When Jessica left town for a work trip, she asked me to watch her house. I agreed, not knowing I’d uncover her husband Mark’s betrayal—and his plan to steal everything from her.

Jessica and I had been best friends since college. I’d never liked Mark. He always felt fake—charming on the surface, but cold underneath.

While staying at her place, I heard laughter upstairs. Curious, I crept up. Through the cracked bedroom door, I saw Mark with another woman—in Jessica’s robe, sipping from her glass.

“I told you it’d work,” he said. “She signed the papers without reading. Thinks it’s refinancing. By the time she’s back, the house is mine.”

I called Jessica. Told her everything. But she didn’t believe me. Said I was jealous.

Later, Mark showed up at my door. Smiling. Threatening. That’s when I knew I had to make her see the truth.

So I lied. I used a fake hospital call to get her home. When she arrived panicked, I confessed. She was furious—until I said, “Come see for yourself.”

We snuck to the window. Inside, Mark and his mistress kissed on the couch.

Jessica was silent, then took photos and marched in. What followed was fury—hers, not mine. She confronted him. He didn’t deny it.

“You tricked me,” she said. “But it’s over.”

Mark tried to blame me.

“No,” she said. “Lee told the truth. You’re done.”

After he left, she whispered, “I already knew. I just needed proof.”

“I trusted you all along,” she said.

I smiled. “Always will.”