At first everything seemed perfect. Jeremy and I had a solid relationship based on trust and understanding – at least I thought.
When we got married, we agreed to divide everything 50/50. I managed my share in the accounts, kept my duties under control, and believed that we both were doing our role to work together.
But sometimes things are not what they look like on the surface. I had no idea that for the next two years I would unknowingly fund the hidden agenda. I knew a little, I was about to reveal a secret that would change everything.
When Jeremy and I tied a knot, we agreed on a simple rule – everything would be divided evenly, including rent. He found us an apartment and told me that the rent was $ 2,000 a month. So, like a watch, I gave him half $ 1,000 every month, while allegedly paid our landlord.
I believed it was exactly what he was doing for two years. Everything changed everything until one December evening.
I got stuck in an elevator with a neighbor. We talked to go through time until she said something that caused my heart to stop:
“Oh, you live in Jeremy and instead of Mrs. Lorrie, right?”
Jeremy and Mrs. Lorrie? Like in … his mother?
I was flashing, I wasn’t sure what I had just heard. She smiled innocently and continued, “Yeah, Jeremy’s mom owns this apartment. She bought it years ago. She rented it for a while, then Jeremy moved with his ex. And now, guys.”
My stomach dropped.
I did not pay rent to the landlord. I paid Jeremy and his mom.
$ 24,000 in two years – handed over directly directly. I was impressed. But I immediately did not confront him. I called Jeremy instead.
“Hey, honey,” I said as sweet as I could pretend. “When is the rent again?”
“December 28,” no wiser replied.
Perfect.
For the next two weeks I played a dotted wife – deleted, laughed at his jokes, cooked dinner. I even handed him my usual $ 1,000 to 27. The place. But behind the scenes I planned to escape – and my return.
December 28. Jeremy kissed me farewell when he went to work. Ten minutes later I jumped into action.
I packed everything that belonged to me: my clothes, shoes, furniture I paid for, even a coffee maker that was obsessed. Then I headed to the bank.
We had a common account – the one where my paychecks were stored every month. I thought that because they comfortably take my money, I would return a favor.
I emptied the account.
I have already signed rent for a cozy new apartment and paid the rent for the first month – with Jeremy’s money.
And then the big final came.
When he returned home that evening, the place was empty – with the exception of a letter waiting on the kitchen counter. I didn’t hold on to watch the fall. I turned off the phone and went to my new home, where I soon initiated divorce proceedings.
A week later I came across his mother Lorrie in a grocery store. She looked as if she hadn’t slept in days.
“Nancy, please,” she said, “just listen to me.”
“Explain what, Lorrie?” I gave off. “How did you and your son chapter my rent for two years? How did you sit at my dining table every Sunday and asked for grandchildren while robbing me?”
“We wanted to tell you -“
“When? After a baby after another year of mortgage funding?”
She invited in front of me, wrote the guilt all over her face. “Jeremy is a mess,” she murmured. “Drinking, not eating …”
“Funny how karma works,” I replied coldly. Then I leaned.
“There’s an agreement: you let me finish your shopping. Then you go home and tell your son that if they don’t agree with each divorce period – including a complete repayment of interest – I give fees against you both.”
Her eyes spread. “You wouldn’t be …”
“Try me,” I said with a smile. “And Lorrie? The butterscotch cake you loved so much? Let’s say that the secret ingredient was not love.”
Three months later I sat in my new apartment, finished the divorce and checked my hand. Jeremy agreed with everything. Cherry above? Message from my friend Taylor:
“He just saw your former. He looks miserable. Lorrie sells his place and moved to Florida. The surroundings will not be the same without her weekly drama!”
I laughed and picked up the glass to my reflection.
Jeremy tried to call that night 27 times. We didn’t pick up.
Blocked.
His mom also sent. Blocked.
And when the news turned from mutual friends, they warned me that Jeremy was spiraling and trembling about how I “stole his money”, I couldn’t help but smiled.
Because for two years I was their fool. But not.
Every woman outside: Trust your instincts. If something feels off, do not solve it aside.
Because when a person thinks you can play you – make sure you are ten steps ahead.
Let them underestimate them. Then regret them.
Some people call it ruthless.
I call it justice.
In the end, I not only left the relationship – I left a lie. For two years I was deceived, used and manipulated. But when I discovered the truth, I took back check.
The revenge I was looking for was not just about retribution – it was about the regeneration of my strength, my dignity and my future. Jeremy and his mother might have thought they could overcome me, but in the end I played them.
I learned that sometimes justice does not come in the form of a courtroom – sometimes it comes in the form of a woman who already refuses to be a pawn. So every reading: If something feels bad, believe the intestines. And never forget: Karma has a way to catch up with those who think they can get away with it.
What might seem ruthless for some is simply a necessary step to return what is right. And without them I will be fine.