Two days before Christmas, I found a hidden gift box in my husband’s closet, intended for his mistress. The note on it read, “LOVE YOU, JULIE!” My heart sank, but I stayed calm. Instead of confronting him, I planned the perfect revenge.
A month before Christmas, I’d noticed Jimmy’s late nights, followed by strange behavior. I’d grown suspicious, and my worst fears were confirmed with that red gift box. It contained a diamond necklace — the same one I’d shown him months ago, only he’d bought it for Julie.
I reached out to a friend, Mark, who modified the gift box with a paint-triggering mechanism. On Christmas morning, I watched as Jimmy gave the box to Julie at a restaurant. As she opened it, the paint exploded, covering both of them in green goo. The scene was chaos, with Julie shrieking and the restaurant patrons laughing. Jimmy, covered in paint, scrambled for an explanation.
I was already home when he returned, a green mess. “Some kids with paint balloons,” he said, but I wasn’t fooled. I handed him the divorce papers, and with a smirk, I pulled out the necklace. “Merry Christmas,” I said, “your taste in jewelry has improved.”
In the end, Julie dumped him, and he became infamous for being the “green Christmas cheater.” As for me, I moved on. The necklace looked perfect, a reminder of my unforgettable Christmas payback.
