To Catch a Cheating Boyfriend

She stashed some money in my purse. “My friend says you can help me find out whether my boyfriend is a cheater or not,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. Amerley would not kill me. The whole thing had started innocently enough—I'd caught her boyfriend cheating by pure chance and told her. Since then, she'd decided I was some kind of private investigator. Every other week, she was sending someone my way to "get answers." At first, it was kind of fun, but now? It was exhausting.

Then I peeked into my purse and saw the money she’d stashed there. My annoyance faded instantly. Five crisp 100-cedi notes. Five hundred cedis for a little investigation? Suddenly, this wasn’t so annoying anymore.

“Fine,” I said with a shrug, pocketing the money. “Send me the details.”

By the time I got home, she’d sent everything on Snapchat: his username, some photos, even a little backstory. I added him casually and started snapping him a few generic pictures, but I quickly shifted gears—nothing too explicit at first, but just enough to catch his interest. It worked like a charm.

Soon, I was streaking him some spicy nudes. Nothing with my face in it, obviously. He was thrilled. Too thrilled. He didn’t even care that I was a complete stranger—he was just happy for the pictures. I had him hooked.

We started chatting more, and honestly? I couldn’t lie. I liked his vibe. He was funny, charming, and easy to talk to. He liked my vibe too—at least, the version of me I’d curated just for this trap.

When I asked if he had a girlfriend, he denied it without hesitation. “Nah, I’m single. Been single for a while,” he said casually. That was all I needed. I couldn’t take screenshots on Snapchat without alerting him, so I used another phone to take pictures of the chat.

The funny thing is, the more we talked, the more I found myself actually liking him. Enough to agree to meet up. The plan was simple: reel him in, get more proof, and hand it all over to the girl. But when I saw him in person? Everything went sideways.

He was gorgeous. Smooth, dark skin, a killer smile, and the kind of charisma that could make you forget your own name. He was sweet too, pulling out my chair, asking thoughtful questions, laughing at all the right times.

I didn’t just like him—I wanted him. And before I knew it, I gave him the cookie on the first date. Yeah, I slept with him. And while he was passed out in my bed afterward, I took pictures of him as evidence. I told myself it was part of the mission, but deep down, I knew I was in too deep.

The day came for the grand reveal. We all met at a restaurant—me, the girl, and him. I had tipped her off, letting her know when and where to show up. For him, I played it like it was a second date. Everything was set.

The girl burst into the restaurant, her voice loud enough to turn heads. “You liar!” she shouted, storming over to our table. “You’ve been cheating on me!”

He looked genuinely confused—or maybe he was just that good of an actor. “What are you talking about?” he asked, his tone calm and measured. “I thought we were meeting here because of you,” he said, turning to me.

“What?” I stammered.

“This girl,” he continued, pointing to me, “asked me to come here because she said she had something planned for me.”

I was stunned. “You’re lying!” I snapped, pulling out my phone. I showed the pictures, the chats, everything. “You said you didn’t have a girlfriend!”

He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “These are doctored pictures. Have we even met before this?”

My jaw dropped. He was good. So good that, to my utter disbelief, the girl turned on me. “You’re lying,” she said, glaring at me. “You probably just wanted him for yourself.”

“I—what?!” I sputtered. “You paid me to do this!”