I Found a Christmas Gift in My Husbands Closet, but It Had His Mistress Name on It, So I Switched It to Get Revenge

Finding a hidden Christmas gift should bring joy and excitement, but for one woman, the discovery of a present for her husband’s mistress turned heartbreak into an ingenious act of revenge that was as bold as it was satisfying.

Two days before Christmas, I stumbled upon a red gift box in my husband Jimmy’s closet. Inside was a diamond necklace—one I had admired months ago. But it wasn’t for me. The attached tag read, “Love you, Julie!” My name isn’t Julie.

The signs had been there: late nights at work, unexplained absences, and his phone lighting up at odd hours. But seeing that name on the tag confirmed the betrayal. My heartbreak quickly morphed into a calm resolve. If Jimmy thought he could humiliate me, he had no idea who he was messing with.

The next morning, I called Mark, a crafty friend from college. “How good are you with traps?” I asked.

“Traps? This isn’t about hunting, is it?”

“Not exactly.” I explained my idea: to rig the gift box with a little surprise for Julie, one that would make Christmas unforgettable.

“Alina, are you sure about this?” Mark asked as we worked in his workshop.

“Absolutely,” I replied. “They’ll never see it coming.”

With Mark’s help, the box was rigged to release an explosion of green paint the moment it was opened. I returned it to Jimmy’s closet, exactly where I’d found it, and waited. Christmas morning arrived, and as Jimmy grabbed the box and claimed he was heading to the office for an “emergency meeting,” I smiled sweetly.

“Don’t work too hard,” I said.

I followed him to our favorite restaurant, Honey Bunz, where I saw them together. Julie was everything I wasn’t—polished, blonde, designer-clad. She bounced in her seat as Jimmy slid into the booth and handed her the glittering box.

“Oh my God, Jimmy! You shouldn’t have!” Julie squealed, drawing stares from nearby diners.

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he replied, grinning smugly.

As she opened the box, I counted down under my breath. “Three… two… one…”

SPLAT! A vibrant explosion of green paint erupted from the box, covering Julie, Jimmy, and half the table. Julie shrieked, leaping from her seat. “My dress! My hair! What is this?”

Jimmy stammered, “I… I don’t know…”

“You don’t know? You gave me a booby-trapped gift?” Julie screamed, now the center of attention in the packed restaurant. Diners laughed and snapped pictures.

An elderly woman at a nearby table chuckled. “Best Christmas show I’ve seen in years.”

“Julie, I didn’t—” Jimmy tried to explain, but she cut him off.

“We’re done!” she shouted, storming out and leaving a trail of green paint in her wake.

When Jimmy arrived home, still dripping green, I greeted him with faux concern. “What happened? You look like the Grinch.”

“Kids with paint balloons,” he muttered weakly.

“Oh no, on Christmas?” I handed him an envelope. “By the way, this came for you.”

He opened it to find divorce papers inside. His face fell. “Alina, wait—”

“Wait for what? Another lie? Another excuse?” I pulled the diamond necklace from my pocket. “By the way, I kept this. Julie doesn’t deserve it, and neither do you.”

“Alina, please,” he begged. “It wasn’t serious. She means nothing.”

“Jimmy, a mistake is forgetting an anniversary. Buying your mistress a diamond necklace is a choice. And I’m done with you.”

As I walked out the door, I left him with one last line: “Oh, and Jimmy? Green really isn’t your color.”

The aftermath? The restaurant incident went viral, earning Jimmy the nickname “Green Christmas Cheater.” Julie dumped him on the spot, and he became infamous on dating apps as “the guy with the green paint fiasco.”

As for me, I’ve moved on. That diamond necklace looks stunning with everything I wear, and every time I catch its sparkle, I’m reminded of the day I gave myself the best Christmas gift of all: freedom.

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