I Came Home to See My Furniture Put up for Grabs — My Ex-husband’s Petty Revenge Backfired Spectacularly

After Brendan, my husband, and I decided to split, he turned into a completely different person overnight. The man I once knew, the one I shared years of my life with, had vanished altogether.

In his place stood someone bitter and spiteful.

A couple arguing | Source: Midjourney

A couple arguing | Source: Midjourney

“You’re complaining about how I behave? About how I speak?” Brendan shouted.

“I’m just saying that you need to calm down when you’re talking to me. Screaming won’t make your point come across better,” I said, holding my head.

“Oh, please, Gina,” he bellowed louder. “You made me this way! All of your ridiculous demands and constant whining. Please, just go live your life.”

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

And so I did.

But as the divorce was in process, Brendan and I tried to sort out our things, ready to make a clean break.

“Just let me pack these things up, Gina,” Brendan said one day as he was going through my bookshelf.

“You’ll just take my things with you,” I countered. “I have to settle my own things first.”

“Suit yourself,” he said.

An angry woman standing in front of a bookshelf | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman standing in front of a bookshelf | Source: Midjourney

But things only got uglier. And the emotional rollercoaster had me in a constant state of nausea and uneasiness. So, I decided that I would spend the weekend at my parents’ house to clear my head.

“Yeah, run away to your parents,” Brendan said snidely as I packed an overnight bag.

“They’re better than you,” I said, walking out the door.

An angry woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

And honestly? It was the right call. I needed space to process everything, including the fact that I was going to be alone for the first time in twelve years. As much as Brendan and I needed to be apart, I couldn’t see my future clearly.

I also just wanted my parents to baby me for the weekend.

“Oh, Gina,” my mother said as she took out a tray of delicious roast lamb. “All you need to do is eat and rest. Whatever you want to eat, just tell me and I’ll make it. And if you want anything from the store, just tell Dad. He’ll do a quick run for you.”

A tray of food | Source: Midjourney

A tray of food | Source: Midjourney

I exhaled slowly. I was exactly where I needed to be.

“Are you sure a divorce is the way to go?” my father asked me over dinner.

“Yes,” I said sadly. “I think that if there was a time to reconcile, it was a long time ago. And we definitely missed it. Brendan and I can’t see eye-to-eye anymore. I don’t think that there’s any more love left.”

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

“You do what you need to do, baby,” my mother said. “If your mental health is screaming for a clean break, then that’s exactly what you need to do.”

I allowed myself to take long walks, taking Pippy, my parents’ dog, with me. I just wanted to clear my head and allow myself the space I needed to breathe.

“You’re doing the right thing,” I told myself. “There’s nothing wrong with a fresh start.”

A woman walking a dog | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking a dog | Source: Midjourney

But as I pulled into our driveway on Monday morning, ready to find Brendan and his things gone, I found something even more shocking.

All my furniture, everything that I had collected from before I met Brendan and some things while we were together, was scattered all over the lawn. A large, hand-painted sign that read “Free Stuff!” stood proudly in front of the chaos, inviting anyone passing by to help themselves to my belongings.

Furniture scattered on a lawn | Source: Midjourney

Furniture scattered on a lawn | Source: Midjourney

“What the actual hell is this?” I muttered, slamming the car door shut.

This just couldn’t be real. I stared at my coffee table, the couch I found at a flea market, and even my grandmother’s old rocking chair. All of it, just sitting there, baking in the sun, waiting to be snatched by strangers.

I kicked the sign so that it lay flat. And then I pulled out my phone, my hands shaking wildly as I dialed Brendan. The phone rang three times before he finally picked up.

A woman holding a phone and frowning | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a phone and frowning | Source: Midjourney

“Hey, what’s up, Gina?” he answered, his voice casual, almost smug.

“What’s up?” I echoed. “What’s up?”

“Yeah, that’s what I asked,” he said.

“Are you kidding me? Why is all my furniture on the lawn? Are you absolutely out of your mind?”

There was a pause before he replied.

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

“You were going to sue for all my money anyway,” he said. “I heard you on the phone with someone. I know that you wanted everything. Or at least half of everything! So you might as well know how it feels to lose what’s yours.”

I was speechless.

Sure, I had thought about taking him for a ride and having my share of his money, but the weekend away with my parents taught me to just let it go.

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

“You’re absolutely unbelievable,” I finally managed to say. “You think this is going to solve anything? You’re just making things worse for yourself.”

He scoffed loudly.

“Whatever. It’s your problem now. Maybe you should charge people for your things instead of letting them take it for free.”

I wanted to scream, but I knew that it wouldn’t do any good. Brendan had made up his mind, and like any dog with a bone, there was no reasoning with him.

An angry man on the phone | Source: Midjourney

An angry man on the phone | Source: Midjourney

I hung up the phone and looked at objects from my life scattered across the lawn. There was no way that I could haul all the furniture back inside by myself. Defeated and frustrated, I kicked the bedside table that I had gotten and repainted months ago.

As it hit the ground, I heard a jingling noise.

“What now?” I sighed, crouching down to open the drawer.

Hand-painted bedside tables outside | Source: Midjourney

Hand-painted bedside tables outside | Source: Midjourney

Inside, I found something that made me smirk despite my anger.

“Stupid Brendan,” I said, seeing that he had forgotten to take his things out of the bedside table.

Nestled among the loose change, random pens, and receipts was Brendan’s father’s watch. It was a family heirloom that he loved and cherished and barely wore for fear of losing or breaking it. It had also been passed down through generations, finally landing with Brendan.

A vintage watch | Source: Midjourney

A vintage watch | Source: Midjourney

But now, I had it hostage.

“Checkmate,” I said to myself.

I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction as I tucked the watch into my pocket. After all, he was the one who had put it out there for free. I wasn’t stealing anything.

Then, I texted my friend group, asking everyone who was available to come and help me take everything back into the house.

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

“Brendan is the worst, Gina,” my friend, Jenny, said holding a lamp. “This is a new low.”

“Yeah, I agree with you there,” I said. “But don’t worry, I’ve got a way to get back at him.”

I told her all about the watch and how I had it safely tucked away in my car. I knew that it was just a matter of time before Brendan realized that the watch wasn’t with him.

A woman holding a standing lamp | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a standing lamp | Source: Midjourney

Later that evening, as I was arranging the last of the furniture, my phone buzzed. It was him.

“Hey, Gina,” he said. “I think I might have left something important behind. Can I come by and grab it?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, grabbing another slice of pizza from the box in front of me.

“Please,” he said. “It’s just the bedside tables.”

A box of pizza | Source: Midjourney

A box of pizza | Source: Midjourney

“Look, the neighbors came over and took a few things. The bedside tables are gone, too. But if you’re polite enough, I’m sure Cathy will sell it back to you.”

There was a long pause.

“Gina, it’s my dad’s watch. My granddad’s watch. I really need it back.”

I let the silence stretch out for a moment before saying anything.

“I see. Well, like I said, it’s with Cathy. But I’m sure she’ll be reasonable. You know, for the right price.”

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

He knew I was bluffing. I could hear it in his voice. But there was no way that he could prove it, and I wasn’t about to let him off the hook easily. Nope. Brendan needed to fight for it.

“How much?” he asked.

“How much do you think it’s worth?” I asked. “A few hundred dollars, maybe?”

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just get it back.”

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

“I’ll do my best, but no promises.”

After hanging up, I held the watch and turned it over in my hands. If we had a son, he would have been handed the watch. But thankfully, we were splitting before we had a chance to think about kids.

The next morning, Brendan showed up while I was sitting on the porch and drinking a cup of coffee.

“Here,” he said, giving me an envelope. “$500. But you know how priceless it is.”

A woman sitting on a porch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a porch | Source: Midjourney

I nodded.

“Thanks. You can leave now,” I said.

“I’ll get in touch with you about the divorce. My lawyer has some things to discuss with us.”

“Cool,” I said simply.

Brendan did a double-take, but he took the watch from me and walked away slowly, almost as if he wanted to say something but just couldn’t get the words out.

A man walking down the driveway | Source: Midjourney

A man walking down the driveway | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

In-Law Billed Me $695 for Moth Damage after Using My House like a Storage Unit – I Gave Her a Reality Check

For five years, Andy and Sarah had given up their guest bedroom, turning it into a storage room for her parents’ belongings. But once the couple discovered that they were pregnant, they asked the older couple to remove their things, causing unnecessary friction and a surprise reward.

Five years ago, my in-laws just wanted to downsize their house. So, they set out to look for the perfect little house just for the two of them.

“We have too much space and too many things,” my father-in-law, Greg, said.

A cozy living room | Source: Midjourney

A cozy living room | Source: Midjourney

So, naturally, they asked if they could store some of their stuff in our house for a while.

“It’s just the things that we want to keep, darling,” Greg told my wife, Sarah.

We both didn’t mind it, and we had a guest room that we didn’t use.

A stack of cardboard boxes | Source: Midjourney

A stack of cardboard boxes | Source: Midjourney

“Sure, Dad,” my wife said. “The guest room is all yours temporarily.”

The key word here is temporarily.

But guess what? They never took their stuff back. Instead, they just kept bringing more.

A growing stack of boxes | Source: Midjourney

A growing stack of boxes | Source: Midjourney

For a while, Sarah and I used to joke about the guest room and how it had turned into a storage unit in our own home.

A person using a vacuum cleaner | Source: Midjourney

A person using a vacuum cleaner | Source: Midjourney

Read the full story here.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My MIL Demanded $600 for Walking & Feeding Our Dog While I Was in Labor – I Agreed, but Only on One Condition

When I came home from the hospital with my newborn, I noticed a note on the table and assumed it was a kind message from my mother-in-law. Instead, it said she was charging us $600 for taking care of our dog while I was in labor. My husband promised to talk to her, but I had a better idea.

A few days before I went into labor, I was sprawled out on the couch, trying to manage the dull ache in my lower back that kept growing sharper by the minute.

A woman in her 30s, 9 months pregnant, sits on a couch looking worried and uncomfortable | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 30s, 9 months pregnant, sits on a couch looking worried and uncomfortable | Source: Midjourney

My golden retriever, Rich, rested his head on my lap, his big brown eyes watching me like he knew something was up. I scratched behind his ears, grateful for his calm presence.

“Jake!” I called my husband, my voice strained as another wave of discomfort rolled through me.

Jake was in the kitchen, stacking turkey and cheese onto a sandwich, his eyebrows crunched.

“Yeah, babe?” he replied, not even looking up.

A man in his 30s making a sandwich in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A man in his 30s making a sandwich in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

I sighed. “We need to figure out what to do about Rich while we’re at the hospital. Can we ask your mom to help out?”

We had a scheduled induction the following day because my baby was a week overdue, and I was ready to be done with this mess.

Jake walked over, sandwich in hand, and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead. “Don’t stress, Doris. Mom loves Rich. She’ll handle it.”

A golden retriever in a home | Source: Pexels

A golden retriever in a home | Source: Pexels

That was my husband. He shrugged off almost anything with an easy solution. His optimism was one of the reasons I loved him, but I’m not going to lie, it was also one of the things that often grated on my nerves.

But that might just be a product of the hormones and my discomfort. “Alright,” I said, leaning back into the cushions. “Just make sure she knows it’s only for a couple of days.”

Later that night, Jake called Abigail, his mom, and explained the situation. She agreed without hesitation. He hung up, grinning. “She said she’s happy to help. Problem solved.”

A man holding a phone | Source: Pexels

A man holding a phone | Source: Pexels

I guessed that would have to be good enough for me.

Jake and I packed our hospital bag that evening, and the next morning, we said goodbye to Rich. By the door, I knelt to scratch his fluffy head.

“Be a good boy for Grandma, okay?” He wagged his tail like he understood.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Abigail waved me off with a smile. “I just wish I could be at the hospital.”

A woman in her 60s waving goodbye in a living room with a smile | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 60s waving goodbye in a living room with a smile | Source: Midjourney

That had been a slight issue. We had asked that our family not visit or accompany us to the hospital. My pregnancy had been rough enough, and I just needed my husband during labor.

If something went wrong, I didn’t want anyone else there either.

Abigail said she understood, but maybe she was still a bit salty about it.

“Mom, you know our wishes,” Jake intervened, smiling to take the sting out of his words.

“I know, I know,” she said. “You modern kids! Now, go have my grandchild.”

“Thank you, Abigail,” I said, and with that, we went out the door.

A pregnant woman in her 30s waving goodbye with a small smile | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman in her 30s waving goodbye with a small smile | Source: Midjourney

***

I never got to be induced. My water broke just as we were entering the hospital… and honestly, we, women, need to talk about labor with each other and our daughters more often because this was hell.

I spent hours gripping the hospital bed rails like they were the only thing tethering me to reality. Between the contractions and the endless poking and prodding from nurses, I thought I might lose my mind.

Jake was by my side the whole time, holding my hand and trying his best to keep me calm, though he looked like he was one more contraction away from passing out himself.

A woman in her 30s in a hospital looking in pain while in labor | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 30s in a hospital looking in pain while in labor | Source: Midjourney

But all the pain and the exhaustion melted away the moment they placed my son in my arms. He was tiny, wrinkly, and absolutely perfect.

Jake and I cried like idiots. It was a marvel that we’d brought this little person into the world. For three days, the hospital was our bubble of joy.

When we were finally allowed to go home, I felt relieved. We carefully carried our child through the hospital doors toward the parking lot.

A parking lot | Source: Pexels

A parking lot | Source: Pexels

Jake called Abigail to tell her we had been discharged, and she said she was going to give us a few days to get settled before meeting the baby. That was so kind of her!

As we pulled up to our driveway, I thought about settling on our couch and getting Rich to meet his new little brother. It was going to be perfect… yeah, no.

The first thing I noticed when we walked into the kitchen was a folded piece of paper on the table. My heart fluttered, thinking Abigail had left us a sweet “Welcome Home” note.

A folded piece of paper on a kitchen table | Source: Midjourney

A folded piece of paper on a kitchen table | Source: Midjourney

I carefully shifted the baby in my arms and opened it, already imagining something like “Congratulations on your new bundle of joy!”

Instead, the note read:

“You owe me $600 for feeding and walking Rich. My time costs money. You have my bank details.”

For a moment, I just stared at it, sure I was reading it wrong. But nope. It was real. My mother-in-law was demanding money for watching our dog.

It’s not that I didn’t want to pay for services like that, but she was family AND she never mentioned charging us.

A woman's hand holding a piece of paper with a note | Source: Midjourney

A woman’s hand holding a piece of paper with a note | Source: Midjourney

“Jake,” I called, my voice sharp. He was in the living room, setting down the car seat. “You might want to come see this.”

He walked in, took one look at the note, and groaned. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” I said, waving the paper in his face. “Your mom’s demanding money for taking care of Rich while I was pushing your child out of my body.”

Jake ran a hand through his hair, already looking defeated. “I’ll talk to her,” he muttered.

A man in his 30s looking exasperated, running his hand through his hair in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A man in his 30s looking exasperated, running his hand through his hair in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“No,” I snapped, stopping him in his tracks. “I’ll handle this.” My mind was already coming up with an idea, and it didn’t involve quietly paying up.

A week later, Abigail came over to see the baby. She strolled in with a big smile, kissed Jake’s cheek in greeting, and began cooing over my son like the most doting grandmother.

“Oh, he’s precious,” she said, cradling him in her arms. “He has Jake’s nose.”

A baby's face | Source: Pexels

A baby’s face | Source: Pexels

For a moment, I almost believed she was here just to see her grandson. But as she handed the baby back to me, she dropped the act.

“So,” she said, brushing her hands together. “When can I expect my money? I’ve waited long enough.”

I stared at her, holding my baby close. My smile didn’t waver. “Of course, Abigail. I’ll pay you—on one condition.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Condition? What condition?”

I walked over to the computer desk we kept in the area between the kitchen and the living room and pulled out a folder I’d prepared earlier. I’d spent the past few days going through every instance when Jake and I had done something for her.

A set of folders arranged on a desk | Source: Pexels

A set of folders arranged on a desk | Source: Pexels

Every favor, every single dollar we ever spent on her (excluding gifts) was all there in black and white.

“Well,” I said, flipping it open, “since you’re charging us for your services, I figured it’s only fair we do the same.”

I laid the folder on the table and slid it toward her. Abigail leaned over, her face tight with suspicion. “What is this?” she asked.

“You can think of it as an itemized invoice,” I said, keeping my voice light. “You know, like professionals do.”

Her face went pale as she grabbed the paper and scanned what I’d written.

A woman in her 60s looking surprised while holding a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 60s looking surprised while holding a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

“Let’s see,” I began, tapping the paper. “Helping you move houses last year? That’s $800. That’s cheaper than regular movers, so you can consider it a family discount. Then, there’s the time we paid for your car repair when your transmission failed. That was $1,200. And the free babysitting I did for your neighbor’s kids at your request? That’s around $600.”

Two people moving boxes | Source: Pexels

Two people moving boxes | Source: Pexels

Abigail’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “This is ridiculous!” she finally sputtered. “You can’t charge me for things family does for each other!”

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Exactly,” I said, my tone sharp. “Family helps each other out without expecting payment. At least, that’s what I thought.”

A woman in her 30s holding a newborn in a blanket, talking and waving her hand | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 30s holding a newborn in a blanket, talking and waving her hand | Source: Midjourney

She tried to argue, but her words came out jumbled. “But… but this is different! I had to rearrange my schedule to take care of Rich!”

“And I had to rearrange my entire life to have your grandchild,” I shot back, shrugging. “So if you want to talk about fair compensation, I think we’re more than even.”

Abigail’s face turned beet red. She stood there for a moment, staring at me like she couldn’t believe what was happening. Then, without another word, she spun around and stormed out of the house, slamming the door so hard the baby started to fuss.

A woman in her 60s, her face blushed and pouting, looking angry in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 60s, her face blushed and pouting, looking angry in a living room | Source: Midjourney

Jake, who had been watching silently from the kitchen, walked over and shook his head, a small grin tugging at his lips. “No one should mess with my wife,” he said, wrapping me in his arms and kissing my cheek.

I couldn’t help but laugh as we pulled apart. “You got that right,” I replied teasingly, sinking onto the couch with the baby.

Rich trotted over, his tail wagging, and rested his head on my knee. I scratched his ears, looking down at the little bundle in my arms.

A golden retriever with a lolling tongue | Source: Pexels

A golden retriever with a lolling tongue | Source: Pexels

At that moment, I felt at peace. Abigail might not have learned her lesson, but at least she wouldn’t be bothering us about that $600 again. And if she ever did, well… I still had the folder.

Let her try me.

A woman in her 30s holding a newborn wrapped in a blanket, sitting on a couch with her husband smiling in the background | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 30s holding a newborn wrapped in a blanket, sitting on a couch with her husband smiling in the background | Source: Midjourney

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