Cheating Wife Brought Her Affair Partner Home, “He’ll Get Me Pregnant Don’t Bother Us ” Revenge

“She was still using her access codes,” Rachel explained, spreading the documents across her desk. “Someone called in a favor.” “You think Christie asked her to fake the results?” “I think we need to find out.” Rachel’s investigator was a former police detective named Mike Torres, quiet guy, methodical, the kind of person who noticed things other people missed.

Within a week, he’d tracked down Angela’s current address and employment. More importantly, he’d found a former colleague of hers who was willing to talk. “Angela bragged about it,” the former colleague said during our meeting at a coffee shop downtown. Her name was Lisa, and she looked nervous, constantly glancing around like she expected someone to be watching.

Said her yoga friend needed help getting out of a marriage, something about editing a PDF file, making it look like the husband couldn’t have kids. She thought it was funny.” “Funny how?” Rachel asked. “Like it was some kind of clever scheme. Angela always thought she was smarter than everyone else. She said the guy would never know because men don’t understand medical stuff anyway.

” Rachel had brought a small recording device, which Lisa had agreed to. The recording was devastating. “This is fraud,” Rachel said after we’d left the coffee shop, “criminal fraud. We need to move fast before they destroy any evidence. But, first, we needed more.” Mike Torres spent another week digging into Angela’s life, tracking her movements, building a timeline.

What he found was even more damaging than we’d hoped. Angela had been struggling financially since losing her job at the lab. Her current employment was part-time work at a different medical facility, barely enough to cover her expenses. But, 3 weeks after my test results came back, the same day Christie filed for divorce, Angela had made a $5,000 deposit into her checking account.

Cash deposit, Mike explained, showing us the bank records he’d obtained through legal channels. No source listed, but the timing is pretty suspicious. We also discovered that Angela and Christie had been in much closer contact than either of them had let on. Phone records showed dozens of calls between them in the weeks leading up to my test, including a lengthy conversation the night before my results were supposed to be ready.

The emergency hearing was scheduled for the following Thursday. Rachel filed motions to freeze all assets, halt the divorce proceedings, and compel the lab to preserve all electronic records related to my case. The night before the hearing, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Christie’s face when she’d read that fake report, the performance of disappointment, the calculated sympathy.

Judge Martinez was a stern woman in her 50s who looked like she’d seen every type of family court drama imaginable. She listened to Rachel’s presentation with the focus of a hawk studying prey. Your Honor, Rachel said, standing at the plaintiff’s table, we have evidence that Mrs.

Harris conspired to falsify medical records in order to manipulate these divorce proceedings. We’re requesting an immediate forensic audit of the laboratory’s computer systems. Christie’s lawyer, a slick-looking guy named Patterson, objected vigorously. This is a desperate attempt to delay inevitable proceedings, Your Honor. My client has done nothing wrong.

Furthermore, Patterson continued, rising from his seat, these allegations are based on hearsay and speculation. My client’s decision to end her marriage was based on legitimate medical information provided by a licensed facility. Judge Martinez studied the preliminary evidence for what felt like an hour. Finally, she looked up.

I’m granting the asset freeze, she announced. All marital property will be held in escrow pending investigation. The court will also order a complete forensic examination of the laboratory’s records. Christie’s face went white. I watched her lean over to whisper frantically to her lawyer, saw him shake his grimly. For the first time since this whole nightmare began, I felt something that wasn’t despair.

But Christie wasn’t going down without a fight. That evening, she showed up at my house. I was in the garage working on my truck, trying to keep my hands busy while my mind raced through everything that had happened in court. I heard the front door slam and footsteps in the hallway. “Tommy!” she called out. “We need to talk.

” I found her in the living room, pacing like a caged animal. She looked different, thinner, more frantic. Her usually perfect hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she wasn’t wearing makeup. “This is insane.” she said the moment she saw me. “You’re going to destroy both of us over some conspiracy theory.

” “Conspiracy theory?” I kept my voice level. “Christie, we have evidence.” “You have accusations from some disgruntled former employee who probably has her own agenda.” She stepped closer, and I could see desperation in her eyes. “Do you really think I’m capable of something like this?” “Two weeks ago, I would have said no.” She flinched like I’d slapped her.

“I made a mistake, okay? I panicked when I saw those results. But that doesn’t mean I orchestrated some elaborate fraud.” “Then explain the phone calls. Explain the money Angela deposited.” Christie’s expression shifted, and for just a moment, I saw something calculating flash across her features. “What phone calls? What money?” “Don’t I held up a hand.

Don’t make this worse by lying to my face.” She was quiet for a long moment, studying me like she was trying to figure out her next move. Finally, she sank into the armchair by the window. “Okay.” she said quietly. “Maybe I did ask Angela for a favor.” My stomach dropped, even though I’d been expecting this admission.

Hearing her say it out loud was different. “What kind of favor?” “I asked her to adjust the results. Make them look worse than they were. Worse than they were, Christie? The real results show I’m completely normal. She looked up sharply. What? We got the original files before Angela edited them.

There’s nothing wrong with me. The color drained from her face. That’s not She said she was just going to make them look a little concerning. Something we could work around, but that would give me some leverage in the divorce. Leverage for what? For the money. The words exploded out of her and she immediately looked like she regretted saying them.

For my future, Tommy. I’m 37 years old. I’ve spent 13 years working at a yoga studio for barely above minimum wage while you while we live like we were broke even when we weren’t. We weren’t broke before the inheritance either. We weren’t rich. She stood up pacing again. Do you know what it’s like to watch your friends buy houses and take vacations and send their kids to good schools while you’re clipping coupons and shopping at thrift stores? So you decided to steal my inheritance.

I decided to take what I deserved. Her voice was rising now. The careful mask she’d worn for so many years finally slipping completely. 13 years, Tommy. 13 years of being the good wife, the supportive wife while you played it safe and never took any risks. Playing it safe kept us fed and housed. Playing it safe kept us poor.

She spun around to face me, eyes blazing. And then suddenly there’s all this money and you want to just What? Keep living like nothing changed? I wanted to be smart about it. You wanted to control it. Just like you controlled everything else in our marriage. I stared at her, seeing clearly for the first time the woman I’d actually been married to.

Not the sweet supportive partner I thought I knew, but someone who’d been keeping score for years, calculating what she was owed. Get out, I said quietly. Tommy, get out of my house. Now. She looked like she wanted to argue, but something in my expression must have warned her off. She grabbed her purse and headed for the door, then paused in the doorway.

“You’ll regret this,” she said. “When Connor and I are married and living the life I should have had all along, you’ll realize what you’ve lost.” “I already know what I’ve lost,” I replied. Turns out it wasn’t much. The forensic audit took 3 weeks. When the results came back, they were even worse than I’d imagined.

Angela Reyes had accessed the lab system remotely on the day before my results were supposed to be ready. She’d opened my file, edited the PDF report to show zero activity, and saved it back to the system. But here’s what she didn’t know. The lab’s backup system automatically saved copies of all original files before any edits were made.

The real report showed a normal, healthy count. But that wasn’t all. The computer forensics team had also recovered deleted text messages from Angela’s work phone. The conversations between her and Christie were laid out in devastating detail. Christie, can you make them look really bad? Like no hope at all? Angela, how bad is really bad? Christie, bad enough that no one would blame me for leaving.

Angela, that’s going to cost extra. Christie, how much extra? Angela, five grand, and you never got this for me. Christie, deal. When can you do it? Rachel scheduled another emergency hearing. This time she came armed with everything. The original lab results, the computer forensics, Angela’s employment records, the financial trail, and the recovered text messages.

“Your Honor,” Rachel said, her voice cutting through the courtroom like a blade, “the defendant orchestrated an elaborate fraud designed to steal my client’s inheritance and destroy his marriage under false pretenses. The evidence is overwhelming.” She laid it out piece by piece. The yoga class connection, Angela’s illegal access to the lab systems, the fake results, the payment, the text messages discussing how to make the fraud convincing.

Judge Martinez’s expression grew darker with each revelation. When Rachel finished her presentation, the judge turned to Christie’s lawyer. Does your client have any response to these allegations? Patterson looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor. Your honor, my client maintains her innocence and Mr. Patterson, the judge interrupted.

I’ve seen a lot of creative approaches to divorce settlements in my courtroom. But falsifying medical records to defraud a spouse, that’s a new low. She turned her attention to Christie, who was slumped in her chair like a deflated balloon. Mrs. Harris, you are hereby ordered to appear before this court next week to show cause why you should not be held in contempt.

Additionally, all your claims to marital property are dismissed with prejudice. The inheritance remains the separate property of your husband. The gavel came down with a sound like thunder. Outside the courthouse, Christie tried to approach me. She looked terrible, pale, thin with dark circles under her eyes that makeup couldn’t hide.

Tommy, she said, her voice breaking. Can we talk? Please? Talk to my lawyer, I said, not stopping. I made a mistake, she called after me. I was scared. I was thinking about my future, about what I wanted. I turned around. You destroyed my life for money, Christie. You made me believe I was broken just so you could justify leaving me.

It wasn’t supposed to go this far, she whispered. I just wanted out. I wanted a different life. You got it, I said. Enjoy it. But the legal system wasn’t done with Christie yet. The criminal charges came down a week later. Angela Reyes was arrested for computer fraud and falsifying medical records.