I Found Out My Therapist Is My Husband’s Mistress, So I Turned Our Meeting into Her Worst Nightmare

Discovering that my therapist was my husband’s mistress was a shocking revelation, but the situation became even more twisted when I learned the full extent of his betrayal. With deceit unraveling around me, I joined forces with the unlikeliest of allies to expose his lies and reclaim control of my life.

I knew that something was up when my husband, Nick, suggested paying for my therapy and picked a doctor for me. My suspicion started when he came home one evening, unusually enthusiastic.

A woman listening to her husband | Source: Pexels

A woman listening to her husband | Source: Pexels

“Tracy, I’ve been thinking,” he said, setting his briefcase down. “Maybe you should see someone. You know, a therapist. My friend recommended Dr. Kenner. She’s really good.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s this about, Nick? You’ve never suggested therapy before.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’ve seemed stressed lately. Ever since your mom passed away, you’ve been different. I thought talking to someone might help.”

A woman lying awake in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

A woman lying awake in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

That night, I couldn’t sleep. Nick had never shown this kind of concern before. The next morning, I decided to dig into Dr. Kenner’s background. It didn’t take long to uncover the connection between Nick and Dr. Kenner, who was actually his mistress, Sophie.

The discovery was accidental. I was going through some old photos on Nick’s phone, looking for pictures of my mom, when I stumbled upon a series of messages between him and Sophie. They were explicit, filled with professions of love and plans to be together.

A closeup shot of a woman checking a phone | Source: Pexels

A closeup shot of a woman checking a phone | Source: Pexels

But what caught my eye was a picture of Sophie in one of the messages. When I met Dr. Kenner, I realized they were the same woman.

My hands shook as I read the messages.

Nick: “Can’t wait to see you tonight. Tracy thinks I’m working late.”

Sophie: “I miss you so much, Nick. Just a few more hours.”

Nick: “I love you, Sophie. Soon, we’ll be together without sneaking around.”

Sophie: “I love you too, Nick. Remember, keep pushing her to come to therapy. It’s the best way to keep her distracted.”

A close-up shot of a person sending text messages | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of a person sending text messages | Source: Pexels

My heart raced as I continued reading, feeling a tornado of rage and heartbreak. The betrayal was more profound than I could have imagined.

My first session with Dr. Kenner was nerve-wracking. She welcomed me with a professional smile, “Hello, Tracy. I’m Dr. Kenner. How can I help you today?”

I forced a smile. “Well, my husband thinks I need therapy. So here I am.”

She nodded, jotting down notes. “Why don’t you tell me about your relationship with your husband?”

A woman talking to a therapist during an appointment | Source: Pexels

A woman talking to a therapist during an appointment | Source: Pexels

I took a deep breath and began my game. “Nick? Oh, he’s quite the character. Always complaining, never satisfied. Sometimes, I wonder why I married him.”

Dr. Kenner’s pen paused. She looked up, her eyes searching mine. “That sounds challenging.”

I nodded. “You have no idea. He’s so…impossible at times. Can’t even fix a leaky faucet without making a fuss.”

The sessions continued, each one more bizarre than the last. I fed her lies and watched her struggle to hide her reactions. It was a twisted dance, and I was leading.

A therapist taking down notes during an appointment | Source: Pexels

A therapist taking down notes during an appointment | Source: Pexels

One afternoon, I decided to push her buttons. “You know, Nick’s been acting really weird lately. Almost like he’s hiding something. Maybe an affair?”

Her face turned pale, but she quickly composed herself. “What makes you think that?”

I shrugged. “Just a hunch. He’s not as attentive as he used to be. And he’s always on his phone.”

She cleared her throat. “That must be hard for you, Tracy. Have you confronted him?”

I shook my head. “No, not yet. But I’m watching him closely.”

A man smiling while using his phone | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling while using his phone | Source: Midjourney

When I got home, Nick was waiting. “How was therapy?”

I gave him a sly smile. “Oh, it was enlightening. Dr. Kenner had quite a lot to say.”

His face went pale. “Really? Like what?”

I shrugged, walking past him. “You know, just the usual.”

Nick didn’t follow me, too stunned to respond. I knew the game was on, and I was just getting started.

I spent the next few days preparing for my next session. I wanted to push Dr. Kenner further, to see how much she could take before breaking. To my surprise, the opportunity presented itself sooner than I had expected.

A smiling woman talking via laptop while sitting in the kitchen | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman talking via laptop while sitting in the kitchen | Source: Pexels

Last week, during one of our online therapy sessions, things took an unexpected turn. Dr. Kenner seemed unusually tense from the start. I decided it was time to push her over the edge.

“So, about Nick,” I began, casually. “I’ve noticed he’s getting even more pathetic lately. He actually cried last night because he couldn’t find his favorite socks. Can you believe that?”

Dr. Kenner’s face turned red. She stood up abruptly, knocking over her chair. “THAT’S ENOUGH!” she shouted, her voice trembling. “You’re playing games, Tracy! I know Nick isn’t as bad as you’re making him out to be.”

An angry female therapist | Source: Midjourney

An angry female therapist | Source: Midjourney

I leaned back, smiling. “Oh, really? And how would you know that, Dr. Kenner?”

Her eyes widened, realizing her mistake. “I… I just think you’re exaggerating. That’s all.”

I leaned in closer to the camera, dropping my facade. “No, Sophie, I think it’s because you’re his mistress.”

Her face went pale. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. I continued, enjoying the upper hand for the first time in weeks. “I found your messages on Nick’s phone. All those sweet nothings and plans to be together. I know everything. So you can drop the act.”

A close-up shot of a couple sharing a tender moment | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of a couple sharing a tender moment | Source: Pexels

She finally found her voice. “Tracy, I…”

I cut her off. “Save it. I don’t care about your excuses. What’s done is done. But here’s the thing, Sophie. Nick is a loser. He’s been playing us both.”

She sat back down, clearly shaken. “What do you mean?”

I took a deep breath, laying out my plan. “Nick doesn’t deserve either of us. He’s been using me, and now he’s using you. I think it’s time we turn the tables on him.”

Sophie’s curiosity piqued. “What are you suggesting?”

A female therapist holding her brown-framed eyeglasses | Source: Pexels

A female therapist holding her brown-framed eyeglasses | Source: Pexels

I smirked. “We team up. We make him think he’s got everything under control, but really, we’ll be the ones pulling the strings.”

She hesitated. “I don’t know, Tracy. This sounds risky.”

I shrugged. “What’s the alternative? Let him keep playing us for fools? No, we’re smarter than that. And besides, it could be fun.”

Sophie seemed to be considering it. “Alright, I’m in. What’s the plan?”

I leaned forward, eyes glinting with excitement. “First, we need to make him think everything is normal. We play our parts perfectly. You keep being the concerned therapist, and I’ll keep being the stressed-out wife. Then, when the time is right, we hit him where it hurts.”

A woman looking determined | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking determined | Source: Midjourney

Sophie nodded slowly. “Okay, but what’s the endgame?”

I smiled. “We’ll figure that out together. But for now, let’s start with small steps. We need to gather more evidence of his cheating. That way, we can use it against him.”

Over the next few days, Sophie and I started executing our plan. I acted like nothing was wrong, continuing my therapy sessions and playing the role of the unsuspecting wife. Sophie kept up her therapist charade, feeding me information about Nick’s moves.

One evening, as Nick was getting ready to “work late” again, I decided to plant a seed of doubt. “You know, Nick, Dr. Kenner mentioned something interesting today.”

An extreme close-up shot of a man in a white dress shirt and black pants wearing black leather shoes | Source: Unsplash

An extreme close-up shot of a man in a white dress shirt and black pants wearing black leather shoes | Source: Unsplash

He looked up, surprised. “Oh? What did she say?”

I smiled innocently. “She said I should trust my instincts more. That maybe I’m not as paranoid as I think.”

Nick laughed nervously. “Well, that’s good advice, I guess.”

As he left, I sent Sophie a quick text: “He’s on his way. Time to play our parts.”

Sophie replied: “Got it. See you soon.”

Later that night, Sophie messaged me again, detailing their meeting. “He’s getting sloppy. Told me he’s planning a weekend getaway ‘for work.'”

I grinned. “Perfect. Let’s use that.”

A woman drinking tea and using her smartphone | Source: Pexels

A woman drinking tea and using her smartphone | Source: Pexels

For our next therapy session, Sophie was more than ready to play her part as we discussed my turbulent married life.

“So, Dr. Kenner, Nick mentioned something about a work trip this weekend. Did he tell you about that?”

She continued to play along perfectly. “Yes, he did. He seemed excited about it. Why do you ask?”

I pretended to be thoughtful. “Just curious. Do you think I should be worried?”

Sophie gave a sympathetic smile. “Not at all. Trust is important in a relationship. But keep an eye out, just in case.”

A smiling female therapist talking to a female patient in her office | Source: Pexels

A smiling female therapist talking to a female patient in her office | Source: Pexels

We were setting the stage perfectly. Nick had no idea what was coming. As the weekend approached, I gathered all the evidence Sophie and I had collected. Photos, messages, everything. When Nick returned from his “work trip,” I was ready.

He walked through the door, looking tired but happy. “Hey, Tracy. Missed you.”

I handed him the folder of evidence. “Missed you too, Nick. But I think you have some explaining to do.”

His face went from confusion to horror as he flipped through the contents. “Tracy, I…”

A man is shocked as he looks at some papers | Source: Midjourney

A man is shocked as he looks at some papers | Source: Midjourney

I crossed my arms, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction. “Save it. We’re done. And don’t worry, Dr. Kenner will be in touch soon. She has some things to say too.”

Nick stood there, speechless. I turned and walked away, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. For the first time in a long time, I felt in control.

As I left the house, I sent Sophie one last message: “He knows. It’s over.”

She replied almost instantly: “Good. Time for us to move on.”

And just like that, Nick’s double life came crashing down. Sophie and I had outsmarted him, and it felt pretty good. We both deserved better and together, we made sure Nick got what he deserved.

A woman smiling while texting on her phone | Source: Unsplash

A woman smiling while texting on her phone | Source: Unsplash

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