y Ex-husband Got Our House, Car and All Our Money After Divorce – I Laughed Because That Was Exactly What I Planned
Nicole surprisingly consents to give Mike everything in their divorce after a tense marriage characterized by his fixation with worldly wealth. However, as Mike celebrates his “victory,” Nicole’s laughing betrays a covert plot in progress. Mike is unaware that she is going to make her last move.‘
I looked like the defeated ex-wife as I left the lawyer’s office, my shoulders hunched and my face expressionless. It was raining heavily, and the dismal sky reflected my mood, or at least the one I wanted everyone to believe I was in.
I was buzzing inside. As I made my way to the elevator, my palms gripped the chilly steel door handle. There was nobody. Excellent.
With a gentle ping, the elevator door closed behind me, and I burst out laughing as soon as I was by myself. It sprang from deep within like champagne that has finally been uncorked; it was not anything I had planned.
It grew stronger the more I considered what I had just done, until I was laughing uncontrollably on the elevator.
If someone had seen me at that moment, they would have assumed that I had finally lost it and had lost my mind from all the stress, but this was only the beginning. Everything was coming together just right.
Mike could have the savings, the car, and the house. That was precisely what I desired. The nicest part was that he believed he had won. He had no idea what was going to happen.
I gathered myself when the elevator abruptly halted. I looked at my image on the mirrored wall of the elevator: unkempt hair, weary eyes, and a small smile that was still on my lips. I didn’t give a damn. It was going to be enjoyable.
A couple weeks prior to that…
Years had passed since Mike and I had been happy, but it wasn’t your typical breakup. Mike was fixated on his appearance. He was all about wearing only designer clothing, owning the largest house on the block, and having ostentatious cars.
I had been playing my part for too long, and it was all a performance. The fissures had begun to emerge, and as the disputes increased in frequency, I realized that the inevitable was imminent.
The problem is that I didn’t find the divorce frightening. I knew exactly how this would turn out because I knew Mike.
He had little interest in keeping the marriage intact. He wanted to win, win the money, win the divorce, win the house.
I really wanted to get away from this ostentatious way of living. However, that did not imply that I would allow him to defraud me either. I would therefore give Mike what he desired, but with a fishhook-sharp catch.
It took place on Tuesday. Once more, Mike arrived home late. He barged in while I was in the kitchen, feigning to browse through my phone without looking up.
“We need to talk.”
I sighed, my voice scarcely concealing the boredom. “What now?”
I could almost feel the frustration pouring from him as he smashed his keys on the counter. When things didn’t go his way at work, he always got like this, and I was the easiest target, of course.
“I’m done,” he murmured in a tight, quiet voice. “I want a divorce.”
I gave him a blink. At last. I nodded slowly as if it were taking in the information, but in reality, I had spent weeks getting ready for this.
“Okay,” was all I said.
He scowled, obviously surprised. “Is that all? Not a fight? “No pleading?”
I gave a shrug. “What’s the point?”
For a moment, he appeared perplexed, as if I had deflated him. He was anticipating opposition and thought I would beg him to stay.
All I had to do was make sure he had enough rope to hang himself.
The divorce proceedings were just as terrible as I had anticipated. Mike laid out all of his requirements as we sat across from one another in a sterile conference room with attorneys on either side. He seemed to be reading from a grocery list—the savings, the house, and the automobile.
He had a smug little smile on his face the whole time, as if he believed I would burst into tears at any second.
I answered, “Fine,” hardly paying attention. “You can have it all.”
I got a glance from my lawyer that indicated, “Are you sure?” However, I simply nodded.
Mike blinked. “Wait, what?”
“You can have it,” I said. I only want my personal belongings, nothing else.
He appeared astonished. You don’t want the house, do you? or the cash?”
“Nope,” I leaned back in my chair and muttered. “It’s all yours.”
His astonishment soon turned to joy. Fantastic. After that, spend this afternoon packing your things. There should be plenty of time because it’s not much. Mike looked at his timepiece. “I’ll expect you to be out by six.”
“No problem,” was my response.
His chest swelled as if he had won the lottery, and he sat up taller. I also gave him time to think.
And that reminds me of the day I couldn’t stop laughing as I entered the elevator in the lawyer’s office building.
I took out my phone as soon as I got out of the elevator. I composed a brief message as my fingers briefly lingered over the screen: I’m going to the house to pack up my belongings. When it’s time to initiate contact, I’ll give you a call.
I grinned and pushed send. The real fun is about to start.
It was not as difficult as I had anticipated to pack up the house. I only wanted a few personal belongings, mainly stuff that brought back memories that Mike hadn’t ruined. The house always felt more like his than mine, and it was too large for the two of us nonetheless.
I picked up the phone to make the call while I was taping up the final package. Barbara, my mother, picked up on the second ring.
I said, “Hey,” in a casual tone. “It’s time.”
After a moment of silence, Mom’s recognizable, direct voice emerged. “At last. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for.
Mom didn’t like Mike. The day I introduced them, she saw right through his ostentatious façade. The best thing, though? This house was purchased with her assistance. Mike believed he had scored a lot on it because of her, and now he was about to lose it because of her.
I hung up, looking around with a weird sensation of relief. I had had enough of acting.
My phone rang the following morning when I was preparing breakfast in my tiny new flat. As Mike’s name appeared on the screen, I grinned.
“Hello?” I said pleasantly.
“You set me up!” Mike’s voice was so angry that it was almost foaming.
Leaning on the counter, I grabbed a piece of toast and put the phone on speaker. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”
He spat, “Your mother!” “I have her in my house! Everything has been taken over by her.
I responded, “Oh, right,” as I bit into my toast. “Do you recall the contract we signed when she provided the down payment? The one that permits her to reside there for as long as she desires and whenever she pleases?”
He paused for a long time, and I could almost hear his mind working. I could picture his expression as reality set in.
The temptation of a luxury house had blinded him to the fine print, and he had signed that paper years ago.
“You! You betrayed me! It’s not over yet. I’ll get my attorneys—”
I heard Mom’s voice in the background, harsh and cutting through the phone before he could finish. “Get your feet off that coffee table, Michael! And quit hoarding the remote control!”
The sound sounded muted, as though Mike had tried to whisper while he was away from the phone. “Barbara, this is my house—”
“Oh, hush,” Mom said, raising her voice. “It’s as much my house as yours. In addition, why are there so many inexpensive snacks? Are you able to buy for groceries? “I can’t survive on frozen meals!”
I struggled to suppress my laughter by biting my lip. Mike muttered something unintelligible, his annoyance barely controlled, but I heard her again before he could say anything more.
“And shut off that television! Do you really think I want to spend my days listening to that bullshit? At the very least, turn off those absurd auto programs if you’re going to watch them.
Before the phone abruptly turned off, there was a loud crash and more muttering. I sat down at the table and took a deep breath while grinning.
Never has freedom tasted so good.
