After years of living with Mike, whose only obsession was money, I decided to surprise him in the biggest way possible. I agreed to give him everything in our divorce. But as he celebrated thinking he had won, I had a trick up my sleeve that he didn’t see coming.
I stepped out of the lawyer’s office, my face blank, shoulders slumped like I was the classic sad ex-wife. The rain poured down outside, just like the way I was pretending to feel.
But inside, I was buzzing with excitement. My hand gripped the cold door handle, and I couldn’t wait to get out of there, alone. I was practically bursting with laughter. No one was around to hear, but once the elevator doors closed, I couldn’t hold it in.
I started giggling—at first, it was just a little sound, but soon it turned into loud laughter, echoing in the tiny space. If anyone had seen me at that moment, they might’ve thought I was losing my mind. But this wasn’t a breakdown—it was the start of the fun.
Mike could have the house, the car, the money. All the things he wanted. I was more than happy to let him think he’d won. But the truth was, I had a plan all along.
As the elevator stopped, I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, a smirk still on my face. Messy hair, tired eyes, but I didn’t care. The real game was about to begin.
A Few Weeks Earlier
Mike and I hadn’t been happy for a long time, but it wasn’t just that we grew apart. Mike had become obsessed with things—luxury cars, huge houses, designer clothes. He wanted everyone to think we were successful, and I had played along for far too long. But as our marriage started falling apart, I knew this day would come.
It wasn’t the divorce that scared me. It was that Mike wanted to win. To him, winning meant taking everything: the house, the savings, the lifestyle. He didn’t care about the marriage or how it ended. He just wanted to be in control.
I knew that, and that’s why I decided to play along.
One evening, Mike came home late, as usual, in a bad mood. I was sitting in the kitchen, scrolling through my phone, barely looking up when he stomped inside.
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice tight with irritation.
I sighed, uninterested. “What now?”
“I want a divorce,” he said, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter like it was a grand announcement.
Finally. I had been waiting for this moment. I didn’t panic. I didn’t argue. I just nodded like it was no big deal.
“Okay,” I said calmly.
He stared at me, shocked. “That’s it? No begging? No crying?”
I shrugged. “What’s the point?”
Mike looked furious now, not getting the reaction he wanted. He thought I would plead with him. But I didn’t. This was part of my plan.
The Divorce Meeting
The divorce talks went just as I expected. Mike sat across from me, barely hiding the smug look on his face as he listed all his demands: the house, the car, the money. It was like he was making a shopping list.
“Fine,” I said, barely listening. “You can have it all.”
My lawyer glanced at me, worried, but I just nodded. This was all part of the plan.
Mike’s eyes grew wide. “Wait… you don’t want the house? The savings?”
“Nope,” I replied, leaning back in my chair, letting a small smile cross my face. “It’s all yours.”
His shock quickly turned to excitement. “Great! You need to pack up and be out by six.”
“Sure, no problem,” I said, smiling inside.
Mike left the room, so proud of himself, thinking he’d won. But little did he know, he was walking right into my trap.
Back in the elevator, I sent a quick text: “Heading to the house to pack. Let’s go ahead with the plan.”
Packing up the house was easy. I didn’t want much—just my personal things. The house had always felt like Mike’s trophy, not a home. When I finished, I called my mom.
“Hey, Mom,” I said when she picked up. “It’s time.”
Barbara, my mom, had never liked Mike. She saw through him from the beginning. The best part was, she had helped us buy the house. And she had made sure her money came with a catch—something Mike had missed in his greed.
The Next Morning
I was sitting in my cozy new apartment when my phone rang. It was Mike.
“You set me up!” he shouted, practically screaming in fury.
I put him on speaker and sipped my coffee. “What are you talking about, Mike?”
“Your mother! She’s in MY house! She’s taken over everything!”
I smiled, feeling calm. “Oh, that? You forgot about the contract, didn’t you? The one that says Mom can live there anytime she wants, for as long as she wants, since she helped with the down payment?”
There was silence. I could imagine the look on Mike’s face as he realized what he’d missed.
“You can’t be serious! I’ll sue! This isn’t over!” he fumed.
But before he could say another word, I heard my mom’s voice in the background, giving orders. “Michael, take your feet off my coffee table! And stop hogging the remote!”
I couldn’t stop my laugh as Mike tried to argue with her. But my mom wasn’t having it.
“You hear me?” she said, loud and clear. “And while you’re at it, fix the grocery situation. I’m not living off frozen dinners!”
The phone clicked off, and I was left with peace and quiet. I leaned back in my chair, a smile spreading across my face.
Freedom had never felt so sweet.
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