XSTORIES4U: Tales of Love, Lies, and Betrayal - Book 2

Part 16 Skydiving Surprise Reveals Shocking Secret!

When my wife announced her sudden passion for skydiving, I was puzzled but supportive, thinking it was just another phase. She was always seeking new thrills, after all. But something changed when I decided to surprise her at the drop zone one day, hoping to catch a glimpse of her fearless leap. Instead, I saw her laughing with an all-too-familiar face—her high school sweetheart, the one she'd told me all about during our honeymoon. My heart sank as they embraced in a way that felt too comfortable, too intimate. I approached, my presence unnoticed, and overheard her whisper, "It's like old times, isn't it?" Rage and betrayal crashed over me like a wave. That night, I confronted her, and she confessed that their rekindled connection started long before the skydiving lessons. Now, I'm torn between the life we've built together and the undeniable truth of her infidelity, each moment a reminder of the love I thought was ours alone. 

That night, after her confession, I left our home to clear my mind. The streets felt too narrow, the air too thick with betrayal to breathe. I wandered aimlessly, consumed by the thought of her with him, their laughter echoing in my mind. How could she? The woman I had devoted my life to, the one who promised me forever, was now nothing more than a stranger in my own home.

But as the days passed, something inside me shifted. I began to feel an odd sense of calm, a clarity I hadn't expected. I decided I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of tearing our life apart. If she wanted to play games, so could I.

I pretended to forgive her, acting as though I was willing to work through her infidelity. We went back to our normal routines—dinners, outings with friends, and even planned a trip to "rekindle" our love. I became the perfect husband once again, attentive and caring, as if her betrayal had only strengthened our bond. She seemed relieved, even grateful, as if I was the better man for looking past her mistakes.

But inside, I was plotting.

The day of our skydiving trip arrived, and everything was falling into place. I told her I wanted to make this experience special, just the two of us, away from the distractions of the world. She smiled at me, the same smile that once made me weak, but now only fueled my resolve.

At the drop zone, we geared up, and I made sure everything was in order. As we ascended in the plane, I glanced at her, pretending to be nervous. She took my hand and reassured me that everything would be fine, that this was exactly what we needed to move forward. I nodded, hiding the smirk that threatened to betray my intentions.

We jumped, the wind howling in our ears as we free-fell together, just as we had planned. I could see the exhilaration in her eyes as she soared through the sky, the rush of adrenaline masking any doubts she might have had. I waited for the right moment, watching her carefully as we neared the point where we needed to deploy our parachutes.

She reached for her cord, but nothing happened. Her body jerked, panic flashing across her face as she tugged again, harder this time, but the chute didn't deploy. I watched as fear took hold of her, a terror she had never known before, one I had orchestrated down to the smallest detail.

I pulled my own chute, hovering above her as she plummeted toward the earth. Her screams were swallowed by the wind, her arms flailing as the realization of what was happening sank in. I floated, serene, watching her descent with a cold detachment. The backup chute I had tampered with wouldn't save her either.

When I landed, I felt no remorse. Only satisfaction. She had betrayed me, shattered the trust we had built, and now she was gone, a casualty of her own recklessness. It was the perfect crime, hidden beneath the guise of a tragic accident, and no one would ever suspect a thing.

I made sure to shed a tear at her funeral, playing the role of the grieving husband to perfection. Her friends and family embraced me, telling me how strong I was, how lucky she had been to have someone like me. They pitied me, which only made the victory sweeter.

As for her high school sweetheart, he disappeared soon after her death. I never saw him again, but I liked to imagine he would live the rest of his life haunted by the memory of her, plagued by the guilt of what they had done. In the end, I won, and no one would ever know the truth.

Except me.

And I was perfectly fine with that.