But I didn’t confront them. I took a photo for proof and returned to the lobby, where a kind receptionist helped me plan the perfect surprise.
Thirty minutes later, I knocked on their door with his laptop in hand—and a knowing smile. He was stunned. She froze.
Then came the “delivery”: champagne, roses, and a sarcastic letter I read aloud:
“To the couple of the year… may your love last as long as your lies.”
I toasted to their betrayal, handed them the letter, and walked out—dignity intact.
That night, I stayed in a suite on the top floor, gifted by the receptionist. I cried, but also planned. I filed for divorce, rediscovered myself, and rebuilt my life—stronger and freer
