I stepped out of the lawyer’s office, a mixture of emotions swirling inside me. My ex-husband, Mike, had just been granted everything he wanted in the divorce – the house, the car, and all our savings. But as I walked away from the building, a sly smile spread across my face. I had a secret, one that would change everything.
The elevator doors closed behind me, and I let out a laugh, the sound echoing off the walls. It was a laugh of triumph, of knowing that I had outsmarted Mike. He thought he had won, but little did he know, I had been playing a long game.
A few weeks earlier, Mike and I had been sitting in that same lawyer’s office, negotiating the terms of our divorce. Mike was obsessed with material wealth, and he wanted it all. The house, the car, the savings – he was determined to take everything. But I had a plan.
I agreed to give him everything, but what he didn’t know was that my mother, Barbara, had helped us buy the house. She had given us the down payment, and in return, we had signed an agreement that allowed her to live in the house whenever she wanted. Mike had been so blinded by his desire for wealth that he had never even read the fine print.
As I walked out of the elevator, I pulled out my phone and sent a message to my mother. “It’s time,” I wrote. She knew exactly what I meant.
The next morning, Mike called me, his voice furious. “You set me up!” he shouted. “Your mother is in my house! She’s taken over everything!” I listened patiently, a smile spreading across my face.
“Remember that agreement we signed when Mom gave us the down payment?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral. “The one that lets her live there whenever she wants?” There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I could almost hear the gears turning in Mike’s brain.
He had signed that paper years ago, without even reading it. And now, he was paying the price. My mother was living in the house, and there was nothing Mike could do about it.
As I listened to Mike’s ranting, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. I had outsmarted him, and now he was paying the price. My mother’s voice came on the line, sharp and cutting. “Michael, get your feet off that coffee table! And stop hogging the remote!” I couldn’t help but laugh.
The rest of the conversation was a blur, with Mike trying to argue with my mother and me listening in amusement. Finally, the phone clicked off, and I was left standing in my new apartment, feeling free.
I had played Mike like a fiddle, and now he was paying the price. I smiled to myself, feeling a sense of satisfaction. Revenge was sweet, and I had savored every moment of it.
