My Stepfather Cheated on My Mom, and She Stayed Silent – I Made Him Regret It

I clicked open his email, and my stomach dropped.

There were dozens of messages, not from just one woman, but three. One was asking when he’d “finally leave that clingy wife.” Another sent a photo in lingerie captioned, “Thinking of last nig.”

I took screenshots of everything and emailed them to myself. I even found hotel bookings under different names. One was for the same weekend he told Mom he was at a work conference in Ohio.

Footsteps upstairs made me jump. I shut the laptop and ducked out the back door just as Mike came down, humming like nothing in the world could touch him.

Jacob was waiting across the street in his car.

“I got it,” I whispered as I slid in. “It’s bad. Really bad.”

“Let’s go, kid,” he said. “Time to finish this.”

We spent the next day putting everything together. Jacob helped me print out the emails, label the hotel receipts, and organize the photos into a folder. It wasn’t about being petty; it was about making it undeniable. Neat. Cold. Professional.

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