The Runaway Wife, Let Him Rot

The last time this happened, my husband dragged his pregnant mistress out to the middle of nowhere for what he called a "work trip." Then they got snatched.

The ransom was outrageous. I scraped together every penny I had and still only had enough to get one of them back.

There was my dirtbag husband, on his knees in that ransom video, begging me to save his sorry ass—not even a thought for the woman carrying his child.

Turns out, the whole thing was a setup.

The mistress orchestrated it all to see if he really loved her.

He failed. Hard. She couldn't live with the truth and ended her life.

After that, my husband's reputation tanked. He was drowning in guilt and regret—and he blamed me for all of it.

"If you'd just had the money, none of this would've happened!"

To get back at me, he strapped me into his car and drove us both straight into the ocean.

But then I woke up.

We were both back. Reborn.

And this time, my husband's acting all high and mighty, demanding I save the mistress first.

What he doesn't know is—this time, the kidnapping is for real.

My phone wouldn't stop blinking. On. Off. On. Off. Finally, on the fifth round, I picked up.

"Mom—"

Before I could say another word, my mother-in-law Carol was screaming through the receiver like she was trying to blow out my eardrums. "Are you dead in a ditch somewhere? Kevin's been kidnapped! The kidnappers couldn't get ahold of you, so they called me! Get your butt over here—now!"

She hung up before I could even respond.

I caught my reflection in the mirror and smiled.

Showtime.

Last time, I woke up to a ransom video—my husband Kevin and some bimbo named Tiffany, tied up and held hostage in the middle of nowhere. Apparently they'd been snatched during one of Kevin's "business trips."

He was freaking out, begging me through tears to save them both.

I didn't even have time to process his betrayal. I just did what I had to—followed the kidnappers' instructions, didn't call the cops, scraped together the ransom.

But after I wired the money, the kidnappers pulled a fast one. Said it was only enough for one person. Kevin had to choose.

He didn't even hesitate. He chose himself.

That's when we found out the whole thing was Tiffany's idea—a test to see if Kevin really loved her.

He failed. Miserably. Heartbroken, she killed herself.

After Tiffany's death, the video of Kevin's cowardice went viral. He became a pariah. People literally spat on him in the street.

He'd already lost Tiffany. Now he'd lost his reputation, too. He snapped. Blamed me for everything.

So he decided to take us both out.

I took a deep breath.

Not this time. This time, Kevin was going to pay.

I put on my best performance—flustered, panicked, out of breath. I showed up at Carol's place looking like a mess. Kevin's three sisters were already there, stone-faced and tense.

Carol looked like she was about to explode.

I steadied myself. "Mom, you said Kevin's in trouble? What happened?"

Big mistake.

She stormed over and slapped me hard across the face. "You witch! How dare you act clueless?!"

I stumbled back, genuinely stunned. I knew the whole story behind Kevin's kidnapping, so why was this my fault?

But I couldn't argue. Not yet. I dropped to my knees, playing the part. "Mom, how is Kevin's kidnapping my fault? He told me he was going out of state for work! If anything, it's the company's fault!"

Carol's expression flickered, but she quickly returned to full rage mode. She scoffed. "Kevin wasn't on a business trip. He was out screwing around with that tramp Tiffany!"