Plot for Revenge

"Are you really my boyfriend?" asked Maelle for the fifth time that day.

We were at her house and she was eating ice cream in an attempt to combat the scorching Summer heat.

Yes, I'm your boyfriend but I really wish I wasn't.

In a fake amused tone, I responded, "If you keep repeating that stupid question, I'm going to give a different answer eventually."

It'd been two weeks since I returned to the past with memories of the future and a changed mindset.

I still hadn't forgiven God who refused to respond to me ever since that night.

"It's not a stupid question, babe. It's a valid one, in my humble opinion."

The only thing humble about you is the fact that you want me to buy you thousand-dollar purses and not ten-thousand-dollar purses.

I was no longer worried about her reckless spending and desires because I had already invested a lot of the money that I had into things I knew were going to pay off.

The only reason why I was still playing along with her gold digger ways was because my revenge needed time to curate to perfection.

"I'm convinced that my boyfriend was replaced by an alien while I was asleep. Baby, are you an alien?" she asked.

No bitch. I'm not an alien. I'm a time traveler from the future who's about to ruin your life.

It was so hard for me to keep these thoughts to myself but patience was my mantra.

Shouldn't I have already moved on since my actual last memory of our relationship was decades ago?

Fuck no. Absolutely fucking not.

If it wasn't for the girl who became my eventual wife, I would've killed myself on a bridge on that snowy night.

There was no forgiveness for this girl.

"Yes, Maelle, I'm an alien," I said as I got off the ground.

I had been doing push-ups the entire time. Whenever I had free time, I'd either be doing push-ups, running, squats, or pull-ups.

It was hard to get started with this weak body but once I got used to the body, I started to make slow but steady progress.

Looking at my body which was starting to get a little bigger, she bit her lips and said, "Baby, why don't you go take a shower and I'll wait for you in the bedroom?"

One of the reasons why she cheated on me was, if I remember her exact words correctly, "You just can't fuck me the way that I want to be fucked. The sex they provide me allows me to come home to you every night and be happy. Don't you want a happy girlfriend?"

Absolutely psychopath.

My wife was the exact opposite. Instead of reaching out to others to satisfy her needs, she was patient and not only took the time to teach me things about the female body but the two of us grew together, both physically and mentally.

Something that this bitch will never be able to do. Once a bitch, always a bitch.

It felt like I was using the B-word more than ever. 

.

.

.

"Baby... what was that?" she asked, out of breath, lying lifeless on the bed.

She looked at me with confusion, bliss, and happiness.

I didn't want to use my experience with my wife to satisfy another woman but it wasn't like I had a wife to remain loyal to. She was gone and I might as well use what she taught me to get what I want.

"How was that?" I asked as I picked Maelle's chin up with the side of my index finger and kissed her bottom lip.

"That was the best sex I've ever had," she answered, playfully kicking her legs. "How did you get so good?"

"I read a few articles online," I lied.

Satisfied with her response, I told her that I was going to get some ice cream from the freezer. She asked me to bring her one as well.

This was part two of my plans. I wanted her to get addicted to me.

Part one was already completed a week ago. I hired a private investigator and had them take pictures and videos of her with her sex friends.

Once she got addicted to me, the next part of the plan was to make her eventually cut off the rest of her sex friends because there was no need for her to risk getting caught cheating when her boyfriend was able to provide the pleasure that she wanted.

I wanted to become the perfect boyfriend that she could ever ask for.

Rich, hot, and good in bed.

Only then will revenge taste the sweetest.

I met Maelle in my junior year of high school. She went to the same school as me and I fell in love, not with her looks but with her personality.

She to me was the person that I wanted to be like the most.

I was a loser nerd while she was a person despite what others thought, did whatever she wanted, which I guess was an early warning from the universe about her infidelity.

I thought I had the world in my hand when she asked me to be her boyfriend, not knowing she had discovered the sudden wealth that I inherited with my grandfather's passing.

Maelle was eating the ice cream while lying down, dripping the melted cream onto the bed sheet that we would have to change anyway from the mess that we had made.

As she licked the last bit of ice cream off the wooden stick, I grabbed her hips and lifted them up.

"Baby?" she uttered.

"Let's go another round."

I listened to her gulp.

Three weeks later, it took a little longer than expected but the private investigator told me that she had cut off contact with her sex friends.

Time for step four of the plan. 

At first, I started by subtly rearranging the objects in her home, turning and moving them a few centimeters.

"Baby, did you touch my plant?" she asked, poking her head out of the bedroom.

"No. Why?"

"...Nothing."

Then I moved her things to completely different areas of her house while she was at work. For example, I took one picture frame from the bedroom and one from the living room and had them swap spots.

"Baby! Did you move my pictures?"

"Wh-what? Why would I do that? No," I said shaking my head.

She didn't push any further because, in her head, I was still her innocent gullible boyfriend who would never lie to her.

Next, I completely tampered with her belongings. I replaced her shampoo with a similar-looking shampoo that had a completely different scent. I removed batteries from her remotes.

She looked at the remote and scratched her head.

"I swear I put batteries in them already," she said.

"Hmm? There are no batteries in the remote? Want me to go buy you some?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No. I should have spare batteries in the drawer."

Next, I began changing out her lightbulbs to be a little dimmer, adjusted the thermostat just a little bit, and changed the wallpaper on her computer.

At this point, she didn't bother asking if it was me but instead, was asking herself if she was going crazy.

Yes, you crazy bitch, you are going crazy. No no. You've been crazy. 

Next, I began to tell her stories of the past and altered them a little bit so that she couldn't recall them.

"Wait... I thought that we ordered the taco, not the burrito."

"No. I'm pretty sure it was a burrito. Look, I even have the picture," I said, showing her a photoshopped picture of us on the date that I was referring to.

"Wh-what... it was a burrito?"

The last two parts of this step of my plan were a little more extreme.

Hiring a hacker, I had them gain access to her online accounts and I began sending misleading messages to her friends and coworkers but would delete them later so that Maelle wouldn't be able to see them.

She called me in the middle of the night to rant about her friend calling her a "snake" for no damn reason.

Slowly, she was starting to get isolated from the people in her circle and all that she had left was me.

That's when I stopped my antics for a while. A week went by of her finding comfort and solace in me. Attached to me was an understatement. Her phone calls increased by a dozen times a day and if she didn't see and cuddle with me at least twice a day, she'd be stressed.

I was the only rock in the world that wasn't off-putting to her.

I was her only anchor keeping her from getting washed away by the crazy changes that were occurring in her life.

Just when everything was starting to cool down and she had managed to gain some sort of normalcy back into her life, I had someone texting her a cryptic message to her phone, saying that they were watching the two of us.

She was about to tell me about the text when a second text came.

Although she hid it, I already knew what the context was.

[I know your secret. Five guys is a lot.]

I could see in the side of my eyes that she was panicking but was trying her best not to show it because she didn't want me to inquire about what text she had just received.

After I left her house to head back home despite her asking me to stay over, she began receiving more texts.

[I can see you. That green dress looks good on you.]

She closed the curtains but that didn't matter because I was looking at her through hidden cameras.

[Hiding in the bathroom won't help. I'll expose your secret eventually. That day... will be very fun.]

She ran out of her house and I couldn't see what she was doing but half an hour later, she was at my door.

I opened it and she started immediately crying. I hugged her, asking her what was wrong, trying to calm her down.

I guess it was just in her whore nature but her way of receiving comfort was to release all her feelings out during sex.

I told her that I had to work the next day but she begged me for some dick so I complied. I asked the other person texting her to send his text in the middle of our session and when her phone dinged, she immediately grabbed it from the nightstand.

"...Baby? What was that all about?" I asked as I looked at her with suspicious eyes.

"N-nothing," she said, shaking her head.

"...I wasn't going to look at your text. I'm not the sort of person to betray people's privacy. Y-you know that," I said, shaking my head in disbelief. "Do you not even trust me after all these years we've been together?"

"Babe... it's not like that," she sighed.

"Then what? If you can't trust me then I won't trust you either. What was the text about?" I asked.

She hadn't even read it yet.

She looked down at her phone, read the message, and then looked back up at me with an apologetic look.

To make her feel like a crazy paranoid person, I had the person text her an advertisement for a data company from a different number.