My Colleague Sent Me a Photo of My Fiancé Chilling with His Ex in a Spa Resort — My Revenge Was Harsh…

Planning my wedding was supposed to be magical. I had the dress, the venue, and the DJ playlist all set. But that fantasy crashed when a colleague sent me a photo that stopped me in my tracks: my fiancé, cozying up with his ex at a spa. My revenge? Just as ruthless as his betrayal. And trust me, I walked away with the last laugh.

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and I was on my couch, half-watching reality TV while scrolling through Instagram. The show in the background? Some couple arguing about wedding plans. Oh, the irony.

“I can’t believe you want a chocolate fountain at our wedding!” screamed the bride on TV.

I laughed to myself, thinking, “Well, at least Mark and I don’t argue over ridiculous stuff like that.”

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Claire, a quiet colleague from work. We weren’t particularly close, but she was always polite and sweet. Her message read:

“Hey Cathy, I hope I’m not overstepping, but isn’t this your fiancé? I remember him from the Christmas party.”

Curious, I opened the attached photo. And there he was, my “loving” fiancé, Mark, lounging by a pool at some fancy resort. But that wasn’t the worst part.

Next to him, sipping a cocktail in her bikini, was his ex, Amanda. The same Amanda I thought was long gone. The same Amanda he swore he hadn’t seen in ages.

I thought he was out of town visiting his mom. Apparently, “visiting his mom” involved hanging out poolside with his ex.

But instead of bursting into tears or throwing my phone across the room, I felt something else: pure, seething rage. But the thing about me? I don’t explode. I plan. I get smart.

I didn’t confront him right away. No, I waited. I knew he’d be back home on Monday. And when he walked through the door, looking all innocent, I was ready.

He set his bag down, gave me a big smile, and said, “Hey babe! Missed you. How was your weekend?”

I played it cool. “Oh, mine was fine. How was your weekend?”

He froze for a moment but quickly recovered. “It was good, you know, just spent time with Mom.”

“Interesting,” I said, pulling out my phone. “Claire sent me a photo. Wanna see?”

I showed him the photo of him and Amanda. His face drained of all color, and he stumbled for words.

“Cathy… I can explain. It’s not what it looks like—Amanda, she just showed up, it wasn’t planned! I swear!”

“Oh really?” I raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re telling me you accidentally ended up at a spa with your ex? While I thought you were visiting your mom?”

He stuttered, tripping over excuses. “It was a mistake, I swear! I’ll do anything to fix this.”

And that’s when I knew I had him. “Anything?” I asked, tilting my head sweetly.

His face lit up. “Yes, anything! Just give me a chance to prove it.”

“Alright,” I said, smiling. “You can prove it by coming on a hike with me tomorrow. You know how much I love hiking.”

Now, for context: Mark hated hiking. He was more of a couch potato than an outdoor enthusiast, but he was desperate. “Of course! I’d love to go hiking.”

“Great,” I replied. “Be ready by 5 a.m.”

His smile faltered. “Uh, yeah, okay. 5 a.m. it is.”

The next morning, I took him on the steepest, most grueling trail I could find. From the moment we started, it was clear he was struggling. He was panting, drenched in sweat, and after just 10 minutes, he was begging for a break.

“How much longer?” he gasped.

“Oh, just a bit further,” I said, smiling sweetly. But we were far from done.

After two hours of brutal uphill trekking, Mark was practically crawling. “Cathy, I think I’m dying,” he groaned.

I patted him on the back. “Oh, come on. Didn’t you say you love hiking?”

He gave me a confused look. “What? I never said that.”

“Must have been someone else,” I replied, smirking.

By the time we finally reached the summit, Mark collapsed onto a rock, gulping water like his life depended on it.

“I did it!” he panted, clearly proud of himself. “See? I told you I could change!”

I knelt beside him, kissed his sweaty cheek, and smiled. “We’re over, Mark.”

His eyes widened. “Wait—what?!”

“You heard me. We’re done. I wanted to see how far you’d go to save yourself, and now I know. I’m not marrying you. Hope Amanda was worth it.”

He scrambled to his feet, still wheezing. “Cathy, no! You can’t leave me here!”

“Oh, but I can,” I said, already heading back down the trail.

“Wait! You’ll have to wait for me at the car!” he shouted after me.

Without looking back, I called over my shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’ll leave the keys for you.”

Spoiler alert: I didn’t leave the keys. I drove home and left him stranded at the top of that mountain with no phone signal and no way down.

By the time he finally made it back home that evening, I’d already packed up all his stuff and left it on the porch with a note:

“Thanks for the hike! Enjoy your new single life. P.S. I changed the locks.”

He had to call his ex to come pick him up. Fitting, don’t you think?

The next day, my phone blew up with messages and missed calls from Mark. I ignored most of them, but one voicemail caught my attention:

“Cathy, please. I know I messed up, but I love you. Can we talk? Please?”

I deleted it without a second thought, poured myself a glass of wine, and started browsing travel sites. Maybe a solo trip to Europe was just what I needed.

Would I have done anything differently? Maybe I could’ve staged a fake bear attack and filmed his reaction. That would’ve gone viral. But for now, I’m just focusing on me—new apartment, new hobbies, and definitely no cheating fiancés.

So, what would you have done? Forgive, or get even? Let me know in the comments!