My ex-husband once told me, “It’s just harmless fun.” That’s what he called his infidelity. But when he ripped the wallpaper off my walls after our divorce, karma decided it was her turn to have some fun — with him.
Do you believe in karma? Like, honestly, I used to think it was just something people said to make themselves feel better after someone hurt them. They’d say things like: “Don’t worry, karma will get them.”
Yeah, right. But let me tell you, karma is real. And in my case? She had a WICKED sense of humor.
A heartbroken woman | Source: Midjourney
Let me set the stage for you. My ex-husband, Dan, and I were married for eight years. Eight long years where I thought we had something solid — a house we worked on together, two beautiful kids, and a life that, while not perfect, felt like ours.
But as it turns out, I was the only one in that marriage who believed in “ours.” And I should’ve seen the red flags.
Because the night I discovered Dan’s infidelity is seared into my memory.
A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash
Our daughter Emma had been sick with a fever, and I was rummaging through Dan’s drawer for the children’s medicine he always kept there. Instead, I found his phone.
I wasn’t trying to snoop, but a notification that flashed across the screen grabbed my attention: a heart emoji followed by ‘I love you!’
I couldn’t stop myself from opening it and my heart cracked when I found dozens of intimate text exchanges between my husband and a woman named “Jessica.”
A shocked woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney
“How could you?” I whispered that night, my hands shaking as I confronted him. “Eight years, Dan. Eight years! How could you cheat on me?”
He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. “It just happened,’ he said with a shrug, as if we were discussing the weather. “These things happen in marriages. It was just some harmless fun with my secretary, Jessica. It won’t happen again, honey. Never! I’m sorry. Trust me.”
“These things happen? No, Dan. They don’t JUST HAPPEN. You made choices. Every single time.”
An annoyed man shrugging | Source: Midjourney
The first time, I did what so many of us do — I convinced myself it was a mistake and a lapse in judgment. I thought we could fix it. I told myself that forgiveness was the strong thing to do. But the second time? Oh, the second time SHATTERED whatever illusions I had left.
“I thought we could work through this,” I said as I held up the evidence of his second betrayal — red lipstick stain on his collar. The irony? I hated red lipstick and never wore them.
“I thought you meant it when you said ‘never’ again.”
“What do you want me to say?” he asked, his tone almost bored. “That I’m sorry? Would that make you feel better?”
That was the moment something inside me snapped. “No! I want you to pack your bags.”
An angry woman engaged in a heated argument | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t waste a second. I filed for divorce before Dan could even stammer out another pathetic excuse.
The divorce itself was as brutal as you’d imagine.
But here’s the thing: the house wasn’t up for grabs. It was mine, passed down from my grandmother long before Dan entered the picture.
A picturesque house with a breathtaking garden | Source: Midjourney
“This is ridiculous!” Dan had shouted during one of our mediation sessions. “I’ve lived in that house for eight years. I’ve put money into it!”
“And it’s still my grandmother’s house,” I replied calmly, watching him fume. “The deed is in my name, Dan. It always has been.”
Legally, there was no argument. Dan, on the other hand, insisted on splitting everything else 50/50, just as we always had in our marriage. Groceries, vacations, furniture — you name it, he demanded fairness to the penny.
A woman arguing with someone | Source: Midjourney
And then came the moment that broke my heart more than any of his infidelities. We were discussing custody arrangements when Dan looked at our lawyer and without a hint of emotion, said, “She can have full custody. I don’t want the responsibility of raising the kids.”
Our children, Emma and Jack, were in the next room. My precious babies, who deserved so much better than a father who saw them as a burden.
“They’re your children,” I hissed across the table. “How can you just —”
“They’re better off with you anyway,” he cut me off. “You’ve always been the one good at all that nurturing stuff.”
A man staring grimly | Source: Midjourney
After the paperwork was signed, Dan asked for a week to pack his things and leave. He claimed he needed the time to “sort everything out.” To give him the space and to spare the kids from any awkward encounters, I took them to my mom’s for the week.
The night before we left, Emma clutched her favorite stuffed rabbit and asked, “Mommy, why can’t Daddy come with us to Grandma’s?”
I held her close, fighting back tears. How do you explain to a six-year-old what a divorce means, or why her family was breaking apart?
“Sometimes, sweetheart, grown-ups need some time apart to figure things out,” I said.
A sad little girl holding a stuffed rabbit | Source: Midjourney
“But will he miss us?” Jack, my eight-year-old, asked from the doorway.
“Of course he will,” I lied, my heart breaking all over again. “Of course he will.”
I figured it was the least I could do.
When the week was up, I returned home with the kids, ready to start our new chapter. But what I walked into was nothing short of a nightmare.
The wallpaper — the gorgeous floral wallpaper — was GONE.
A startled woman | Source: Midjourney
The living room walls, once covered in beautiful floral paper we’d picked out together, were stripped bare. Jagged patches of drywall peeked through, like the house had been skinned alive. My stomach sank as I followed the destruction trail to the kitchen.
And there he was — Dan— tearing off another strip of wallpaper like a man possessed.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled.
He turned around, completely unfazed. “I bought this wallpaper. It’s mine.”
“Dan,” I finally managed. “You’re ripping apart the house your kids live in.”
A man ripping a floral wallpaper | Source: Midjourney
“Mom?” Jack’s voice trembled. “Why is Dad doing that to our walls?”
He burst into tears. “I loved the flowers! They were pretty! Why are you tearing the wallpaper, Daddy?”
I knelt down to their level, trying to shield them from the sight of their father methodically destroying our home. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. We can pick out new wallpaper together. Something even prettier. Would you like that?”
A little boy crying | Source: Pexels
“But why is he taking it?” Emma hiccupped between sobs.
I didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t hurt them even more. I shot Dan a look sharp enough to wither him.
He simply shrugged and said, “I paid for it. And I have all the right to destroy it!”
A man turning around while removing a wallpaper | Source: Midjourney
As Dan continued to rip the walllpaper, I noticed the kids peeking around the corner, their little faces confused and scared. My heart broke for them. I didn’t want this to be the memory they carried of their father in this house.
So I took a deep breath and said, “Fine. Do what you want.” Then I ushered the kids back to the car and left.
When I returned later that evening, it was even worse than I’d expected.
A woman driving a car | Source: Unsplash
Dan had gone full petty. The kitchen was stripped of utensils, the toaster, and even the coffee maker. He’d even taken all the toilet paper from the bathrooms… and practically everything he’d bought with his OWN MONEY.
“You’re UNBELIEVABLE!” I muttered.
It was maddening. But I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten under my skin.
A man holding a toilet paper roll | Source: Unsplash
A month later, I joined a book club. At first, it was just a way to get out of the house and feel like myself again. But the women there quickly became my support system.
One night, after a couple of glasses of wine, I spilled the wallpaper story. I described every absurd detail, from the stripped walls to the missing toilet paper.
“Wait, he took the toilet paper too?” Cassie, one of the women, choked out between laughs.
“Yes!” I said, laughing despite myself. “I can’t believe I married someone so ridiculous that I don’t even feel like uttering his name.”
A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney
“Girl,” Cassie said, wiping tears from her eyes, “you dodged a bullet. Who does that? A grown man ripping wallpaper off walls? He sounds like an overgrown toddler. Gosh, please don’t reveal his name or we’d start despising every man with that name!”
The whole table erupted into laughter. It was cathartic. It was the first time I’d really laughed about the whole mess.
“You know what the worst part was?” I confided to the group, my wine glass nearly empty. “Trying to explain it to the kids. How do you tell your children their father cares more about wallpaper than their happiness?”
A distressed woman | Source: Midjourney
Betty, another book club member, reached across and squeezed my hand. “Children are resilient. They’ll remember who stayed and who put them first. That’s what matters.”
“I hope so,” I whispered, thinking of Emma’s tears and Jack’s confusion. “God, I hope so.”
Little did I know, karma was just getting started.
Six months passed. Life settled into a new normal. The kids were thriving, and I’d put the chaos of the divorce behind me. Dan barely crossed my mind — until the day he called me out of nowhere.
A man making a phonecall | Source: Midjourney
“Hey,” he said, his tone smug. “I thought you should know — I’m getting married next month. Some women actually want to be with me. And I found a gorgeous bombshell!”
“Congratulations,” I said, keeping my voice even. Then I hung up.
I thought that would be the end of it. But a few weeks later, I was walking downtown, enjoying a rare solo outing, when I spotted Dan across the street. He was holding hands with a woman.
A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash
At first, I didn’t think much of it. I figured it was his fiancée and kept walking. But then, they crossed the street and walked straight toward me.
As they got closer, my stomach DROPPED. The woman was CASSIE— my friend from the book club.
Her face lit up when she saw me. “Oh my gosh, hey!” she said, tugging Dan toward me. “This is such a small world! I have so much to tell you! I’m engaged! This is my fiancé, his name is…”
I forced a tight smile. “Yeah, DAN! I know.”
A shocked woman standing on the road | Source: Midjourney
Cassie blinked, her smile faltering. “Wait… you know each other?”
Dan looked like he wanted to disappear. His grip on her hand tightened, and his jaw clenched.
“Oh, we go way back,” I said casually.
Cassie’s eyes darted between us, confusion turning to suspicion. “What do you mean, ‘go way back’? How do you know each other? Dan, do you… know her?”
A stunned woman | Source: Midjourney
Dan let out a nervous laugh. “Cassie, it’s not important —”
“Oh, yeah! Not that important. He’s just my ex-husband,” I said bluntly, cutting him off.
Cassie’s face froze, and then realization dawned. “Wait a second,” she said slowly. “That story you told at the book club… the one about the wallpaper? About that freaking guy? Is that… him?”
Her words hung in the air. And Dan’s panicked expression said it all.
A nervous man standing on the street | Source: Midjourney
Cassie turned to him, her eyes narrowing. “Oh my God… that was YOU?”
“Cassie, it’s not what you think —” Dan pleaded.
“It’s exactly what I think,” she snapped. “You ripped wallpaper off the walls of your kids’ home because you bought it? Who does that?”
A furious woman yelling at a man | Source: Midjourney
“It was a long time ago,” Dan stammered. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” Cassie hissed, pulling her hand away. “And what about the lies? The evil ex-wife who took your kids to another country? That she cheated on you? You’re unbelievable, Dan. You liar!”
She turned to me, her expression softening. “I’m so sorry, Nora. I had no idea.”
A heartbroken woman with her eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney
Before I could respond, Cassie whirled back to Dan. “You’re a walking red flag. I can’t believe I almost married you.”
And just like that, she stormed off, leaving Dan standing there, dumbstruck, and staring at the engagement ring she’d just flung at him.
He glanced at me, his face a thundercloud of anger and desperation. I just smiled faintly and walked away. This DAMAGE was more than enough!
A woman walking away | Source: Midjourney
That evening, as I tucked the kids into bed, Jack asked me something that made my heart swell.
“Mom, remember when Dad took all the wallpaper?”
I tensed, waiting for the pain in his voice. Instead, he surprised me.
“I’m glad we got to pick out the new ones together,” he said, smiling. “The dinosaurs in my room are way cooler than those old flowers. Daddy can keep that wallpaper to himself!”
Emma nodded enthusiastically from her bed. “And my butterflies! They’re the prettiest ever!”
A stunning kids’ room with gorgeous wallpaper and stuffed toys | Source: Midjourney
I looked around at our colorful walls, now covered in papers we’d chosen together, as a family of three. Walls that told our new story, not the one Dan had tried to strip away.
“You know what?” I said, pulling them both close. “I think so too.”
That day, I learned an important lesson: sometimes, you don’t need to chase revenge. Just give karma a little time, and it’ll serve justice with a side of poetic irony.
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
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.
My MIL Tried on My Wedding Dress and Ruined It — She Refused to Pay for It, So I Used My Secret Weapon
АМАМI didn’t think much of it when my future MIL kept pestering me about my wedding dress until I came home to find my $3,000 gown missing! The truth? She’d tried it on, ruined it, and refused to pay. Furious and desperate, I confronted her — armed with a secret weapon that changed everything.
I should have known something was wrong when Janet, my future mother-in-law, kept asking about my wedding dress.
A woman frowning while checking her phone messages | Source: Midjourney
For weeks, she’d text me almost daily: “Have you found the dress yet?” or “Make sure you pick something nice, dear. You don’t want to look like a doily.”
But despite her constant nagging, there was always some excuse whenever I invited her to come dress shopping with me.
“Sorry, I have a migraine,” she’d say. Or, “Oh, I’m just too busy this weekend.”
My mom noticed it too.
A woman having a conversation with her mother | Source: Midjourney
“Strange how invested she is for someone who won’t even come look,” she said one afternoon as we browsed through our third bridal boutique of the day.
I shrugged it off, trying to focus on the excitement of finding my perfect dress.
“I don’t get it either. But hey, at least I don’t have to deal with her criticizing my choices, right?”
I turned to look at a different display right near the back of the shop. That’s when I saw it: an ivory A-line gown with delicate lace detailing and a sweetheart neckline.
A wedding dress on display in a store | Source: Midjourney
The moment I tried it on, I knew. The way it hugged my curves before flowing out gracefully, the subtle sparkle of the beading catching the light — it was everything I’d dreamed of.
“Oh, honey,” my mom whispered, tears in her eyes. “This is the one.”
The price tag read $3,000. Which was more than I’d planned to spend, but sometimes perfection comes at a cost.
As I stood there in the fitting room, my mom snapping pictures from every angle, I felt like a real bride. Everything was falling into place.
A woman trying on a wedding dress in a store | Source: Midjourney
I texted Janet the minute I got home to tell her I’d found the perfect dress. She replied within minutes, demanding I bring the dress so she could see it.
I texted her back: “Sorry, Janet, but I’m going to keep it right here until the big day. I’ll send you the pictures my mom took.”
“No. I don’t want to see pictures!” she texted back immediately. “Bring the dress!”
A woman reading a message on her phone | Source: Midjourney
I firmly refused again, and again. She was very insistent but eventually seemed to realize I wasn’t going to risk damaging my precious and very expensive gown by driving it across town just for her to look at.
Two weeks later, I spent the day at my mom’s house, going over wedding details and working on DIY centerpieces. When I got home that evening, something felt off.
A woman in an apartment looking puzzled | Source: Midjourney
The apartment was too quiet, and Mark’s shoes weren’t by the door where he usually kicked them off.
“Mark?” I called out, dropping my keys on the kitchen counter. No answer.
I headed to our bedroom to change clothes, and that’s when panic hit me like a bucket of ice water.
The garment bag containing my wedding dress wasn’t hanging on the back of the closet door where I’d left it. I immediately guessed what had happened.
A closet in a bedroom | Source: Pexels
My hands shook with anger as I dialed Mark’s number.
“Hey, babe,” he answered, his voice oddly hesitant.
“You took my dress to your mom’s place, didn’t you?” The words came out sharp and scared.
“She just wanted to see it, and you weren’t home, so…”
I didn’t let him finish. “Bring it back. Right now!”
When Mark walked through the door thirty minutes later, I knew something was wrong.
A guilty-looking man | Source: Midjourney
He smiled like everything was normal but the guilt in his eyes was obvious. My heart was in my throat as I took the garment bag and unzipped it, fearing the worst.
The dress inside was stretched out of shape, the delicate lace torn in places. The zipper hung crooked, broken teeth glinting mockingly in the overhead light.
“What did you do?” My voice came out as a whisper.
A shocked and upset woman in an apartment | Source: Midjourney
“What do you mean?” Mark frowned at me like he had no idea what I was talking about.
“This!” I gestured to the broken zip, the ruined lace, the stretched fabric. Tears filled my eyes as the full extent of the damage became clear. “My wedding dress is ruined!”
“It’s… not that bad. I really don’t know how that happened, honey. Maybe… it was badly made and tore when Mom opened the garment bag?”
A man feigning innocence | Source: Midjourney
“Don’t be ridiculous!” I snapped. “The only way this could’ve happened is if… oh my God! She tried on my wedding dress, didn’t she?”
“Uh…”
“How could you, Mark?” I pulled out my phone and dialed Janet’s number. “She isn’t the same size as me and even if she was, this is MY WEDDING GOWN! Not some sundress from Target.”
Janet answered the phone, and I put her on speaker.
A woman using her cell phone | Source: Pexels
“You ruined my wedding dress! The lace is torn, the zip is ruined, the fabric is stretched out… you and Mark owe me $3000 dollars to replace it.”
Mark’s jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”
And Janet’s reply? She laughed, actually laughed!
“Don’t be so dramatic! I’ll replace the zipper; I know exactly how to do it, and it will be as good as new.”
A woman staring at her phone in disbelief | Source: Midjourney
“No, it won’t,” I replied, my voice cracking. “Repairing the zip won’t fix the rest of the damage. I have to replace the dress, Janet. You know you shouldn’t have tried it on, and now you need to step up and fix this.”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” Janet said sharply.
I looked at Mark, waiting for him to defend me. Instead, he stared at the floor.
My heart broke. I couldn’t bear to deal with him or his awful mother anymore at that moment. I hung up the call, went to the bedroom, and sobbed my eyes out while clutching my ruined dress.
A sad woman clutching a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney
Two days later, Mark’s sister Rachel showed up at my door. Her expression was grim.
“I was there,” she said without preamble. “When Mom tried on your dress. I tried to stop her, but you know how she is. I’m so sorry.”
I invited her in, and she pulled out her phone. “When I realized I couldn’t stop her, I realized there was something else I could do to help you. Here — this will make my mom pay for everything.”
She held out her phone. What I saw on the screen made me sick.
A young woman holding up her cell phone | Source: Midjourney
There was Janet, squeezed into my dress, laughing as she posed in front of her mirror. The fabric strained across her body, the zipper clearly struggling to close.
“She needs to pay for what she did,” Rachel said. “And these pictures are the key.”
I listened closely as Rachel outlined exactly how I could use the pictures to teach Janet a lesson.
A woman listening closely to a young woman | Source: Midjourney
Armed with Rachel’s photos, I confronted Janet again and told her I’d share the photos if she didn’t pay the $3000 she owed me for ruining my dress.
“You wouldn’t dare share those,” she said, examining her manicure. “Think about what it would do to the family.”
I looked at her perfect makeup, her expensive clothes, her carefully cultivated image of the doting mother-in-law. “Try me.”
A confident woman standing with her hands on her hips | Source: Midjourney
That night, I created the Facebook post with shaking hands.
I uploaded Rachel’s photos along with pictures of my ruined dress. I wrote about how my future mother-in-law had tried on my wedding dress without permission and destroyed it. How she’d refused to take responsibility or replace it.
“A wedding dress represents so much more than just a piece of clothing,” I wrote. “It represents dreams, hopes, and trust. All of which have been destroyed along with my dress.”
An emotional woman typing on her phone | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, Janet burst into our apartment without knocking, her face red with fury.
“Take it down!” she screamed, waving her phone in my face. “Do you have any idea what people are saying about me? I’m being humiliated! My friends, my church group, everyone’s seen it!”
“You humiliated yourself when you decided to try on my dress without permission.”
“Mark!” she turned to her son. “Tell her to take it down!”
A furious woman yelling and pointing her finger | Source: Midjourney
Mark looked between us, his face pale. “Mom, maybe if you just offered to replace the dress —”
“Replace it? After what she’s done?” Janet’s voice reached a pitch that probably only dogs could hear. “Never!”
I looked at Mark, really looked at him. At the way he shrunk from conflict, the way he’d let his mother walk all over both of us, the way he’d betrayed my trust without a second thought.
“You’re right, Janet,” I said quietly. “The dress doesn’t need to be replaced.”
Close up of a heartbroken woman’s face | Source: Midjourney
I slipped my engagement ring off my finger and placed it on the coffee table. “Because there won’t be a wedding. I deserve better than a man who won’t stand up for me, and better than a mother-in-law who has no respect for boundaries.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Janet’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Mark started to speak, but I walked to the door and held it open.
“Please leave. Both of you.”
A woman pointing her finger while speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney
As I watched them go, I felt lighter than I had in months.
Here’s another story: I never believed in fortune tellers, but when my best friend insisted I visit Madame Selene, I reluctantly agreed. Then came the bombshell: my husband is hiding a betrayal. Doubts creep in, but my world spun when I overheard Selene gloating about scamming me. Who was behind this, and why?
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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