PART 1 OF 3

The Cheater Who Called Me a Cheater

They say cheaters project. They were right. This is the story of how I turned the tables on my gaslighting ex.

Chapter 1: The Year of Psychological Warfare

Jake and I had been together for three years. The first two years were fine—not perfect, but fine. Normal relationship stuff. Arguments about whose turn it was to do dishes, debates about which Netflix show to binge, disagreements about visiting each other’s families for the holidays.

But the last year? Pure psychological warfare.

It started small. Jake would check my phone when I was in the shower. At first, I didn’t even notice. Then one day, I came out to find him scrolling through my messages, and when I asked what he was doing, he said he’d just picked it up by accident.

By accident. Right.

Then came the questions. Where was I going? Who was I talking to? Why did that male coworker text me about the quarterly report? Why was I smiling at my phone? Who made me laugh like that?

The jealousy was irrational and exhausting. A guy from accounting emailed me about expense reports, and Jake interrogated me for twenty minutes about whether we’d ever been alone together. My childhood friend posted a funny meme on my Facebook, and Jake wanted to know the entire history of our friendship.

Then he started making jokes. In front of our friends. Little comments about how I was “probably cheating” or how I “seemed like the type to have guys on the side.” When I’d get upset, he’d laugh and say I was overreacting.

“Why are you so defensive? Guilty people get defensive.”

That became his favorite line. Anytime I protested his accusations or stood up for myself, I was being defensive. And defensive people, according to Jake, were guilty people.

Chapter 2: The Discovery

It was Teresa who first caught him. She’d been my best friend since high school—basically like a sister. She knew something was wrong with Jake, but she didn’t know the full extent until one night when she came over after I’d texted her about another one of Jake’s wild accusations.

I showed her the text exchange. Jake had questioned why I got home fifteen minutes late from grocery shopping and suggested I was “meeting someone.” Fifteen minutes. Because the checkout line was long and I’d stopped for gas.

Teresa got this weird look on her face. “Can I show you something?”

She pulled up a dating app on her phone and showed me a profile. Jake’s profile. Active that very day. His bio said he was single and “looking for fun.”

I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. The room spun. My hands started shaking.

“How long have you known?”

Teresa looked guilty. “A few weeks. A friend of mine matched with him on the app. She recognized him from your social media photos. But I wanted to be sure before I said anything. I’ve been gathering evidence.”

Evidence. My best friend had been conducting an investigation into my boyfriend’s infidelity.

She showed me screenshots. Multiple dating profiles. Conversations with different women. All while he was at home, accusing me of being unfaithful.

The audacity. The absolute, breathtaking audacity.

Chapter 3: Gathering Intel

That night, Teresa and I formulated a plan. We weren’t just going to confront him. We were going to gather evidence. We were going to understand the full scope of his betrayal.

And then we were going to destroy him.

Teresa created a fake dating profile using photos of a model friend who’d given her permission. Within hours, she matched with Jake. He didn’t even hesitate. Didn’t question whether this gorgeous woman was too good to be true. Just dove right in.

Their chats were vile. Absolutely vile.

He told her he was single. Complained about his “psycho ex”—meaning me, his current girlfriend—who he was “trying to break up with” but who “wouldn’t take the hint.”

When Teresa’s fake profile asked why he didn’t just end it, Jake wrote: “She pays half the rent and does all the cooking and cleaning. Why give that up until I find something better?”

I read that message while sitting on Teresa’s couch, eating ice cream straight from the container, tears streaming down my face. Not because I was sad. Because I was furious.

But it got worse. So much worse.

Jake started sending Teresa’s fake profile screenshots of conversations with other girls he was seeing. Multiple women. They would make fun of me together. Mock my appearance. Laugh about how clueless I was.

One message read: “I almost gag when she tries to kiss me.”

Some girl responded: “You’re such a saint for putting up with her. I would have left ages ago.”

Jake wrote back: “It’s complicated, but not for long. I promise.”

Chapter 4: The Plan Takes Shape

I didn’t confront him right away. Teresa and I decided we needed more than just evidence. We needed a plan. Not just to catch him. To absolutely destroy him.

The next few weeks were the hardest of my life. I played the perfect girlfriend while Teresa continued chatting with him through the fake profile. I smiled when he kissed me goodbye in the mornings. I cooked his meals and did his laundry. I even apologized when he accused me of flirting with the delivery guy who literally just handed me our food and left.

All the while, I was plotting.

One night, Jake came home late, smelling like unfamiliar perfume. When I casually mentioned it, he exploded.

“You’re being paranoid! Maybe you should talk to someone about your insecurities. Maybe you’re depressed. You haven’t been yourself lately.”

He was gaslighting me. Literally trying to convince me I was mentally unstable for noticing he smelled like another woman.

I smiled and apologized, all while mentally adding this to my list of reasons he deserved what was coming.

Chapter 5: Follow the Money

I went through our finances. We had a joint account for bills, but Jake also had his own savings account that he was always bragging about. How disciplined he was with money. How he was saving for “our future.”

What a joke.

Looking at our bank statements, I could see large withdrawals on nights he claimed he was working late. Expensive restaurants. Hotel charges. Gift shop purchases.

That’s when I knew exactly where to hit him: his ego and his wallet.

I called an emergency meeting with Teresa. We needed reinforcements. We needed someone who could get close to Jake, make him fall hard, and extract maximum damage.

That’s when I thought of my cousin Vicki.

Chapter 6: Enter Vicki

I called Vicki and Teresa for an emergency meeting. When I told Vicki the full situation—the gaslighting, the accusations, the dating profiles, the cruel messages—she was furious on my behalf.

“What Jake is doing isn’t just cheating,” she said, her voice tight with anger. “It’s emotional abuse. He’s systematically breaking you down, making you question your reality. This is textbook psychological manipulation.”

Teresa showed Vicki all the evidence she’d gathered. The dating profiles. The messages mocking me. The conversations where Jake talked about using me for rent and housework until he found “something better.”

By the end of our three-hour conversation, I wasn’t just angry anymore. I was calculating. Cold. Ready.

That night, I watched Jake texting on his phone with that stupid little smirk on his face—probably telling some other woman how hideous I looked while simultaneously accusing me of texting someone inappropriate.

I made my decision right there.

This wasn’t going to be a simple breakup. This wasn’t going to be a dramatic confrontation where he’d cry and apologize and promise to change.

This was going to be revenge. Cold, calculated, devastating revenge.

Chapter 7: Operation Gym Encounter

Jake went to the fitness club downtown every Tuesday and Thursday like clockwork. He claimed it was for “training sessions,” but I suspected he was trolling for women. Now I knew I was right.

Vicki got a guest pass through a friend who was a member. We studied Jake’s routine from his Instagram—because of course he posted workout selfies with timestamps. What a predictable tool.

We knew exactly when and where to position Vicki for maximum impact.

The first day of Operation Takedown, Vicki texted me from the gym: “Target acquired. He hasn’t stopped staring since I walked in.”

What happened next was so predictable it was almost boring. Jake “accidentally” bumped into her while getting a towel. Started a conversation about protein shakes. Asked for her number to “share workout tips.”

By that evening, he was already texting her.

I sat on my couch with Vicki, reading every message, my stomach in knots. Teresa brought wine and takeout, insisting we needed fuel for the psychological warfare ahead.

The texts were exactly what you’d expect. Compliments about how fit Vicki looked. Questions about whether she was single. Suggestions that they should grab a smoothie sometime.

Here’s the thing: Jake had no idea Vicki was my cousin. We looked similar, but not obviously so unless you were really paying attention. And Jake? He never really paid attention to me anymore.

Chapter 8: The First Date

Vicki and Jake had their first date three days later. He told me he had a work event that night. I kissed him goodbye, told him to have fun, and then immediately drove to Teresa’s apartment.

We tracked the whole evening through Vicki’s play-by-play texts.

He took her to this ridiculously expensive restaurant—one I’d been hinting about for months, especially for our anniversary. He’d always said we couldn’t afford it. Apparently, we could afford it for someone else.

Vicki texted: “He ordered the most expensive wine. Now he’s bragging about his ‘important job’ and his ‘substantial savings account.'”

Then: “He just said he’s ‘practically single’ and ‘wrapping up a dead-end relationship.’ I need to excuse myself before I throw this wine in his face.”

When Vicki sent us a bathroom selfie from the restaurant, showing Jake visible at the table behind her, I almost threw up. It was surreal. My boyfriend was on a date with my cousin while I sat on my best friend’s couch eating popcorn and plotting revenge.

Teresa kept reminding me that this was all evidence. That soon he’d pay for everything. Literally.

The plan was working perfectly. Almost too perfectly.

Over the next few weeks, Jake became obsessed with Vicki. He started canceling our plans to see her. Coming home later. Walking around with this smug look on his face, like he had some amazing secret.

Meanwhile, Vicki reported back everything to me and Teresa.

And the money spending began.