Mike and I had been married for eight years. No kids yet, but I thought we were happy. I worked full-time, split the bills, did everything a good wife does.
Then one evening, I came home a little late, and there she was—HER. A very pregnant woman sitting on my couch. My heart skipped a beat, thinking she was a friend in need. But the look on Mike’s face told me everything.
“Hey, we need to talk,” he said casually. Then he dropped the bomb: “This is Jessica. She’s pregnant. With my child. We’ve decided to be together.”
I froze. Then he had the nerve to tell me TO MOVE TO MY MOM’S while they took the house. I was speechless. My blood was boiling, but I kept my cool.
I looked him dead in the eyes and said, “Okay, I’ll go away.” But I only PRETENDED I WAS GOING TO LEAVE. INSTEAD, I SET OUT TO TEACH HIM A LESSON.
That night, I packed a small bag, just enough to make it seem like I was leaving. I even made a show of calling my mom in front of him, telling her I needed to stay for a while. Mike barely reacted. He just nodded, satisfied, already acting like I was out of the picture.
But I wasn’t going anywhere.
Before I walked out the door, I turned back. “One last thing,” I said, keeping my voice even. “You’re sure this is what you want?”
Jessica looked away, but Mike didn’t hesitate. “Yes. It’s better this way.”
I forced a smile. “Alright. Take care, Mike.”
Then I walked out—but not before slipping my spare key into my pocket.
For the next week, I let them get comfortable. I stayed at a hotel, but every day while Mike was at work, I returned to the house. I wasn’t just there for closure—I was there to make life difficult for them. I knew every detail about that house, every quirk of the locks, every weak spot in their plan.
First, I made sure the utilities were under my name—which they were. So, on the third day, I shut off the internet and changed the password. Small inconvenience, but it was just the beginning.
Then, I went to the bank. Since our mortgage was still jointly owned, I withdrew every penny from our joint savings. Legally, I was entitled to half, but I took a little extra as a consolation prize. After all, he was the one who decided to start over without warning.
By the fourth day, I noticed Jessica starting to look frustrated. I saw her through the window, frowning at her phone, trying to get a signal. That same night, I came back when they were asleep. Quietly, I turned the thermostat up to 90 degrees, then removed the batteries from the remote. I could hear them arguing from outside.
On day five, I made my final move. I had already spoken to a lawyer, and since my name was on the house, I legally had the right to reclaim it. So, while Mike was at work, I walked in with a locksmith and had every lock changed.
Jessica was home when it happened. She stood there, wide-eyed as the locksmith drilled away.
“You can’t do this!” she shrieked.
I shrugged. “Actually, I can. My name’s still on the deed. You two thought you could just kick me out? Guess again.”
She grabbed her phone, probably calling Mike, but I was one step ahead.
“Oh, and one more thing,” I added, handing her a folder. “That’s an eviction notice. You have 48 hours to leave.”
Jessica’s mouth fell open, but she was speechless.
Mike showed up later that evening, furious. “What the hell, Sarah?!” he yelled.
I was calm. “Oh, Mike, welcome home. Except, it’s not your home anymore.”
“You can’t do this!” he roared.
“Actually, I can,” I replied smoothly. “I spoke to a lawyer. Legally, I have the right to the house. You wanted to start a new life? Great. Start it somewhere else.”
Jessica was crying, and Mike was fuming, but I felt nothing but satisfaction.
“You need to leave,” I continued, handing him his own eviction notice. “I’ll give you a few minutes to pack.”
Mike had no choice. He gathered his things, muttering under his breath, while Jessica sobbed beside him. I stood at the door, arms crossed, waiting.
When they stepped outside, I gave them one last smile. “Good luck with everything.” Then I shut the door in their faces.
I won’t lie and say it was easy. It hurt like hell. But I walked away with my dignity and my home. Mike wanted to replace me? He could do it somewhere else.
The best part? A few months later, I heard through mutual friends that Jessica left him. Turns out, she didn’t like the real Mike once the honeymoon phase ended. He tried reaching out to me, but by then, I was already moving on.
Moral of the story? Don’t let anyone treat you like an afterthought. Sometimes, karma just needs a little push.
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