After a bitter marriage marked by Mike’s obsession with material wealth, Nicole shockingly agrees to give him everything in their divorce. But as Mike revels in his “victory,” Nicole’s laughter reveals a secret plan in motion. What Mike doesn’t know is that she’s about to make her final move.
I stepped out of the lawyer’s office with a blank expression, my shoulders slumped, looking every bit the defeated ex-wife. The rain was coming down hard, and the gray sky matched my mood — or at least the mood I wanted people to think I was in.
A woman walking past a window | Source: Midjourney
Inside, I was buzzing. My hands clenched the cold steel of the door handle as I headed toward the elevator. No one was around. Good.
The elevator door closed behind me with a soft ding, and as soon as I was alone, I let out a little giggle. It wasn’t something I planned; it bubbled up from deep inside like champagne finally uncorked.
The more I thought about what I’d just done the more it built up until I was cackling in the elevator like a lunatic.
A woman laughing in an elevator | Source: Midjourney
If anyone saw me right then, they’d think I had finally snapped, gone over the edge from all the stress, but oh no, this was just the beginning. Everything was falling perfectly into place.
The house, the car, the savings — Mike could have them all. It was exactly what I wanted. He thought he’d won, and that was the best part. He didn’t have a clue what was coming.
The elevator stopped with a jolt, and I pulled myself together. I glanced at my reflection in the elevator’s mirrored wall: messy hair, tired eyes, and a faint smile still lingering on my lips. I didn’t even care. This was going to be fun.
A woman in an elevator | Source: Midjourney
A few weeks earlier…
Mike and I hadn’t been happy for years, but it wasn’t just the regular kind of falling out of love. Mike was obsessed with his image. He was all about the flashy cars, having the biggest house on the block, and wearing only designer clothes.
All of it was a performance, and I had played my part for too long. The cracks had started to show, and when the arguments became more frequent, I knew it wasn’t long before the inevitable happened.
A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney
The thing is, I wasn’t scared of the divorce. I knew Mike, and I knew exactly how this would play out.
He didn’t care about saving the marriage. No, what he wanted was to win — win the house, win the money, win the divorce.
All I wanted was to be free of this pretentious lifestyle. But that didn’t mean I was going to let him screw me over, either. So, I’d let Mike have what he wanted, but with a catch as sharp as a fishhook.
A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney
It happened on a Tuesday. Mike came home late, again. I was in the kitchen, pretending to scroll through my phone, not bothering to look up when he stormed in.
“We need to talk.”
I sighed, barely masking the boredom in my voice. “What now?”
He slammed his keys on the counter, and I could practically feel the frustration radiating off him. He always got like this when things didn’t go his way at work, and of course, I was the easiest target.
An irritated man | Source: Midjourney
“I’m done,” he said, his voice low and tight. “I want a divorce.”
I blinked up at him. Finally. I nodded slowly, like it was sinking in, but really, I had been prepared for this moment for weeks.
“Okay,” I said simply.
He frowned, clearly taken aback. “That’s it? No fight? No begging?”
I shrugged. “What’s the point?”
A woman staring ahead | Source: Midjourney
For a second, he looked confused, like I had taken the wind out of his sails. He was expecting resistance, expecting me to plead with him to stay.
But I just needed to give him enough rope to hang himself with.
The divorce negotiations were as awful as I expected. We sat across from each other in a sterile conference room, lawyers flanking us, as Mike outlined every little thing he wanted. The house, the car, the savings; it was like he was reading off a grocery list.
Close up of a man’s eyes | Source: Midjourney
And the entire time, he had this smug little grin on his face, like he thought I’d break down and cry at any moment.
“Fine,” I said, barely listening. “You can have it all.”
My lawyer shot me a look, one that clearly said, “Are you sure?” But I just nodded.
Mike blinked. “Wait, what?”
“I said, you can have it. I don’t want any of it, except for my personal possessions.”
A woman | Source: Midjourney
He looked stunned. “You… you don’t want the house? Or the money?”
“Nope,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “It’s all yours.”
His shock quickly morphed into glee. “Great. Then take this afternoon to pack up your belongings. It’s not much, so that should be plenty of time.” Mike glanced at his watch. “I’ll expect you to be out by six.”
“No problem,” I replied.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
He sat up straighter, his chest puffing out like he’d just won the lottery. And I let him think it.
And that brings me back to that moment when I stepped into the elevator in the lawyer’s office building, and couldn’t contain my laughter anymore.
As I stepped out of the elevator, I pulled out my phone. My fingers hovered over the screen for a second before I typed out a quick message: I’m heading to the house to pack up my things. I’ll call you when it’s time to make your move.
I hit send and smiled. Time for the real fun to begin.
A cell phone | Source: Pexels
Packing up the house was easier than I thought it would be. I didn’t want much, just a few personal things, mostly items that held memories that weren’t tainted by Mike. The house was too big for just the two of us anyway, and it always felt more like his house than mine.
I was taping up the last box when I picked up the phone to make the call. My mom, Barbara, answered on the second ring.
“Hey,” I said, keeping my voice light. “It’s time.”
A woman making a phone call | Source: Midjourney
There was a pause, and then Mom’s familiar, no-nonsense tone came through. “Finally. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
Mom couldn’t stand Mike. She saw right through his flashy facade the day I introduced them. But the best part? She had helped us buy this house. She was the reason Mike thought he had scored such a great deal on it, and now she was going to be the reason he lost it.
I hung up, feeling a strange sense of relief as I looked around. I was done pretending.
A woman holding her phone | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I was making breakfast in my new little apartment when my phone rang. I smirked as Mike’s name flashed across the screen.
“Hello?” I answered sweetly.
“You set me up!” Mike’s voice was furious, practically frothing at the mouth.
I put the phone on speaker, grabbing a piece of toast as I leaned against the counter. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”
A slice of toast | Source: Midjourney
“Your mother!” he spat. “She’s… she’s in my house! She’s taken over everything!”
“Oh, right,” I said, biting into my toast. “Remember that agreement we signed when she gave us the down payment? The one that lets her live there whenever she wants, for as long as she wants?”
There was a long pause, and I could practically hear the gears turning in his brain. I could imagine the look on his face, realization dawning.
A woman speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
He had signed that paper years ago, too blinded by the allure of a fancy house to even think twice about the fine print.
“You! You cheated me! This isn’t over. I’m getting my lawyers—”
Before he could finish, I heard Mom’s voice in the background, sharp and cutting through the phone. “Michael, you better get your feet off that coffee table! And stop hogging the remote!”
There was a muffled sound as if Mike had turned away from the phone, trying to whisper. “Barbara, this is my house—”
A smiling woman on a phone call | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, hush,” Mom interrupted, louder now. “It’s my house just as much as yours. And another thing, what’s with all these cheap snacks? Do you know how to grocery shop? I’m not living off frozen dinners!”
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Mike mumbled something incoherent, his frustration barely contained, but before he could get another word in, I heard her again.
“And turn down that TV! You think I want to listen to that nonsense all day? If you’re going to watch those ridiculous car shows, at least mute it!”
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
There was a loud crash, followed by some more muttering, and then the phone clicked off abruptly. I took a deep breath, smiling as I sat down at the table.
Freedom never tasted so sweet.
Here’s another story: When I overheard my husband advising his friend to deliberately botch household chores, I felt a surge of anger. That moment marked the beginning of a transformation in our marriage, one where I decided to confront his weaponized incompetence by treating him like the child he was pretending to be.
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.
I Received a Panicked Video Message from My Mom — I Was Stunned to Learn What Dad Had Done to Her.
While Annie is having a lazy Saturday, sitting around and scrolling through social media, a video message from her mom pops up. As she hits play, Annie discovers that one of her father’s pranks has left her mother scared and alone. Annie rushes over to her parents’ house, ready to teach her father a lesson.
I didn’t think my dad would ever take one of his dumb jokes this far, but here we are, having lived through it. My phone lit up earlier today with a video message from my mom that made my heart stop for a second.
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw, and now, hours later, I’m still trying to process the whole thing.
Let me back up a second and give you some context on how everything went down. My dad is what you’d call “old school.” He has this grumpy exterior, like he came straight out of the 1970s and never quite adapted to life in the present.
He’s not a bad guy, but he can be ridiculously difficult to get along with. He doesn’t do heart-to-hearts or deep conversations. Instead, he sheds part of his grumpiness off when he’s at home and leans into his pranking nature. They are harmless, annoying little pranks that he thinks are hilarious but leave my mom rolling her eyes and sighing.
Most of the time, Dad does really stupid stuff like hiding Mom’s glasses when she’s looking for them or misplacing her keys right when she’s about to leave. These pranks have always been annoying, but nothing too wild.
Except today.
Today, Dad decided to really outdo himself.
I was in my little apartment about 20 minutes from my parents’ house. I was minding my own business, sipping on a soft drink and scrolling through TikTok, when my phone pinged with a message from my mother.
A video message.
The thumbnail was black, and all I could hear was her voice, which was muffled and kind of shaky. Like she was afraid of something.
That’s when I got a bit panicked. Mom wasn’t the type to send video messages. To be honest, I didn’t think she knew how to do it. Immediately, I knew that something was off.
I tapped play, and there she was. The camera was all shaky, and she was crouched in a corner, whispering like she was about to be caught by someone or something.
“Annie,” she breathed into the phone. “Sweetheart, your dad… he locked me in the basement. Can you come help me? He thinks this is funny. All because he wanted to eat in peace. I think there are rats or mice in the basement, Annie. Come quickly.”
What. The. Hell.
I was so shocked, I nearly dropped my phone onto the floor. Locked in the basement? He locked her in the basement? And it was supposed to be funny?
My dad, in all his “wisdom,” had apparently decided that the best way to enjoy his dinner in peace was to lock my mother in the basement. Just so that she wouldn’t remind him to eat his veggies during a precious football game? He truly didn’t care about his cholesterol.
I called her back immediately, but it went straight to voicemail.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up!” I muttered.
My brain went straight into overdrive. My mom never asked for help unless things were way beyond something she could do for herself. She was a woman who could handle herself. I mean, she’s lived with my father for years, so that had to count for something. But she was also a woman who was deeply afraid of the dark and confined places.
So now, she was locked in the basement and not answering her phone. Dad had really crossed a line with this one.
I texted her, but there was no response.
“Maybe her phone died, Annie,” I told myself. “She must be so afraid… and livid.”
I knew I had to get to her as soon as possible.
I grabbed my keys and bolted out of my apartment. I live about twenty minutes away from my parents, but I swear, I made it in twelve.
The entire drive, I was fuming, and I already knew how this was going to end. My dad thought he was clever, but if there’s one thing I inherited from him, other than his eye color, it’s the ability to come up with a solid revenge plan.
“I can’t believe the nerve of this man,” I said to myself as I turned into our street.
When I got to the house, I didn’t even bother knocking. I had my spare key, so I let myself in. As soon as I stepped inside, I could hear the muffled sound of the TV blaring from the living room.
Classic Dad.
He was probably sitting there, stuffing his face with steak. It was a home routine—Saturdays meant steak for dinner. Little did he know, I was about to teach him a lesson, too.
I headed straight for the basement. Sure enough, the door was locked, but the key hung from the hook next to the door.
I knocked softly, and Mom’s relieved voice came through the wood.
“Honey, is that you?” she whispered.
“Yeah, it’s me, Mom,” I said. “Hang tight, we’re getting you out of there.”
I unlocked the door, and when my mother stepped out, she didn’t even look mad. She just looked tired. But there was a glint in her eye, like she wanted to get revenge on my father, too.
“Dad’s still in the living room,” I said. “He didn’t even hear me come in.”
“Oh? He’s still enjoying his victory, then?”
“Yeah, well, that’s going to be short-lived, Mom,” I said.
There’s one thing about my father: he loves his “throne.” It’s a ridiculous electric recliner that he spent way too much money on a few years ago. He loves it more than any person in the world, which is sad and pathetic, but true.
The chair has heated seats, a massage feature, and even USB ports. He treats it like it’s something sacred in our home.
Naturally, I aimed my revenge at it.
I told my mom the plan, and she laughed nervously. We crept toward the living room where Dad was zoned out, still glued to his game, digging into his dinner.
I quietly unplugged his precious chair from the wall. And the best part? This man didn’t even notice a thing. Then, with my mom watching, I pulled a little tube of super glue that I had taken from the kitchen.
I smeared it over the chair’s buttons, still absolutely perplexed that my father didn’t register that I was in the room, right next to him.
After that, Mom and I went back to the kitchen. We sat on the bar stools in silence as Mom opened a tub of cookies for us to nibble on.
Ten minutes later, the game went to half-time. We could hear Dad shift in his chair and he tried to press the recline button. Nothing happened. He frowned and pressed it again, harder this time.
Still nothing.
“What the heck?” he grumbled, fiddling with the controls. Then, I saw it. The moment when the realization hit him.
He started pulling at the armrests, trying to get up, but his hands were stuck. His face turned from confusion to full-on panic.
“What’s wrong, Frank?” Mom asked, strolling into the living room.
“The darn chair is broken!” he complained.
“Oh, really? Maybe because you overuse it. But wasn’t it fine before you locked me in the basement?” Mom asked.
My father’s eyes widened.
“You didn’t… Wait! How did you get out?” he asked.
“Annie,” Mom said simply.
I stepped out from my spot in the kitchen, where I had been recording their conversation.
“Smile for the camera, Dad,” I said. “This is going in the family group chat!”
“You wouldn’t dare, Annie!” he barked at me, tugging helplessly at his stuck hands.
“Oh, but I would,” I said.
I pressed send, and the replies started rolling in soon. If there was one thing my father hated, it was being seen beyond his usual façade. He didn’t want people to see the real him. And this was him, an ugly person.
“I’m taking Mom home with me for the rest of the weekend,” I said. “You can figure out how to get yourself off your throne.”
Mom went upstairs to pack herself an overnight bag. I didn’t want to leave her with Dad. But I doubt he’ll be locking anyone in the basement anytime soon.
What would you have done?
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