I Discovered My Husband on Tinder and Decided to Catfish Him with a Fake Profile — He Believes He’s Being Unfaithful, but It’s All Part of My Scheme for Payback

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.

Maid’s Unexpected Find in Boss’s Bedroom Raises Eyebrows – Is This More Than a Coincidence

Caroline got a job as a cleaning lady in New York and went to her first assignment. It was a beautiful house in Manhattan, but she was shocked to find a picture of her mother in the office. Then, a man walked in.

Caroline had recently moved to New York with her friend, Melissa, to chase their Broadway dreams. Before they could find an apartment, they needed jobs. Melissa got a position at a clothing store, and Caroline was hired by a domestic cleaning agency.

The job was perfect for her. It wasn’t too demanding, and she enjoyed cleaning because it helped her relax. Plus, if no one was home, she could practice her singing.

Caroline couldn’t stop thinking about her mother before starting her first job. Her mother, Helen, had never wanted Caroline to follow her dreams or live in New York.

Caroline grew up in Philadelphia and didn’t have a father, as Helen never talked about him. Helen also had a strong dislike for New York and had always been overprotective of Caroline, which made her feel trapped.

When Caroline and Melissa planned their move, Caroline knew her mother would not approve. She worried Helen might even fake being sick to make her stay. But Caroline was determined to pursue her dreams, so she left a short note on her mother’s dresser while Helen was asleep and left.

It had been a few days, and Helen hadn’t called, which felt strange, but Caroline thought her mother was probably just angry. She hoped Helen would come around once she made it on Broadway. For now, Caroline focused on her cleaning job.

The agency director had told her that an older man lived in the house alone, so it wasn’t very messy. Following the instructions, Caroline used the key under the mat to enter the house and started cleaning right away, beginning with the kitchen, then the living room, and finally moving to the bedroom.

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Caroline was nearly finished with her cleaning when she noticed a photo of her mother on the office mantelpiece. She hesitated before asking, “I’m almost done, sir. But may I ask a question? Who is this woman?”

She was standing at the entrance of the serious-looking office. There were no instructions against entering, so she carefully continued her work, avoiding the desk area.

The office was impressive, with a beautiful fireplace, a mantelpiece, and large bookshelves lining one wall. It looked like something from a movie.

Caroline quickly and thoroughly cleaned the office but stopped when she saw the photo on the mantelpiece. The woman in the picture looked like her mother, but much younger. She wondered aloud, “Why is my mother in this man’s pictures?”

Just then, she heard footsteps, and an older man entered the room. “Oh, hello there! You must be the new cleaning lady. I’m Richard Smith. I own this house,” he said with a friendly smile. “Are you finished in here?”

Caroline replied, “I’m almost done, sir. But may I ask a question?” She hesitated, hoping he wouldn’t mind her asking about the photo. “Who is this woman?”

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Richard put on his glasses and looked at the photo. “Ah yes. That’s Helen. She was the love of my life,” he said.

Caroline’s curiosity was piqued. “What happened to her?” she asked.

Richard sighed, “She died in a bus crash. She was pregnant at the time. I couldn’t even go to her funeral because her mother hated me. It was a tough time. I tried to move on, but I never really did. I still love and miss her.”

Caroline felt a chill. “Sir, I’m sorry to intrude, and thank you for sharing that. But this woman… she looks so much like my mother. It’s incredible.”

Richard looked confused. “What do you mean?”

Caroline explained, “Well, my mother, also named Helen, looks just like this woman. Of course, she’s older now, but the resemblance is striking. I’m almost sure this is her,” she said, pointing to the photograph.

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Richard asked Caroline, “Helen? Your mother’s name is Helen? Where did you grow up?”

“Philadelphia,” Caroline replied, shrugging. She suddenly realized that if the woman in the photo was her mother, this man might be her father.

Richard put his hands over his mouth in shock. “This can’t be possible…” he whispered. “Can I have your mother’s phone number?”

“Sure,” Caroline said and gave it to him.

“Can you stay here while I call her?” Richard asked. Caroline agreed.

Richard made the call from his office phone. After a few rings, her mother’s voice came on the line. “Hello? Is it you, Caroline?”

Richard glanced at Caroline but spoke first. “Is this Helen Geller?”

“Yes. Who am I speaking to?” Helen responded from the other end.

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Richard’s voice wavered with emotion as he said, “Helen, it’s Richard.”

“Helen, who? Wait a minute. Richard Morris? What do you want after all these years?” Helen’s voice became cold.

Caroline and Richard looked at each other, puzzled. Richard pressed on, “What do you mean after all these years? I thought you were dead!”

“What?” Helen replied, confused.

Richard explained that he had lost Helen and their unborn baby in an accident. He told her how her mother had kept him away from the funeral and didn’t tell him anything afterward. But Helen was baffled and told him her side of the story.

“My mother said you called and decided you wanted nothing to do with me. So I raised my daughter on my own,” Helen explained. Caroline was stunned by this unexpected twist.

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Richard continued, “Helen, I would never have left you. I never moved on. I’ve thought about you and our baby every day. I’ve been in pain for almost twenty years.”

Helen was silent. Then she said, “I can’t believe Mom would do this. But that was her way. I don’t know what to do now. Wait. How did you find out I’m still alive?”

Caroline spoke up, “Mom, I’m here.” She quickly explained what had happened and assured her mother that she was okay in New York.

Helen was in disbelief. “I can’t even ask my mother why she did something so cruel. She passed away years ago. But anyway, when are you coming back home, Caroline?”

Caroline replied, “I’m not coming back until I make it on Broadway. And now, I have another reason to stay here.” She glanced at Richard with a small smile.

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Helen said, “Fine, but I’m coming to New York soon,” and then hung up. Richard and Caroline stared at each other in silence for a moment before speaking.

“So, I guess you’re my dad,” Caroline said with a smile. Richard laughed, and that helped them start to connect.

What can we learn from this story?

1. Let your children follow their dreams. Caroline left because her mother was too protective. It’s important to guide your children but let them make their own choices.
2. Sometimes, parents don’t always have your best interests at heart. Helen’s mother did something awful to both Helen and Richard, and they might never know why.
3. Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

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