When Gina and her husband Brendan decided to separate, she took a break from the drama by staying with her parents for the weekend. But when she came back home, she was shocked to find all her things spread out on the lawn.
To her surprise, Gina discovered a valuable item that belonged to Brendan among the scattered items. This turn of events gave her a chance for some well-deserved revenge.
After deciding to split up, Brendan changed completely. The man she had shared her life with was now replaced by someone who was bitter and resentful.
“You’re complaining about how I act? How I talk?” Brendan shouted.
“I’m just saying you need to calm down. Yelling won’t help you get your point across,” I said, holding my head.
“Oh, come on, Gina,” he yelled even louder. “You made me this way! With all your demands and constant complaints. Just go live your life.”
So, I did.
As the divorce moved forward, Brendan and I tried to organize our things and make a clean break.
“Just let me pack up these items, Gina,” Brendan said one day, rummaging through my bookshelf.
https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?gdpr=0&us_privacy=1—&gpp_sid=-1&client=ca-pub-1773658762833587&output=html&h=280&adk=1030787214&adf=720187423&pi=t.aa~a.95137260~i.23~rp.4&w=622&abgtt=7&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1725902305&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=1191565633&ad_type=text_image&format=622×280&url=https%3A%2F%2Fjokesdaddy.com%2Fi-returned-home-to-find-my-furniture-on-the-curb-my-exs-revenge-was-a-total-flop%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwY2xjawFMDSVleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHYAHkHko4VBJwIKgo-i2YcTNliNhvQJKX2gLUYIJeKwHrdqYp9JbH7Enog_aem_8Tw_lJmy-8mQGSYVjGHsWg&host=ca-host-pub-2644536267352236&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=156&rw=622&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMC4zLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDkuMC41NDE0LjE2OCIsbnVsbCwwLG51bGwsIjY0IixbWyJOb3RfQSBCcmFuZCIsIjk5LjAuMC4wIl0sWyJHb29nbGUgQ2hyb21lIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXSxbIkNocm9taXVtIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXV0sMF0.&dt=1725902294117&bpp=2&bdt=1491&idt=2&shv=r20240904&mjsv=m202409040101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3Da1918bbb8764ee47%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MaZVumXXHZ_r8ay8rIc_wLHZkNFRA&gpic=UID%3D00000de8294ca1d6%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MYK6Nwd1vVe2KMyk5-RmsEA7W_MdQ&eo_id_str=ID%3D416b984e50de4687%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DAA-AfjaIy_YNLEGxhgDI–Ucx1la&prev_fmts=0x0%2C980x280%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C1031x592&nras=6&correlator=1544306263510&frm=20&pv=1&u_tz=420&u_his=2&u_h=768&u_w=1360&u_ah=728&u_aw=1360&u_cd=24&u_sd=1&dmc=8&adx=46&ady=2645&biw=1031&bih=592&scr_x=0&scr_y=300&eid=44759876%2C44759927%2C44759837%2C31086863%2C44795921%2C95331689%2C95338228%2C95341662%2C95342032&oid=2&psts=AOrYGsmf74lC_o21lLWT-y8JkPdukEJjdEVLTcFNTTiI2MZtQZOn7gm9fqBXJQ204LPhK5TyyxqB7RJhCBpYrWpEH-d-pg%2CAOrYGslm7CZaHYJzHMUmoGvGJvYYp6CdXPnY5Kqrg8UwXSl9jtcaAW2FWR21z4RRl7V_999Rm6DuOU4vb3WsX2AqBwh4lOA%2CAOrYGsn1iALXUthP_uepeflxfYJ3mJhDDjEuRc4KMfVMdd9wGa9hfSH_6kGIKr7cb7_mBUbdcC5gbV6sbGZ2HwBUV2-sNAY&pvsid=1127631096421780&tmod=632698115&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fl.facebook.com%2F&fc=1408&brdim=147%2C16%2C147%2C16%2C1360%2C0%2C1064%2C712%2C1048%2C592&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&bz=1.02&psd=W251bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLDNd&ifi=5&uci=a!5&btvi=3&fsb=1&dtd=11228
“You’ll just end up taking my things with you,” I replied. “I need to sort out my own stuff first.”
“Fine,” he said.
But things only got worse. The emotional stress left me feeling constantly nauseous and uneasy. So, I decided to spend the weekend at my parents’ house to clear my head.
“Yeah, run away to your parents,” Brendan sneered as I packed an overnight bag.
https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?gdpr=0&us_privacy=1—&gpp_sid=-1&client=ca-pub-1773658762833587&output=html&h=280&adk=1030787214&adf=1527610060&pi=t.aa~a.95137260~i.33~rp.4&w=622&abgtt=7&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1725902308&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=1191565633&ad_type=text_image&format=622×280&url=https%3A%2F%2Fjokesdaddy.com%2Fi-returned-home-to-find-my-furniture-on-the-curb-my-exs-revenge-was-a-total-flop%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwY2xjawFMDSVleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHYAHkHko4VBJwIKgo-i2YcTNliNhvQJKX2gLUYIJeKwHrdqYp9JbH7Enog_aem_8Tw_lJmy-8mQGSYVjGHsWg&host=ca-host-pub-2644536267352236&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=156&rw=622&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMC4zLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDkuMC41NDE0LjE2OCIsbnVsbCwwLG51bGwsIjY0IixbWyJOb3RfQSBCcmFuZCIsIjk5LjAuMC4wIl0sWyJHb29nbGUgQ2hyb21lIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXSxbIkNocm9taXVtIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXV0sMF0.&dt=1725902294129&bpp=2&bdt=1503&idt=2&shv=r20240904&mjsv=m202409040101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3Da1918bbb8764ee47%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MaZVumXXHZ_r8ay8rIc_wLHZkNFRA&gpic=UID%3D00000de8294ca1d6%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MYK6Nwd1vVe2KMyk5-RmsEA7W_MdQ&eo_id_str=ID%3D416b984e50de4687%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DAA-AfjaIy_YNLEGxhgDI–Ucx1la&prev_fmts=0x0%2C980x280%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C1031x592%2C622x280&nras=7&correlator=1544306263510&frm=20&pv=1&u_tz=420&u_his=2&u_h=768&u_w=1360&u_ah=728&u_aw=1360&u_cd=24&u_sd=1&dmc=8&adx=46&ady=3165&biw=1031&bih=592&scr_x=0&scr_y=800&eid=44759876%2C44759927%2C44759837%2C31086863%2C44795921%2C95331689%2C95338228%2C95341662%2C95342032&oid=2&psts=AOrYGsmf74lC_o21lLWT-y8JkPdukEJjdEVLTcFNTTiI2MZtQZOn7gm9fqBXJQ204LPhK5TyyxqB7RJhCBpYrWpEH-d-pg%2CAOrYGslm7CZaHYJzHMUmoGvGJvYYp6CdXPnY5Kqrg8UwXSl9jtcaAW2FWR21z4RRl7V_999Rm6DuOU4vb3WsX2AqBwh4lOA%2CAOrYGsn1iALXUthP_uepeflxfYJ3mJhDDjEuRc4KMfVMdd9wGa9hfSH_6kGIKr7cb7_mBUbdcC5gbV6sbGZ2HwBUV2-sNAY&pvsid=1127631096421780&tmod=632698115&uas=1&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fl.facebook.com%2F&fc=1408&brdim=147%2C16%2C147%2C16%2C1360%2C0%2C1064%2C712%2C1048%2C592&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&bz=1.02&psd=W251bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLDNd&ifi=6&uci=a!6&btvi=4&fsb=1&dtd=14067
“They’re better than you,” I said, walking out the door.
And honestly? It was the right choice. I needed space to process everything, especially the fact that I was going to be on my own for the first time in twelve years. Even though Brendan and I needed to be apart, I couldn’t see my future clearly.
I also just wanted my parents to take care of me for the weekend.
https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?gdpr=0&us_privacy=1—&gpp_sid=-1&client=ca-pub-1773658762833587&output=html&h=280&adk=1030787214&adf=1586282284&pi=t.aa~a.95137260~i.41~rp.4&w=622&abgtt=7&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1725902319&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=1191565633&ad_type=text_image&format=622×280&url=https%3A%2F%2Fjokesdaddy.com%2Fi-returned-home-to-find-my-furniture-on-the-curb-my-exs-revenge-was-a-total-flop%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwY2xjawFMDSVleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHYAHkHko4VBJwIKgo-i2YcTNliNhvQJKX2gLUYIJeKwHrdqYp9JbH7Enog_aem_8Tw_lJmy-8mQGSYVjGHsWg&host=ca-host-pub-2644536267352236&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=156&rw=622&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMC4zLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDkuMC41NDE0LjE2OCIsbnVsbCwwLG51bGwsIjY0IixbWyJOb3RfQSBCcmFuZCIsIjk5LjAuMC4wIl0sWyJHb29nbGUgQ2hyb21lIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXSxbIkNocm9taXVtIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXV0sMF0.&dt=1725902294136&bpp=1&bdt=1510&idt=1&shv=r20240904&mjsv=m202409040101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3Da1918bbb8764ee47%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MaZVumXXHZ_r8ay8rIc_wLHZkNFRA&gpic=UID%3D00000de8294ca1d6%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MYK6Nwd1vVe2KMyk5-RmsEA7W_MdQ&eo_id_str=ID%3D416b984e50de4687%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DAA-AfjaIy_YNLEGxhgDI–Ucx1la&prev_fmts=0x0%2C980x280%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C1031x592%2C622x280%2C622x280&nras=8&correlator=1544306263510&frm=20&pv=1&u_tz=420&u_his=2&u_h=768&u_w=1360&u_ah=728&u_aw=1360&u_cd=24&u_sd=1&dmc=8&adx=46&ady=3674&biw=1031&bih=592&scr_x=0&scr_y=1400&eid=44759876%2C44759927%2C44759837%2C31086863%2C44795921%2C95331689%2C95338228%2C95341662%2C95342032&oid=2&psts=AOrYGsmf74lC_o21lLWT-y8JkPdukEJjdEVLTcFNTTiI2MZtQZOn7gm9fqBXJQ204LPhK5TyyxqB7RJhCBpYrWpEH-d-pg%2CAOrYGslm7CZaHYJzHMUmoGvGJvYYp6CdXPnY5Kqrg8UwXSl9jtcaAW2FWR21z4RRl7V_999Rm6DuOU4vb3WsX2AqBwh4lOA%2CAOrYGsn1iALXUthP_uepeflxfYJ3mJhDDjEuRc4KMfVMdd9wGa9hfSH_6kGIKr7cb7_mBUbdcC5gbV6sbGZ2HwBUV2-sNAY&pvsid=1127631096421780&tmod=632698115&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fl.facebook.com%2F&fc=1408&brdim=147%2C16%2C147%2C16%2C1360%2C0%2C1064%2C712%2C1048%2C592&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&bz=1.02&psd=W251bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLDNd&ifi=7&uci=a!7&btvi=5&fsb=1&dtd=25709
“Oh, Gina,” my mother said as she took out a tray of delicious roast lamb. “All you need to do is eat and rest. Whatever you want to eat, just tell me and I’ll make it. And if you need anything from the store, just tell Dad. He’ll make a quick run for you.”
I took a deep breath. I was exactly where I needed to be.
“Are you sure a divorce is the right choice?” my father asked me during dinner.
https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?gdpr=0&us_privacy=1—&gpp_sid=-1&client=ca-pub-1773658762833587&output=html&h=280&adk=1030787214&adf=2314894532&pi=t.aa~a.95137260~i.49~rp.4&w=622&abgtt=7&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1725902326&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=1191565633&ad_type=text_image&format=622×280&url=https%3A%2F%2Fjokesdaddy.com%2Fi-returned-home-to-find-my-furniture-on-the-curb-my-exs-revenge-was-a-total-flop%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwY2xjawFMDSVleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHYAHkHko4VBJwIKgo-i2YcTNliNhvQJKX2gLUYIJeKwHrdqYp9JbH7Enog_aem_8Tw_lJmy-8mQGSYVjGHsWg&host=ca-host-pub-2644536267352236&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=156&rw=622&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMC4zLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDkuMC41NDE0LjE2OCIsbnVsbCwwLG51bGwsIjY0IixbWyJOb3RfQSBCcmFuZCIsIjk5LjAuMC4wIl0sWyJHb29nbGUgQ2hyb21lIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXSxbIkNocm9taXVtIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXV0sMF0.&dt=1725902294141&bpp=2&bdt=1514&idt=2&shv=r20240904&mjsv=m202409040101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3Da1918bbb8764ee47%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MaZVumXXHZ_r8ay8rIc_wLHZkNFRA&gpic=UID%3D00000de8294ca1d6%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MYK6Nwd1vVe2KMyk5-RmsEA7W_MdQ&eo_id_str=ID%3D416b984e50de4687%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DAA-AfjaIy_YNLEGxhgDI–Ucx1la&prev_fmts=0x0%2C980x280%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C1031x592%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C622x280&nras=9&correlator=1544306263510&frm=20&pv=1&u_tz=420&u_his=2&u_h=768&u_w=1360&u_ah=728&u_aw=1360&u_cd=24&u_sd=1&dmc=8&adx=46&ady=4182&biw=1031&bih=592&scr_x=0&scr_y=1900&eid=44759876%2C44759927%2C44759837%2C31086863%2C44795921%2C95331689%2C95338228%2C95341662%2C95342032&oid=2&psts=AOrYGsmf74lC_o21lLWT-y8JkPdukEJjdEVLTcFNTTiI2MZtQZOn7gm9fqBXJQ204LPhK5TyyxqB7RJhCBpYrWpEH-d-pg%2CAOrYGslm7CZaHYJzHMUmoGvGJvYYp6CdXPnY5Kqrg8UwXSl9jtcaAW2FWR21z4RRl7V_999Rm6DuOU4vb3WsX2AqBwh4lOA%2CAOrYGsn1iALXUthP_uepeflxfYJ3mJhDDjEuRc4KMfVMdd9wGa9hfSH_6kGIKr7cb7_mBUbdcC5gbV6sbGZ2HwBUV2-sNAY&pvsid=1127631096421780&tmod=632698115&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fl.facebook.com%2F&fc=1408&brdim=147%2C16%2C147%2C16%2C1360%2C0%2C1064%2C712%2C1048%2C592&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&bz=1.02&psd=W251bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLDNd&ifi=8&uci=a!8&btvi=6&fsb=1&dtd=32261
“Yes,” I said with a heavy heart. “If there was ever a chance for us to fix things, it was a long time ago. We’ve missed that chance. Brendan and I just don’t see things the same way anymore. I don’t think there’s any love left between us.”
“You do what you need to do, honey,” my mother said. “If your mental health is telling you that you need a fresh start, then that’s what you should go for.”
I took her advice to heart and spent my time taking long walks with Pippy, my parents’ dog. I needed to clear my head and give myself the space to breathe.
https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?gdpr=0&us_privacy=1—&gpp_sid=-1&client=ca-pub-1773658762833587&output=html&h=280&adk=1030787214&adf=44561737&pi=t.aa~a.95137260~i.57~rp.4&w=622&abgtt=7&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1725902328&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=1191565633&ad_type=text_image&format=622×280&url=https%3A%2F%2Fjokesdaddy.com%2Fi-returned-home-to-find-my-furniture-on-the-curb-my-exs-revenge-was-a-total-flop%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwY2xjawFMDSVleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHYAHkHko4VBJwIKgo-i2YcTNliNhvQJKX2gLUYIJeKwHrdqYp9JbH7Enog_aem_8Tw_lJmy-8mQGSYVjGHsWg&host=ca-host-pub-2644536267352236&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=156&rw=622&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMC4zLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDkuMC41NDE0LjE2OCIsbnVsbCwwLG51bGwsIjY0IixbWyJOb3RfQSBCcmFuZCIsIjk5LjAuMC4wIl0sWyJHb29nbGUgQ2hyb21lIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXSxbIkNocm9taXVtIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXV0sMF0.&dt=1725902294148&bpp=1&bdt=1522&idt=2&shv=r20240904&mjsv=m202409040101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3Da1918bbb8764ee47%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MaZVumXXHZ_r8ay8rIc_wLHZkNFRA&gpic=UID%3D00000de8294ca1d6%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MYK6Nwd1vVe2KMyk5-RmsEA7W_MdQ&eo_id_str=ID%3D416b984e50de4687%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DAA-AfjaIy_YNLEGxhgDI–Ucx1la&prev_fmts=0x0%2C980x280%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C1031x592%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C622x280&nras=10&correlator=1544306263510&frm=20&pv=1&u_tz=420&u_his=2&u_h=768&u_w=1360&u_ah=728&u_aw=1360&u_cd=24&u_sd=1&dmc=8&adx=46&ady=4736&biw=1031&bih=592&scr_x=0&scr_y=2400&eid=44759876%2C44759927%2C44759837%2C31086863%2C44795921%2C95331689%2C95338228%2C95341662%2C95342032&oid=2&psts=AOrYGsmf74lC_o21lLWT-y8JkPdukEJjdEVLTcFNTTiI2MZtQZOn7gm9fqBXJQ204LPhK5TyyxqB7RJhCBpYrWpEH-d-pg%2CAOrYGslm7CZaHYJzHMUmoGvGJvYYp6CdXPnY5Kqrg8UwXSl9jtcaAW2FWR21z4RRl7V_999Rm6DuOU4vb3WsX2AqBwh4lOA%2CAOrYGsn1iALXUthP_uepeflxfYJ3mJhDDjEuRc4KMfVMdd9wGa9hfSH_6kGIKr7cb7_mBUbdcC5gbV6sbGZ2HwBUV2-sNAY&pvsid=1127631096421780&tmod=632698115&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fl.facebook.com%2F&fc=1408&brdim=147%2C16%2C147%2C16%2C1360%2C0%2C1064%2C712%2C1048%2C592&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&bz=1.02&psd=W251bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLDNd&ifi=9&uci=a!9&btvi=7&fsb=1&dtd=34664
“You’re making the right choice,” I reassured myself. “There’s nothing wrong with starting over.”
When I got home on Monday morning, expecting to find Brendan and his things gone, I was met with a shock.
My entire collection of furniture, from before and during our marriage, was spread all over the lawn. A huge hand-painted sign that said “Free Stuff!” was proudly displayed, inviting anyone passing by to take whatever they wanted.
“What on earth is this?” I muttered, slamming the car door.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My coffee table, the flea market couch, and even my grandmother’s old rocking chair were all out on the lawn, baking in the sun and waiting to be taken by anyone who passed by.
I kicked the sign down so it lay flat and pulled out my phone, my hands shaking as I dialed Brendan. After three rings, he finally answered.
“Hey, what’s up, Gina?” he answered, sounding casual, almost smug.
“What’s up?” I echoed. “What’s up?”
“Yeah, that’s what I asked,” he said.
“Are you kidding me? Why is all my furniture on the lawn? Are you absolutely out of your mind?”
There was a pause before he replied.
“You were going to sue for all my money anyway,” he said. “I heard you on the phone with someone. I know you wanted everything, or at least half of it! So you might as well know how it feels to lose what’s yours.”
I was speechless.
Sure, I had thought about taking him for a ride and getting my share of his money, but the weekend away with my parents had taught me to let it go.
“You’re absolutely unbelievable,” I finally managed to say. “You think this is going to solve anything? You’re just making things worse for yourself.”
He scoffed loudly.
“Whatever. It’s your problem now. Maybe you should charge people for your things instead of letting them take it for free.”
I wanted to scream, but I knew it wouldn’t help. Brendan had made up his mind, and like any dog with a bone, there was no reasoning with him.
I crouched down and opened the drawer, where I found a small, velvet pouch. As I opened it, my heart raced. Inside was a stunning gold necklace with a large diamond pendant—one that Brendan had always bragged about but claimed was lost.
I couldn’t believe my luck. Brendan’s petty move had actually handed me a priceless item. I smiled despite everything.
I took a deep breath, feeling a spark of satisfaction. This necklace, once a symbol of Brendan’s arrogance, was now mine. I packed it away carefully, deciding it would be my little piece of revenge.
Seeing the family heirloom tucked away in the drawer, a smirk crept onto my face despite my anger. Brendan’s father’s watch, a cherished piece that he rarely wore, was now in my hands.
“Stupid Brendan,” I muttered under my breath. He’d clearly overlooked this valuable item in his hasty revenge.
I carefully wrapped the watch and tucked it into my bag alongside the necklace. As much as the whole situation had been frustrating, it felt good to have something of value—something Brendan truly cared about—as a small victory in this mess.
As I slipped Brendan’s watch into my pocket, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph. “Checkmate,” I said to myself, a small smile on my face. He had left it out there for anyone to take, and I wasn’t about to let this opportunity go to waste.
Next, I quickly texted my friends, asking for help to move everything back into the house. Their support would be crucial in getting my belongings back inside safely.
“Brendan is the worst, Gina,” my friend Jenny said, carrying a lamp. “This is a new low.”
“Yeah, I agree with you there,” I replied. “But don’t worry, I’ve got a way to get back at him.”
I explained to Jenny about the watch and how I had it safely tucked away in my car. I was sure Brendan would eventually notice it was missing, and I was ready to use it as a bargaining chip.
“Look, the neighbors came over and took a few things. The bedside tables are gone too. But if you’re polite enough, I’m sure Cathy will sell them back to you.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
“Gina, it’s my dad’s watch. My granddad’s watch. I really need it back.”
I let the silence stretch for a moment before responding.
“I see. Well, like I said, it’s with Cathy. But I’m sure she’ll be reasonable. You know, for the right price.”
I nodded and said, “Thanks. You can leave now.”
“I’ll get in touch with you about the divorce. My lawyer has some things to discuss with us,” he replied.
“Cool,” I said simply.
Brendan did a double-take, then took the watch from me and walked away slowly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
My Mother-in-Law Moved in with Us After Her House Was Flooded – I Was Shocked When I Overheard Her True Reason for Staying
I blinked. Flooding? That didn’t sound right. She lived in a freshly renovated house, nothing but top-tier everything. I hadn’t heard a single complaint about it until now.
Before I could even begin to process, Joe appeared behind me. He looked guilty, eyes darting anywhere but at me. “Yeah… about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly shifting his weight. “Mom’s gonna stay with us for a bit. Just until the house gets fixed.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” I asked, my glare piercing.
He shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s only for a little while, babe. You and Mom get along, right?”
Get along? If by “get along,” he meant the passive-aggressive remarks about how we’d been married for six years and still hadn’t given her any grandkids, then sure. We were best friends. But I plastered on a smile, the kind you give when you’re two seconds away from snapping. “Of course. I totally understand.”
Hours later, after I’d pretended everything was fine, I got up for some water. As I passed the kitchen, I heard them talking in hushed voices.
“You didn’t tell her the real reason, did you?” Jane’s voice was sharp, like a knife slicing through the night.
Joe sighed. “No, Mom. I didn’t.”
“Well,” Jane huffed, “I’m here to keep an eye on things. Married this long with no children… someone’s got to figure out what’s going on. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”
My stomach twisted. This wasn’t about pipes. She was here to snoop. To pressure me about kids. To “handle” me. I stood frozen in the hallway, blood boiling. What the hell had I just walked into?
The next morning, I woke up with a plan. If Jane wanted to play her little game, I’d play mine. But I wasn’t going to get into a battle of wits with her. No, I was going to kill her with kindness. By 8 a.m., I had already started phase one of my “operation.”
I cleared out our entire master bedroom. Every piece of clothing, every picture frame, every trace of Joe and me was stuffed into the tiny guest room. I even found Jane’s favorite floral bedspread from the back of the linen closet and spread it over the bed like I was preparing a five-star hotel suite.
When I was done, I stood in the doorway, surveying my work. The bedspread was pristine, her cat pictures were lined up on the dresser, and to top it off, I made a “Welcome to Your New Home” basket. Bath bombs, lavender-scented candles, fancy chocolates.
By the time Joe got home from work, I was already sitting in the cramped guest room, arranging our clothes into whatever space I could find. He walked in, his forehead creased with confusion. “Why are you in here?” He peeked around the corner. “Where’s our stuff?”
“Oh, I moved everything,” I said, turning to him with the sweetest smile I could muster. “Your mom deserves the master bedroom, don’t you think? It’s only fair. She needs the space more than we do.”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “You… gave her our bedroom?”
“Of course,” I said with a grin. “She’s family, after all. We’ll be just fine in here.”
Joe stood there, mouth half open, processing what I’d done. But what could he say? Jane was his mother, and I wasn’t technically doing anything wrong. He sighed and walked out of the room without another word.
For the next few days, I made sure Jane was living like royalty. Fresh towels every morning, little snacks placed on the nightstand, and those lavender candles I knew she loved.
She wandered around the house like she owned the place, smiling at me like she’d won. But while Jane was lounging in luxury, Joe was starting to crack. Sharing the guest room was driving him nuts. Not just the lack of space, but his mom’s new obsession with prepping him for fatherhood.
Every morning, without fail, she’d hand him a schedule of vitamins.
“You need to take these, Joe,” she’d say, thrusting a multivitamin at him. “It’s important to get your body ready if you want healthy kids.”
Joe would roll his eyes but take the pills just to keep her quiet.
It didn’t stop there. “Should you really be watching TV at night?” she’d ask over dinner. “That’s not very baby-friendly. You should be reading parenting books. Or exercising. And no more video games! You need to mature, Joe. Fatherhood is serious.”
By day four, I found Joe sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at a stack of parenting books his mom had ordered online.
“I think I’m losing it,” he muttered, holding up a book titled “What To Expect When You’re Expecting.” “She expects me to read this.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Well, Joe,” I said, suppressing a laugh, “you did say we’d be just fine, didn’t you?”
It was relentless. Jane had taken things up a notch. One evening, she handed Joe a neatly typed list of “fertility-boosting” foods. Kale, quinoa, grilled salmon—no more burgers, no more pizza. She smiled sweetly as if she was doing him the world’s greatest favor.
“Your future kids will thank you,” she chirped.
Joe stared at the list like it was a death sentence. “Wait, no pizza? Ever?”
“That’s right, dear,” she said, patting his shoulder. “I’ve planned all your meals for the week. You’ll feel so much better once you start eating clean.”
That night at dinner, we sat around the table eating dry salmon and tasteless kale. Jane watched Joe like a hawk, her eyes flicking from his plate to his face. He shifted uncomfortably, picking at his food.
“Joe,” she started, “did you take your vitamins this morning?”
He sighed, stabbing a fork into the kale. “Yeah, Mom. I took them.”
“And what about the gym? Did you make time for that? You know, you’ve put on a little weight. It’s important to be in shape if you want to be a good father.”
I couldn’t help it. I kicked him under the table to stop myself from bursting out laughing. He shot me a look, his expression torn between frustration and desperation. After days of this, it was finally getting to him.
Later that night, once Jane had gone to bed, Joe turned to me, rubbing his temples. His voice was low, almost pleading. “I can’t do this anymore, Tiana. The guest room, the vitamins, the baby talk… I’m going insane.”
I bit my lip, trying to suppress a smile. “You have to admit,” I said, failing to keep the amusement out of my voice, “it’s kind of funny.”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s not funny.”
I let out a small laugh. “Okay, okay, it’s a little funny.”
Joe groaned and collapsed onto the bed. “I booked her a room at the hotel down the street. I can’t take another day of this.”
The next morning, he broke the news at breakfast.
“Mom, I’ve booked you a nice hotel nearby until the repairs at your house are done. You’ll be much more comfortable there.”
She blinked, clearly surprised. “But I’m perfectly fine here! And besides, isn’t it time you two got serious about giving me grandkids?”
Joe’s jaw clenched. “Mom, we’ll decide that when we’re ready. For now, the hotel is best for everyone.”
For a moment, Jane just stared at him. Then, realizing she had no leg to stand on, she reluctantly nodded. “Well… if you insist.”
By the end of the day, she was gone. The house was ours again.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Joe collapsed onto the couch with a dramatic sigh of relief. “Finally.”
I grinned, sinking down beside him. “So… kale for dinner?”
He groaned. “Never again.”
Leave a Reply