It was an ordinary afternoon when e -mail appeared in my delivered post office, his subject liner both mysterious and strangely formal: “Invoice for excellent expenses.”
First I thought it was spam – until I saw the sender’s name: Stephanie. My ex -husband’s new wife. I clicked open to the e-mail, half expecting to find some kind of misunderstanding or joke, but instead I met a list of such eccentric demands,
I couldn’t believe what I read. Expenditure? Charged me? What exactly? It wasn’t long before I realized that I was going to enter the bizarre game of emotional and financial chess that I had never seen.
I never imagined to receive an e-mail from my ex-husband’s new wife, let alone one with an account connected. The list of “expenditure caused me” left me without words – he was incredibly courageous. But there was no way I left her ridiculous claim that he would not be awake.
Matt and I were divorced for two years and I thought we both moved on. But then his new wife Stephanie decided to charge me for all the things she believed I had destroyed in Matt’s life.
I didn’t want to pay her one penny.
Instead, I sent her an answer she wouldn’t forget in a hurry.
Since my divorce I have been enjoying my life myself. My cozy house, my peaceful routines and the peace that fills my days, mean everything to me.
After the divorce, I focused on the reconstruction of my life – something I should have done long before we have ever married.
Looking back, it is clear why our marriage did not work. Matt and I were complete opposites where it mattered most.
I wanted a partner, but just wanted someone to take care of him. It was too clear when the honeymoon phase ended.
We met through a mutual friend and initially Matt seemed perfect – he had a good job, a charming smile and looked responsible.
Dating him felt like a fairy tale. But when I look back, it was all the facade. I still remember when I first visited Matt’s place. It was without staining, with everything in perfect order.
“Wow, you’re so organized,” I said, really impressed.
He smiled and said, “I try to keep things tidy. It’s how I am.”
If I knew better.
In the first months he was on his best behavior – romantic data, sweet texts, thoughtful gestures that made me believe that I found a perfect match.
But after we got married and moved together, reality hit.
The first red flag? Its wet towel on the floor.
I laughed first.
“Hey, Matte, don’t forget the towel,” I said, picking him up.
“Sorry, kitten,” he said with an upset smile. “I will try to be more cautious.”
SPOILER CAUTION: It has never changed.
Soon they weren’t just towels. Dirty clothes were accumulated on the bed, the dishes stacked in the sink, and the half -finished projects filled every surface.
I would remind him, apologized and nothing would ever change.
I remember sitting on the couch one evening and watching him playing video games and thinking, is it really my life?
Life with Matt felt like living with a teenager.
Things only got worse when he lost his job. He was released for missing deadlines and skipping meetings.
“They were too strict anyway,” he said with the shoulders. “I’ll find something better.” But no.
Instead, he started a side concert that barely earned money. Meanwhile, I treated all accounts, housework and, honestly, his whole life.
I booked the doctor’s meeting, reminded him to call his mother, and even rewrote his CV because he couldn’t bother.
One night, after the next clutter, I found that I was googling “how to make a responsible adult” at 2:00. That’s when it hit me.
I wasn’t his wife – I was his mother.
This realization ended everything.
Our divorce was easy, or so I thought. We divided our things, moved out, and that was all.
Matt moved quickly last summer and married a woman named Stephanie. And I’ll tell you, Stephanie is something else.
It is a kind of woman who publishes quotations daily “Queen Energy” on social media-preaching self-love and authorization, but really only hides a lot of petty.
I didn’t deal with her much. The only time we crossed the roads was before their wedding, and let’s say it was unforgettable.
The wedding invitation arrived in my mailbox one morning, which was strange because Matt and I haven’t spoken since the divorce. Maybe Stephanie tried to be polite? Either way, I’m not RSVP’D. There was no way I went.
But Stephanie didn’t stop there.
She called me a week before the wedding. I remember staring at my phone, confused, why her number appeared.
Curiosity got the best of me, so I picked up.
“Hi, Emmo! This is Stephanie,” she said too cheer. “I hope I won’t catch you in the wrong time.”
“Uh … No, I don’t think no,” I said I wasn’t sure where it was. “What’s the matter?”
“Well,” she started, “I wanted to ask a favor. Because you were such a big part of Matt’s life, I thought it would be nice to include some photos of you in the wedding presentation.
I almost dropped the phone. “I’m sorry … what?”
“Oh, and if you could share some details of what Matt likes – his favorite meals, hobbies, such things – it would really help me adapt my promises,” she added.
Was that serious?
“I don’t think it’s appropriate,” I said as politely as I could. “But good luck with your wedding.”
Looking back, it was supposed to be my sign to block her. But I couldn’t help but watch out for a drama from a distance.
From what I heard their wedding was exactly what you would expect from someone like Stephanie – above the summit and full of unnecessary drama.
Of course I did not participate, but friends who gave me crush.
Speech of honest service? Thinly shrouded at me.
“Matt finally found a real partner,” she said, lifting a glass on Stephania. Presentation? It included a strange “before and after” Matt’s life, painting his time with me as boring and inanimate, while Stephanie allegedly brought him joy and color.
It was embarrassing – for her.
When I heard about it, I overturned my eyes, but I thought it was the end of their antiquity. They would move on, just like me.
About a month ago I got e -mail with the subject: Invoice for excellent expenses.
At first I thought it was spam.
But when I opened it, I was completely shocked.
It wasn’t spam – it was a detailed account from Stephanie, supplemented with a table of “expenditure” that she claimed to have caused Matt during my marriage.
I couldn’t believe what I read. Here are some of the things she said: $ 300 for visiting Matt’s eye physician and glasses: “Because you didn’t notice his vision worsened during marriage.”
$ 2,500 for a new wardrobe: “Because his clothes were outdated and unflattering – reflection of neglect.”
$ 200 for therapy: “Do you want to abolish emotional damage caused by lack of support.”
$ 500 for Fitness coach: “After years of ignoring his self -esteem.”
$ 1,000 for a new mattress: “Do you want to replace the one you bought that caused him back pain.”
$ 100 for a course of food planning: “Because he only learned to eat properly after meeting.”
Total? More than $ 5,000.
E -mail ended with a note that she said:
“As his wife, I invested considerably in repair. It’s just fair that you contribute.”
I was impressed.
Was it a joke? Who will send a former wife of his husband such an account? I decided not to leave it. I didn’t pay her, but I definitely talked to it.
First, I began to propose a furious answer, filled with a paragraph of how absurd her e -mail was. But then I thought no, that’s too easy. Let’s do it unforgettable.
So I was creative. I sat down, took a deep breath and began to write a counterattack. Writing was strangely satisfactory.
Here is part of what I sent:
Subject: Reaction to invoice for excellent expenses
Dear Stephanie,
Thank you for your e -mail – well laughed! But I think you missed some details, so I would like to clarify and add some of my own fees.
Let’s start with the appointment of an eye doctor. Funny you raised it! Matt refused to go for years because he didn’t want to “look like a stupid”. I’m glad you finally spoke to it.
Expenditure on the closet? Oh, I remember that well. Matt had a lot of “ironic graphic tees” he loved, including the one who said, “Taco Tuesday is my religion.” I didn’t want to argue with an adult man over his dress.
As far as therapy is concerned, I am all for his self -confidence. I am surprised that he did not start earlier. I hope his therapist helps him with his fear of laying the toilet.
About the mattress-yes, the one with the built-in cup holders. That was Matt’s dream of his “game nights”. I’m sure the new one is a big upgrade. And food planning course? Ms. I did not realize that it was necessary to practice training to find out that vegetables were good for you. Maybe I should have hired a life coach to teach him how to properly load the dishwasher.
Since we are talking about expenditure, I have compiled a counterattack for you: $ 10,000 for management of all household tasks while Matt played video games for five years. $ 15,000 for emotional work, including a reminder to call him his mother, go to the dentist and pay his accounts.
$ 5,000 for lost brain cells from listening to his business ideas – like the application that corresponds to people according to their favorite pizza. Total: $ 30,000.
Due next Friday.
Warm with greeting,
I hit a deputy, but I wasn’t ready yet.
Just for fun I cc’t a few mutual friends.
Within a few hours my phone rang from a hook with calls and messages. “Emmo, this is legendary.” “The frame and I put it in my kitchen!” Of course, Stephanie was not happy. She tried to explain herself, but the more she spoke, the worse it sounded. She said she was just trying to “fix things” and make sure that Matt “left luggage from his past”.
Finally Matt called me.
“Emmo … sorry,” he said with a sigh on the phone. “I had no idea he would do it.”
It was the first excuse I’ve ever received from him.
“Matte,” I replied, “it’s okay. Just make sure you pay the invoice.”
The best part? A few weeks later, at a friend of my friend, someone asked Matt if he ever paid me back for “emotional work”.
He illuminated bright red and left the party early.
Now, whenever the name of Stephanie appears, someone always says, “Oh, do you think with the account?”
And honestly? I don’t regret anything.
Finally, Stephanie’s attempt to pay for my ex -husband’s supposed “upgrades”. My answer was not just about how to stand up for myself – it was about the regeneration of my dignity and showing that I would not let me manipulate or reduce me, no matter how bold or ridiculous their claims were.
Matt’s apology, albeit long ago, was a small victory for me in a situation that was mostly about avoiding responsibility. His inability to meet the partner’s expectations was my burden and his lack of action spoke now. As for Stephanie, she learned a valuable lesson about underestimating me.
But the real victory came to how my answer resonated with others. It has become a reminder that we do not have to accept unfair treatment, no matter who discards it. Now, whenever someone raises Stephanie, someone can think “the one with the account”. As for me, I moved further, more authorized than ever and I wouldn’t change anything.