After years of a marriage where Mike was obsessed with money and possessions, Nicole shocks everyone by willingly giving up everything during their divorce. Her quiet laughter hints at a carefully crafted plan about to unfold, while Mike basks in what he believes is a victorious “win.” Mike hasn’t yet realized Nicole’s secret strategy is ready to be set in motion.
As I left the lawyer’s office, I looked like the typical defeated ex-wife — shoulders slumped, face blank. Heavy rain poured down, and the gloomy sky matched the image I wanted to project. But inside, I was buzzing with excitement. I walked toward the elevator, my fingers gripping the cold steel handle. Thankfully, no one else was around. I chuckled softly as the elevator doors dinged shut behind me. The laugh escaped suddenly, like champagne bursting from a popped bottle — something I hadn’t planned.
My laughter grew louder as I thought about what I had just done, until I was practically laughing out loud in the elevator like someone who’d finally snapped.
Anyone who saw me would probably have thought I was losing it from stress. But this was only the start. Everything was going exactly as I’d hoped.
Mike could keep the savings, the car, the house. That was exactly what I wanted. The best part? He truly believed he had won. He had no idea what was coming next.
I’d been playing a role for far too long — it was all an act. I knew the end was near; the cracks had started to show, and our fights were getting more frequent.
But I wasn’t afraid of divorce. I knew Mike well enough to predict how it would go.
He had no interest in saving our marriage. No, all he wanted was to win — to win the divorce, the money, the house.
I wanted to walk away from that shallow, materialistic life. But I wasn’t going to let him take advantage of me. So I decided to make him believe he was getting exactly what he wanted — with a twist he wouldn’t expect.
It happened on a Tuesday. As usual, Mike came home late. He stormed in while I was in the kitchen, pretending to scroll through my phone without looking up.
“We need to talk.”
I groaned, barely hiding my disinterest. “What now?”
His irritation filled the room as he slammed his keys on the counter. When work wasn’t going well, he always acted like this, and I was the obvious target for his anger.
His voice was tense. “I’m done. I want a divorce.”
Calm on the outside, but prepared, I looked up at him. I’d spent weeks getting ready for this moment. “Fine,” I said casually. He looked surprised. “That’s it? No fight? No begging?”
I shrugged. “What’s the point?” He seemed stunned, as if I had stolen the argument from him. He clearly expected me to beg him to stay. But I was just giving him enough rope to hang himself.
The divorce talks were as dreadful as I expected. Mike rattled off his demands as we sat across from each other in a cold conference room, lawyers on both sides. He listed the savings, the house, the car like they were groceries.
That smug little smile never left his face, as if he knew I was about to break down in tears.
“All right,” I murmured, barely paying attention. “You can have everything.”
My lawyer glanced at me, questioning, “Are you sure?” I just nodded. Mike blinked. “What? You want to give me everything?”
“Yes,” I said. “I only want my personal things. Nothing else.”
He stared, shocked. “You don’t want the house? Or the money?”
“Nope,” I leaned back. “It’s all yours.”
His surprise turned into joy. “Great. Then spend the afternoon packing your things. There shouldn’t be much.” He checked his watch. “I expect you gone by six.”
“No problem,” I replied.
He straightened up, chest puffed out like he’d hit the jackpot. And I let him believe it.
That brings us back to the elevator, where I finally let out a giggle.
I grabbed my phone as soon as the doors closed behind me. After a moment of hesitation, I typed a quick message: I’m heading to the house to pack my things. I’ll call when it’s time to make contact.
I smiled and hit send. The real fun was just beginning.
Packing up the house wasn’t as hard as I thought. I only wanted a few personal items — mostly memories Mike hadn’t destroyed. The house never felt like mine anyway; it was too big, too cold.
As I closed the last box, I dialed my mother, Barbara. It took two rings before she picked up.
“Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Now’s the time.”
After a brief pause, Mom’s usual blunt voice came through. “Finally. I’ve been waiting for this day.”
Mom never liked Mike. From the start, she saw right through his flashy act. The best part? She helped us buy the house. Mike was about to lose it all because of her, even though he thought he’d scored a great deal.
I hung up feeling lighter. No more pretending to be someone I wasn’t.
The next morning, while making breakfast in my new apartment, my phone rang. Seeing Mike’s name made me grin.
“Hello?” I answered politely.
“You framed me!” Mike’s voice was furious, shaking almost with rage. I bit into a piece of toast and put the phone on speaker.
“What are you talking about? Sorry?”
“Your mom!” he snarled. “She’s in my house! She’s taken over everything!”
Chewing, I said, “Oh, right. Remember that small contract we signed when she helped with the down payment? The one letting her live there as long as she wants, whenever she wants?”
There was silence — I could almost hear his mind racing. I pictured the moment he realized what was happening.
Too dazzled by the fancy house to read the fine print carefully, he’d signed it years ago.
“You tricked me! This isn’t over. I’ll get my lawyers—”
Before he could finish, my mother’s strong voice cut through the phone.
“You better leave that coffee table alone, Michael! And stop hoarding the remote!”
Mike muttered something, probably turning away from the phone. “This is my house, Barbara—”
“Oh, hush,” Mom snapped. “It’s my home too. And that food? Terrible. Do you even know how to grocery shop? I’m not living on frozen dinners!”
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Mike grumbled on, trying to control his frustration, but Mom kept interrupting.
“And get rid of that awful TV! Do you really want me listening to that garbage all day? At least turn down the volume if you watch those silly car shows!”
The call ended with a loud crash and groans. I sat back smiling, taking a deep breath.
Freedom never felt so sweet.