricant to the kitchen, placed it on the counter, and washed my hands with lemon soap.

I scrubbed them thoroughly, as if to erase every trace of the betrayal I had just touched. The fresh scent didn’t calm my anger, but it helped me stay focused. I opened the tool drawer and took out a tube of clear industrial super glue, the same kind I once used to fix a chair at the bakery.

It was a tool of my trade, now a weapon of my revenge. I carefully unscrewed the cap of the lubricant and filled the tube with the glue, drop by drop, until it was completely full. I wiped the nozzle, shook it gently to mix it, and tested a little.

It came out smoothly, just like the original lubricant. At a glance, no one would notice the difference. I smiled faintly, though a hurricane was raging inside me.

This wasn’t a game. It was the first step to getting justice. I put the tube back in the glove compartment, adjusted the floor mat and the seat just as they were, as if no one had touched anything before closing the car.

I opened the trunk to check. There were only crumpled bags, an empty water bottle, and an unused condom lying in a corner. My heart skipped a beat, but I wasn’t surprised anymore. I took pictures with my phone, adding them to the growing collection of evidence. Each image was another piece, a reminder that I couldn’t let Julian and Allison get away with their lies.

Back in the house, I put the keys back in their place, next to Julian’s alarm clock. I grabbed an old book and sat on the living room sofa, pretending to read. The dim light fell on the pages, but I couldn’t read a word. My head was spinning.

I thought of Daniel, my son, who believed he was living happily with Allison, without knowing the truth. How could I tell him that his wife and his own father were betraying us? I thought of the bakery chain, of the forty years of work and sleepless nights, of all the fights with Julian to defend my dream. He never really understood it, but I trusted that he supported me.

Now I knew he was just waiting for the right moment to take everything. An hour later, Julian woke up and stumbled into the kitchen for water. He saw the keys on the counter and didn’t suspect a thing.

— Still not sleeping, Juliet? — He asked groggily.

I smiled and replied:

— No, I’m just reading a bit. Finish your water and go back to bed.

He nodded, drank, and returned to the bedroom, snoring immediately. I looked at him as if he were a stranger. This man who once promised to be with me until the end was now planning to destroy what I loved most.

But he didn’t know that I had already started my counterattack.

At dawn, I got up. The sunlight was timidly entering through the bakery window. I was in my usual kitchen, kneading dough, preparing flans and sweet pastries for a large hotel order. I pressed the dough with all my might, channeling my rage into every movement.

When I returned home for breakfast, I made an effort to keep a calm face. Julian was already up, with a cup of black coffee in his hand. I served him eggs and toast.

— Julian, — I said calmly, — I have to travel to Nashville tomorrow to sign a contract with a new partner. I’m sure I’ll be home late. Can you take care of dinner?

I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He looked up, surprised. But in his eyes, something was shining that wasn’t concern. It was relief.

— A big contract? — He asked, taking my hand with a feigned tenderness. — Don’t worry. Go ahead. I’ll handle it.

But that spark in his eyes, that slight curve of his lips, as if a weight had been lifted, pierced my chest. He wanted me to leave? And I knew exactly why. I smiled and nodded.

— Thanks. I’ll call you if I get back late.

He took another sip of coffee. Then he got up, saying he had to get to the office early. As he left, I saw he had left his phone on the table, and the screen lit up with a missed call. The name that appeared was A.T.

I frowned. My heart pounded. Allison Thomas. I was sure it was her.

Before I could touch the phone, Julian came back, grabbed it in a hurry, and turned off the screen in front of me.

— I forgot it, — he mumbled with a forced smile. And he was gone.

I stood there, watching the door close, feeling as if I had been slapped. He wasn’t even bothering to hide it anymore.

That day, I worked like a machine, delivering bread, signing invoices, and smiling at customers. But my mind was only focused on Julian and Allison. I couldn’t let them continue their farce behind my back and Daniel’s. I needed more evidence, to hear from their own mouths what they said when they thought no one was listening.

That night, I pretended to be tired. I went to bed early and told Julian:

— I have to wake up early tomorrow to catch the bus, so I’m going to sleep.

He nodded, gave me a pat on the shoulder.

— Rest, Juliet. Be careful on your trip tomorrow.

I lay down and closed my eyes, but I sharpened my hearing, attentive to every sound in the house. Close to midnight, when Julian’s snoring stopped, I heard him get out of bed quietly. The faint light from his phone shone in the darkness. He left the room with his phone, thinking I was asleep.

I stayed still, my heart pounding. Then I slowly got up and followed him on tiptoe. I hid behind the thick living room curtain and saw him standing in a dark corner near the window.

He put the phone to his ear and spoke softly.

— Yes, of course. Come over to the house tomorrow. We won’t have to go to a hotel anymore. Juliet has to leave town to sign a contract and she’ll be back late.

I heard a soft giggle from the other side, Allison’s sweet voice.

— That’s great, Dad. Finally, we can relax.

Julian laughed, replying:

— Yeah, come early. I’ll be waiting.

I stood there behind the curtain, feeling my blood boil. They weren’t just cheating on me. They were planning to turn my house, my son’s home and mine, into their meeting place.

I returned to the bedroom in silence, opened a drawer, and took out Daniel’s old recorder, the one I bought him for college to record his classes. I checked the battery, put in a new one, and turned on continuous recording. I hid it behind the bookshelf in the bedroom, next to the headboard, certain it would capture everything. I carefully adjusted the cable and covered it with a family photo frame. The photo of the four of us at Daniel and Allison’s wedding.

Looking at it, I felt a bitter taste. Allison’s smile, Julian’s hug. Now, they were all lies.

Before going back to bed, I checked again that the recorder was working. I placed the photo frame just right to hide the cable. Then I lay down, pretending to be asleep.

Julian came back to the bedroom, threw himself on the bed and snored as if nothing were wrong. But my eyes were wide open in the darkness, more awake than ever. I reached for the clock and set the alarm for earlier than usual.

I closed my eyes, but not to sleep. I was ready for the next step of my plan.

I woke up at five o’clock in the morning when it was still dark. Only the faint light from the streetlights was coming through the window. The house was silent. All I could hear was Julian’s steady snoring from the bedroom.