Cleo was alone again—her husband Benjamin away on yet another “business trip.” When a pipe burst in the bathroom, she reached out to her building’s group chat in desperation. Jake, a neighbor she barely knew, offered help and arrived with calm confidence and a toolbox. He fixed the leak, and Cleo was grateful. But the next morning, she noticed Jake had left his pliers behind.
Intent on returning them, Cleo knocked on Jake’s door. It swung open—and her world shattered.
Standing shirtless beside Jake was Benjamin.
Cleo froze. Her husband, supposedly hundreds of miles away, was here. In Jake’s apartment. The unmade bed, the wine glasses, the cologne—it all screamed betrayal. Benjamin stammered, Jake looked away, and Cleo’s heart broke in real time.
She stormed inside, demanded answers, and got none. Instead, she got confirmation: the man she trusted had been living a lie. With Jake.
Furious and humiliated, Cleo hurled the pliers onto the bed. “You’ll be needing those,” she said coldly. Then she snapped photos of the scene and walked out.
Back in her apartment, she called her lawyer. “I need to file for divorce. Tonight.”
The next morning, she posted the photos to the building chat. Her neighbors were stunned. Benjamin begged her to take them down. She refused.
“You made your choices,” she said. “Now you’ll live with them.”
Cleo didn’t just return a tool—she reclaimed her power.
