When Gina and her husband, Brendan, decided to part ways, Gina took a break from the turmoil by spending a weekend at her parents’ home. Little did she know, upon her return, she’d find her world turned upside down—literally. All her belongings were scattered across the front lawn.
But luck was on Gina’s side, and among the chaos, she discovered something incredibly valuable to Brendan. What followed was a perfect moment of sweet revenge.
After Brendan and I agreed to separate, the person I knew vanished. He turned into someone completely different—bitter, angry, and resentful.
“You’re really going to complain about me? About the way I talk?” Brendan shouted, his voice echoing through the house.
“All I’m saying is, calm down. Yelling isn’t helping,” I replied, rubbing my temples as a headache started to build.
“Don’t you dare ‘calm down’ me, Gina! You did this! With your endless complaints and ridiculous demands. Just go live your own life.”
And so, I did.
As we began the painful task of dividing our belongings, Brendan became even more unbearable. We couldn’t pack without fighting.
“I’ll handle the books,” he muttered while going through the shelves.
“You’ll just mix my stuff with yours,” I countered, crossing my arms.
“Fine. Do it yourself then,” he snapped.
The stress was overwhelming, so I decided to spend the weekend at my parents’ house to clear my head.
“You’re running back to your parents, huh? Typical,” Brendan sneered as I packed.
“They’re better company than you,” I shot back, slamming the door behind me.
The weekend was exactly what I needed. Mom spoiled me with home-cooked meals, and Dad gave me quiet support. “Are you sure about the divorce?” he asked gently one evening.
“Yes,” I sighed. “Brendan and I haven’t been on the same page for years. There’s no love left.”
Mom nodded and said, “If your heart is telling you to let go, then follow it.”
I spent the weekend walking my parents’ dog, Pippy, and thinking about the new start ahead of me. By Monday, I felt more centered and ready to face what lay ahead.
But when I drove up to the house, I was in for a shock. All my furniture—everything I had collected over the years, from my grandmother’s rocking chair to my beloved flea market finds—was scattered across the lawn. A large, hand-painted sign read “Free Stuff!” among the mess.
“What the hell?” I muttered, slamming the car door shut. My coffee table, couch, and family heirlooms were baking in the sun, waiting for anyone to claim them.
I immediately called Brendan, my hands shaking. “Why is all my stuff on the lawn?” I demanded.
“Oh, that,” he replied smugly. “You were planning to take me for everything in the divorce, right? Now you know what it feels like to lose something important.”
I was speechless. Sure, I had considered fighting for what I deserved in the divorce, but this? This was just cruel.
“You’re unbelievable,” I finally said. “You think this solves anything? You’re just making things worse.”
He laughed. “Whatever. Maybe charge people for it instead of giving it away for free.”
I hung up, too exhausted to argue any further. As I stared at my belongings, frustration boiling over, I kicked the bedside table I had repainted just months ago. It toppled over, and I heard a small jingling sound. Curious, I crouched down and opened the drawer.
There, hidden among loose change and old receipts, was Brendan’s most prized possession—his father’s watch, an heirloom passed down through generations. He cherished it so much he rarely wore it, afraid of losing it.
A grin spread across my face. “Checkmate,” I muttered, slipping the watch into my pocket. Brendan had left it behind without realizing, and now I held all the cards.
I texted a few friends to help me move my things back inside. As we worked, I told Jenny about the watch. “Brendan’s going to flip when he realizes it’s gone,” I said, feeling a satisfying flicker of revenge.
That evening, my phone buzzed. It was Brendan. “Hey, Gina. I think I left something important behind. Can I come by and grab it?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I replied casually, enjoying a slice of pizza. “The neighbors took a few things. Maybe you should check with Cathy. She might have what you’re looking for.”
“Gina, it’s my dad’s watch. I need it back.”
I let the silence hang before answering. “Oh, the watch? Well, you might want to see if Cathy will sell it back to you—for the right price.”
He knew I was bluffing, but there was nothing he could do. The next morning, he showed up with $500 in an envelope, his face a mix of desperation and regret.
“Here,” he said, handing me the money. “You win.”
“Thanks. You can go now,” I said, handing him the watch.
As he walked away, I felt a strange sense of closure. Brendan may have made the split ugly, but I got the last word—and the satisfaction that came with it.