A husband, after spending 17 years in marriage with Inna, decided to leave her for a young student, but he did not expect that his wife would give him a farewell

Inna stood by the window, watching as raindrops distributed the glass, forming whimsical patterns. Seventeen years – is that a lot or a little? She remembered every day of their marriage, every anniversary, every gifts. And now everything becomes collapsed.

“We need to talk,” Alexey said.

“I’m leaving, Inna. To Natasha.”

Silence. Only the ticking of the old wall clock, once gifted by his mother, broke the calmness of the room.

“To the student from your faculty?” Her voice sounded surprisingly calm.

“Yes. Understand, my feelings have changed. I want new emotions, fresh impressions. You’re a smart woman, you should understand.”

Inna smiled.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” Alexey said. “I’ve already packed my things.”

Then she approached the cupboard and recovered that special bottle they had kept for a special occasion.

For illustrative purpose only

“Well, I suppose this is a rather special moment,” she began to open the bottle. “You know, I propose we have a farewell dinner. Invite your friends, your relatives. After all, seventeen years is no joke.”

Alexey surprisingly said:

“You… you want to throw a party for our divorce?”

“Why not?” Inna smiled. “Let’s send our life together off in style. After all, I really am a smart woman, remember?”

She began to send messages to relatives and friends.

“Tomorrow at seven in the evening. I’ll prepare your favorite dishes. Consider it my farewell gift.”

Alexey stood there, not knowing what to say. He had predicted tears, nervousness, reproaches – anything but this calm acceptance.

“And yes, tell Natasha that she’s invited too. I want to meet the girl who managed to do what I couldn’t all these years – ignite a new spark in you.”

The next day began awfully early for Inna.

She carefully called banks, met with a lawyer, and prepared documents. Every action was prapared.

By the evening, their spacious apartment was full of the aromas of exquisite dishes. Inna set the table, organizing the finest dinnerware – a wedding gift from her mother-in-law.

“Everything must be perfect,” she muttered.

For illustrative purpose only

His mother, Vera Pavlovna, awkwardly grasped her daughter-in-law:

“Innochka, maybe there’s still a chance to change everything?”

“No, Mama. Sometimes you have to make the right choice and let go.”

Gradually, their friends started arriving.

“Come in, have a seat,” Inna directed them to the head of the table. “Tonight, you are the main characters of the evening.”

Once everyone was seated, Inna stood up, holding a glass:

“Dear friends! Today is a special day. We are gathered here to celebrate the end of one story and the beginning of another.”

She turned to Alexey:

“Lesha, I want to thank you for seventeen years together. For all the ups and downs, for the joys and sorrows we shared. You taught me many things. For example, that love can be very different.”

An awkwardwhisper ran through the room. Natasha played with a napkin, avoiding eye contact.

“And you also taught me to be attentive to details,” Inna continued. “Especially financial ones.”

She began laying out documents:

For illustrative purpose only

“Here’s the loan for your car, taken out on our joint account. Here are the tax arrears for your company. And this – particularly interesting – are the receipts from restaurants and jewelry stores over the past year. I suppose you were trying to impress Natasha?”

Alexey became pallid. Natasha abruptly lifted her head.

“But the most important thing,” Inna said as she retrieved the final document, “is our prenuptial agreement. Remember, you signed it without reading? There’s an interesting clause about dividing property in case of infidelity.”

The silence in the room became booming. 

“The house is in my name,” Inna continued. “I’ve already blocked the accounts. And the divorce petition was filed last night.”

She turned to Natasha:

“Dear, are you sure you’re ready to tie your life to someone who has neither a home nor savings, but instead has considerable debts?”

“Excuse me, I need to leave,” Natasha said softly.

Vera Pavlovna refused:

“Lesha, how could you? We raised you differently.”

“Mama, you don’t understand…” Alexey began, but was disturbed by his father:

“No, son, you don’t understand. Seventeen years is no joke. And what did you destr0y it all for? For an af:fair with a student?”

The friends at the table remained soundless, avoiding each other’s gaze. Only Mikhail, Alexey’s best friend since school, quietly said loud:

“Lesha, you really screwed up.”

Inna continued standing, holding her glass.

“You know what’s the most interesting? All these years I believed that our love was unique. That we were like those old couples from beautiful stories who stayed together until the end. I turned a blind eye to your work delays, your strange phone calls, your new ties and shirts.”

She took a sip:

For illustrative purpose only

“And then I started spotting the receipts. Jewelry store, restaurant ‘White Swan’, spa salon… Funny, isn’t it? You were taking her to the same places where you once took me.”

Natasha returned but did not sit at the table. She stood in the doorway, clutching her purse:

“Alexey Nikolaevich, I think we need to talk. Alone.”

“Of course, dear,” he got up, but Inna stopped him with a gesture:

“Wait. I’m not finished yet. Remember our first apartment? That one-bedroom on the outskirts? We were so happy there. You said we needed nothing but each other.”

She smiled:

“And now look at you. Expensive suits, a fancy car, a young mistress… Only, here’s the catch – all of it was built on lies and debts.”

Natasha’s voice trembled, “you said we were divorced. That we lived separately. That you were going to buy us an apartment.”

“Natashenka, I’ll explain everything.”

A ringing silence tumbled the room.

Without saying a word, Natasha turned and ran out of the apartment. T

“Inna,” Alexey clutched his head, “why are you doing this?”

“Why?” she laughed.“How did you expect it to be? For me to cry, beg you to stay? To roll around at your feet?”

She scanned the room:

“You know what’s the most amusing? I truly loved him. Every wrinkle, every gray hair. Even his snoring at night seemed endearing to me. I was ready to grow old with him, to raise grandchildren.”

“Dear,” Vera Pavlovna whispered, “maybe it’s not worth it.”

“No, Mama, it is,” Inna raised her voice for the first time that evening. “Let everyone know. Let them know how your son took out loans for gifts for his mistresses. How he used our shared money. How he lied to me, to you, to everyone!”

She published another document:

For illustrative purpose only

“And this is especially interesting. Remember, Lesha, three months ago you asked me to sign some papers? You said it was for the tax office? It turned out to be a guarantee for a loan. You mortgaged my car, can you believe it?”

“Son,” Alexey’s father said heavily as he rose, “we’ll probably leave too. Call when… when you come to your senses.”

Vera Pavlovna grasped Inna:

“Forgive us, dear. We never thought he…”

“Don’t apologize, Mama. You have nothing to do with this.”

Alexey sat there. His expensive suit now seemed like a silly masquerade costume.

“You know, I could have done a month ago when I found out everything. I could have bought your car, torn up your suits, had a meltdown at your workplace.” Inna said.

“But I decided to do it differently,” she said.

“I’m flying out tomorrow. The Maldives, can you imagine? I’ve always dreamed of visiting there, but you always said it was a waste of money.”

She put the keys on the table:

“The apartment must be bought by the end of the week. I’m selling it. And yes, don’t even try to withdraw money from the accounts.”

Alexey looked at her with a sad expression:

For illustrative purpose only

“What am I supposed to do now?”

“That’s no longer my problem,” she said

“You know what’s the funniest part? I’m truly grateful to you. You made me wake up, shake off the dust. I suddenly realized that life doesn’t end with you.”

She walked to the door and turned around one last time:

“Goodbye, Lesha. I hope it was worth it.”

The door closed quietly. Alexey was left alone in the hollow apartment. Inna began a new trip which marked a first step of her new life.

My Kids’ Grandmom Came to Our Home, Packed the Christmas Presents She Gave Them & Took Them Away

When Rebecca’s mother-in-law, Darlene, goes home to take away her grandchildren’s Christmas presents, she’s left absolutely speechless. Later, she and her husband, Mark, learn that Darlene did this because she wanted to teach the couple a lesson… but karma intervenes, making sure that the old woman feels the same way the kids felt.

I never thought that this would be a story I’d tell. I mean, toxic in-laws are practically their own genre, but what my mother-in-law, Darlene, did this Christmas left me completely speechless.

Honestly, I’m still in shock.

A woman looking to the side | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking to the side | Source: Midjourney

I’m Rebecca, a mom of three chaotic kids. There’s Caleb (7), Sadie (5), and little Mason (3). Christmas is a huge deal in our house and has been like this since I was a child. We go all out.

The tree, the decorations, and of course, the gifts. Usually, Darlene shows up with her arms full of presents for the kids, playing the part of the doting grandma for one day a year.

This time, though, Darlene really outdid herself. Caleb got the new LEGO set that he had been begging for, and Sadie’s eyes lit up over a princess castle playset. Mason, the little speed demon of the family, zoomed through the living room on an adorable ride-on toy.

A castle made out of LEGO blocks | Source: Midjourney

A castle made out of LEGO blocks | Source: Midjourney

She even threw in stylish clothes for all three kids.

“They need to be photo-ready, Becca,” she told me. “And this way, they all match!”

It was… impressive. I’ll admit it freely.

The kids were ecstatic. They loved being the center of attention, and they played nonstop, showing off their gifts and parading around in their new clothes.

Three little kids | Source: Midjourney

Three little kids | Source: Midjourney

I thought that maybe this was the year. This was the year that Darlene and I would finally hit a smooth patch in our relationship.

Spoiler alert: I was so wrong.

Two days after Christmas, the house was still glowing with holiday cheer. It wasn’t anything new—we usually kept the decorations up until a few days before New Year’s Eve. My kids were in their element, surrounded by the toys they loved.

I even sent Darlene a text, thanking her for the thoughtful presents.

A woman texting | Source: Midjourney

A woman texting | Source: Midjourney

Hi, Darlene! Thank you for spoiling the babies so much this Christmas. You’re appreciated!

Then, the doorbell rang.

“Mom, will you get it?” Caleb asked, dangling a bunch of grapes above Mason’s head.

“On it,” I said. “Just watch that your brother doesn’t choke on a grape, okay?”

I opened the door to find Darlene standing there, gripping three large empty bags. Her face was bright red, and she looked ready to explode.

A little boy holding a bunch of grapes | Source: Midjourney

A little boy holding a bunch of grapes | Source: Midjourney

“Darlene, hi!” I said. “What’s going on?”

She didn’t say a word. She just marched right past me into the living room, where the kids were now playing with Sadie’s castle.

I stood frozen as she immediately began to scoop Caleb’s LEGO blocks into one of the bags. The ride-on toy was kicked to the side. And then Sadie’s castle went next.

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

“Where are the clothes I bought you?” she barked at Caleb.

“In the washing, Grandma,” he said.

“Bring it, now,” she shouted.

I was too shocked to retaliate.

Caleb ran to the bathroom and back with the clothes in his arms.

A washing basket | Source: Midjourney

A washing basket | Source: Midjourney

“Grandma, what are you doing?” Caleb asked, his voice trembling.

Sadie’s lip quivered as she clutched her princess doll.

“Mommy, why is Grandma taking our things?” she asked.

I didn’t have an answer. I just stood there, my mind spinning, trying to process what I was witnessing.

An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney

But it was when Darlene picked up the ride-on toy, preventing Mason from getting onto it, that really set me off.

“Darlene, what the hell are you doing?” I demanded, finding my voice at last.

She didn’t even glance my way.

“You’ll regret what you did,” she muttered coldly, zipping the bags shut with finality.

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney

And then, without another word, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

The kids were devastated. Caleb cried for hours, asking why Grandma was mad. Sadie sat on the floor, clutching a stuffed animal like her world had just ended. And poor Mason kept wandering around the house, looking for his toy.

“Where did the car go, Mommy?” he asked.

An upset little boy | Source: Midjourney

An upset little boy | Source: Midjourney

I tried to comfort my children, but honestly, I didn’t know what to say. What had we done to deserve this? Why would Darlene take back the gifts she’d so generously given just a few days earlier?

When my husband, Mark, got home from work, I told him everything.

“She did what?” Mark’s face went beet red as he pulled out his phone. “Oh, hell no. This is unacceptable.”

He called her immediately. There was no answer. He texted his mother. No replies.

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t understand, Bec,” he said. “How could she be so cold to take their toys away? And their clothes, for God’s sake. I’m so confused.”

“Tell me about it,” I said. “I didn’t know how to react when she stormed around doing whatever she wanted. It was insanity. You should have seen their faces, Mark.”

Darlene had gone completely radio silent, leaving us in the dark about what had triggered this insane stunt.

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

Three days later, Mark finally got her on the phone.

I could tell from his side of the conversation that whatever she was saying was absurd. He kept rubbing his temples and muttering under his breath.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he sighed.

When he hung up, he looked at me with disbelief.

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

“You’ll never believe it,” he said.

“What? Believe what?” I asked.

“She’s mad about her Christmas gift,” he said.

“What?” I repeated.

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

“Apparently, she was expecting that expensive designer handbag she’s been hinting about all year. Instead, we got her a $250 gift card to her favorite store. It was unacceptable, according to her.”

I stared at my husband, completely lost for words.

“So, she took away the kids’ gifts because of that? What on earth is wrong with her?”

A store gift card | Source: Midjourney

A store gift card | Source: Midjourney

Mark nodded slowly, still processing the absurdity himself.

“Yeah, she said that we disrespected her with the gift card and gave us a few days to make it right. Since we didn’t, she took the kids’ presents to teach us a lesson.”

I was floored.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Mark,” I said.

A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

“Nope,” he sighed again. “She took the kids’ Christmas gifts away over a damn handbag.”

We were furious, but we weren’t about to let Darlene’s tantrum ruin Christmas for our kids. That weekend, we dipped into our savings and bought replacements for the toys she took.

It wasn’t easy on our budget, but seeing the kids’ faces light up again made every penny worth it.

But Darlene?

Three smiling children | Source: Midjourney

Three smiling children | Source: Midjourney

Karma had other plans for the old woman.

A few days later, Mark’s cousin, Abby, called with some unexpected news.

I was in the kitchen, grilling chicken and vegetables for dinner, while Mark was going through Caleb’s holiday homework.

“Did you hear what your mom did?” she asked, practically choking with laughter.

A platter of grilled chicken and vegetables | Source: Midjourney

A platter of grilled chicken and vegetables | Source: Midjourney

“Oh yeah,” Mark muttered. “We know all about her behavior. Why’s it funny to you?”

“Well, apparently, she’s been bragging to the family about how she taught you guys a lesson. But one of her friends, the one who’s super involved with that charity, found out.”

“Charity? Abby, what are you talking about?” Mark asked.

“Uh-oh,” I said, uncertain of where the conversation was going.

A woman talking on the phone and laughing | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone and laughing | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah, so her friend was horrified at what Darlene did. The things that she took from the kids? She donated them to a charity. Dirty clothes and all! Word has spread fast, and now people are distancing themselves from her. Big time.”

Mark raised an eyebrow and looked at me.

“So, what? People are icing her out?”

Donation boxes at a charity shelter | Source: Midjourney

Donation boxes at a charity shelter | Source: Midjourney

“They are, but that’s not the best part!” Abby said.

“Then what is the best part?” I asked.

“Oh, Becs,” she laughed. “Lovely Aunt Darlene has been uninvited from the New Year’s Eve gala. You know, the one she brags about all year? Her favorite event of the year? Yep. All gone!”

A man talking on a phone | Source: Midjourney

A man talking on a phone | Source: Midjourney

Mark and I exchanged glances. Darlene loved that gala more than anything. It was the ultimate social slap in the face. And she would have probably been planning her outfit since October.

Abby cut the call, still laughing to herself.

“She’s going to be so upset,” I said, slicing a lemon.

Lemons on a board | Source: Midjourney

Lemons on a board | Source: Midjourney

“Serves her right,” my husband said. “She deserves this. She’s full of nonsense. And she donated the kids’ clothes just like that? She didn’t even wash it! What the hell, Becca?!”

“Let’s just have dinner with the kids and leave Darlene for the night,” I said.

A week later, Darlene called Mark, desperate for sympathy.

“They’ve all turned against me,” she sobbed. “I don’t understand what I did wrong!”

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney

Mark didn’t miss a beat.

“Mom, you took all your grandkids’ Christmas presents because you didn’t get a handbag. Now you’re paying the price for being petty.”

She tried to apologize, but Mark wasn’t having it.

“If you want a relationship with my wife and children, you have a lot to make up for. And my kids are incredible. It’s your loss, Ma.”

Three smiling children | Source: Midjourney

Three smiling children | Source: Midjourney

In the end, we spoke to our children, explaining to them that their grandmother was angry with us, not them.

“She just wanted to teach Mom and me a lesson,” Mark said. “You guys did nothing wrong.”

“Are you sure?” Sadie asked, her lower lip jutting out.

A smiling man standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

“Yes, I promise!” I said. “And this isn’t how we teach lessons. Dad and I will never take away something you love just to punish another person.”

“If we’re naughty, we get a timeout until we learn our lesson, right?” Caleb chimed in.

“Exactly, buddy,” Mark said. “Now, come on, let’s all get some ice cream cones.”

Ice cream cones | Source: Midjourney

Ice cream cones | Source: Midjourney

That’s how one handbag led to a family falling out, a Christmas nearly ruined, and a grandmother learning the hard way that karma never misses.

And honestly? We’re in no rush to forgive.

Trust me, Darlene’s next holiday season won’t be quite as merry and bright.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

My Son Stays Quiet as His Wife Insults Me — But He Soon Teaches Her a Lesson in Front of Guests

Kate cannot wait to spend the holidays with her son and his wife. It’s her first Christmas with the family, and Kate needs to see how she fits. But when Liz criticizes her cooking, and John chooses silence over defending his mother, will the holidays be ruined?

Cooking was always my way of showing love. From the moment I got married, I became the “one who feeds everyone.” Every family dinner, every major holiday, especially Christmas, revolved around me in the kitchen, making meals from scratch.

It wasn’t just about the food. It was about creating something special that brought us together.

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

But when Oliver, my husband, passed away a few years ago, the joy of cooking died with him.

Now, I only cook for myself, enough to get by. But Christmas is different. Christmas is when my son, John, comes home. He’s the reason I still dust off my old recipes, roll up my sleeves, and get to work in the kitchen.

His love for my Christmas dinners has always been special to me. A kind of pride, I guess. This year, though, something was different.

A smiling older man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older man | Source: Midjourney

And not in a good way.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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