My ex-husband was ready to start a new chapter, but something about his engagement didn’t sit right with me. A casual conversation at work turned into a revelation I couldn’t ignore. He refused to believe me, so I had to show him the truth—no matter how much it would hurt.
I was sitting at work, though working as a restaurant administrator didn’t leave much time for sitting.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
This was one of those rare moments when the dining area was quiet—no guests asking for special requests, no complaints from the kitchen, no servers rushing over with last-minute problems.
I took a deep breath, savoring the short-lived peace, knowing it wouldn’t last.
My phone buzzed on the counter. I glanced at the screen—Aaron. My ex-husband. Curious, I picked it up and tapped the message.
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A photo loaded. It was David, our son, grinning from ear to ear, holding a giant stuffed animal. The bright lights of an amusement park sparkled behind him.
A warmth spread through me. I was glad Aaron and David were having fun.
Nearby, two waitresses chatted, their voices light and excited. Lindsey held out her hand, her fingers stretched to display a massive diamond ring.
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Claire grabbed Lindsey’s hand, her eyes wide. “That stone is huge! Probably visible from space.”
Lindsey laughed, tilting her hand to catch the light. “I know, right? I got so lucky.”
Claire raised an eyebrow. “Is he rich or something?”
Lindsey smirked. “He’s not a millionaire, but he has money. Enough to buy this, at least.”
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I frowned. Lindsey had been dating Leo, one of our kitchen staff, for over a year. “Aren’t you with Leo?” I asked.
“I am,” Lindsey said, still admiring the ring.
I stared at her. “Since when was Leo rich?”
Lindsey finally looked at me. “Leo isn’t. But my fiancé is. That was Leo’s idea, actually.”
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I blinked. “What?”
“The plan was simple,” Lindsey said. “Find a rich guy, marry him, divorce him in a few months, take the money. Then Leo and I live the good life.” She twirled the ring on her finger. “Halfway there.”
My stomach twisted. “Don’t you think that’s… cruel?”
Lindsey shrugged. “I don’t love my fiancé, so no.”
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“But he might love you,” I said. “He proposed, didn’t he?”
Lindsey waved me off. “That’s his problem. He fell for the fact that I’m younger.”
I stared at her, unable to believe what I was hearing.
I had married young and for love. Back then, Aaron and I believed love was enough.
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But as the years passed, we realized we were too different. We wanted different things, handled problems in opposite ways, and saw the world through separate lenses.
Letting go had been painful, but we knew it was the right decision. Even now, I had no regrets.
Aaron was still a good friend, and most importantly, he was a wonderful father to David.
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That evening, when I got home, Aaron was already at the door with David. My son bounced inside, his face glowing with excitement.
“Mom! We went on the biggest roller coaster! I wasn’t even scared!” he said, barely pausing for breath.
I smiled, ruffling his hair. “Sounds amazing.”
Aaron, however, stood stiffly behind him. His expression was tense.
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“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“We need to talk,” he said. “Privately.”
I nodded and led him to the kitchen.
We sat down at the table. Aaron ran a hand through his hair, his fingers drumming lightly against the table.
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Something was off. His shoulders were tense, his gaze shifting, like he wasn’t sure how to start.
I leaned forward. “Aaron, you’re scaring me. Did something happen?”
He exhaled sharply. “No, nothing bad. Actually… it’s serious. But in a good way.”
I frowned. “Serious in a good way? What do you mean?”
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Aaron hesitated. Then, in one breath, he said, “I’m getting married again.”
I blinked. “What? That’s great!” I smiled, trying to reassure him. “I don’t see why you were so worried.”
Aaron shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I thought you’d be upset.”
“Upset? Aaron, I’m really happy for you. You deserve to be happy.”
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Relief softened his face. He nodded. “Thanks. I’ll tell David later. I wanted you to know first.”
“Of course. I’m sure he’ll be happy for you too,” I said.
Aaron smiled, more relaxed now.
“So… who is she?” I asked. “Are you going to show me a picture? How did you two meet?”
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Aaron chuckled. “I knew you’d ask.” He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. “I came prepared.”
He turned the screen toward me. My stomach dropped. I couldn’t hide my shock.
“That’s Lindsey,” I said, my voice flat. “One of my waitresses.”
Aaron shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. That’s why I was worried about your reaction.”
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I looked back at the picture, my mind racing. “How did this even happen?”
Aaron scratched the back of his neck. “I met her when I picked up David from the restaurant. Later, I saw her on a dating app. We started talking… and here we are.”
I swallowed hard. My hands clenched under the table. I couldn’t keep this to myself.
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“Aaron, I need to tell you something,” I said carefully. “And it’s not good.”
Aaron’s face tensed. “If this is about the age difference, I already know. Eleven years. It doesn’t bother us.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that. Just today, Lindsey was talking about her fiancé. I didn’t realize she meant you.”
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Aaron’s brow furrowed. “What are you saying?”
“She said she’s marrying you just to divorce you and take your money.”
Silence. Then, suddenly, Aaron’s expression darkened. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you!” he shouted. “I can’t believe you’re making this up!”
“Aaron, it’s the truth!” I protested. “Why would I lie?”
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His jaw clenched. “Because you’re jealous!”
I gasped. “Jealous? I’m trying to protect you!”
“Right. You just can’t stand that I found someone younger who actually loves me,” Aaron snapped.
“She has a boyfriend! He works in our kitchen!” I shouted.
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“You’re lying!” His face was red with anger. “I can’t believe you’d sink this low.”
“It’s the truth!”
“This conversation is over.” He stormed out, slamming the front door behind him.
I couldn’t just let this go. I wouldn’t allow Lindsey to scam Aaron. He didn’t deserve that. No matter how angry he was at me, I had to make him see the truth.
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All night, I kept thinking about it. Aaron wouldn’t believe words alone—he needed proof. Clear, undeniable proof.
The next day, I watched for Leo. He was working in the kitchen, focused on chopping vegetables. I took a deep breath and walked over.
“Hey, Leo,” I said, stepping closer. “You and Lindsey make such a great couple. I was thinking—why not surprise her with a romantic dinner here after closing? She’d love it.”
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Leo’s face lit up. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “She even mentioned wanting something special like that recently.”
He wiped his hands on his apron, looking excited. “Wow, I had no idea. That sounds perfect.”
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I nodded. “You could set up a nice table, maybe bring some flowers. She’d love the effort.”
Leo grinned. “That’s a great idea, Melanie. Thanks for suggesting it. Can I do it tonight?”
I smiled. “Of course.”
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After that, I sent Aaron a message. My hands hovered over the keyboard for a moment before I typed.
I knew he wouldn’t reply. He was too angry. But he didn’t have to answer—he just needed to read it.
@Me
I know you think I’m lying, but if you want the truth, come to the restaurant after 10 p.m.
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I hit send and exhaled. My chest felt tight. Would he come? Would he ignore me? I had no way of knowing. All I could do was wait.
That evening, after putting David to bed, I opened my laptop. My fingers trembled slightly as I logged into the restaurant’s security system.
The cameras flickered to life. I found the right angle—one that showed the table Leo had set up.
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Candles flickered in the dim light. A small vase with flowers sat in the center. It looked romantic. Too romantic.
I watched as Leo and Lindsey sat together. They ate, talked, and laughed. Leo’s eyes shone with love.
He was completely devoted to her. Lindsey smiled, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.
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She leaned in, brushing her hand against his arm. Then, finally, she kissed him.
I grimaced and quickly switched cameras. I couldn’t watch that. My stomach twisted.
On the outdoor camera, movement caught my eye. My breath hitched. Aaron was there. He had come. He pushed open the restaurant door and walked inside.
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Heart pounding, I switched back to Lindsey and Leo. Just in time.
Aaron stepped into view, his face contorted with rage. Lindsey and Leo broke apart, their expressions shifting from shock to panic.
Leo’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Lindsey’s eyes darted around, searching for an escape.
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Aaron’s voice boomed. I couldn’t hear what he said, but his anger was clear. He pointed at Lindsey, then at Leo.
Lindsey crossed her arms, tossing her hair over her shoulder, but Leo looked terrified.
Then, suddenly, Lindsey yanked off her engagement ring and threw it at Aaron.
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It clattered onto the table. Aaron picked it up, his face pale. Without another word, he turned and stormed out.
I switched cameras again. Outside, Aaron stood still, his shoulders shaking.
His head dropped into his hand. Even from behind a screen, I could tell—he was crying.
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I swallowed hard. I had done the right thing. He needed to see the truth. But somehow, I still felt guilty.
After a while, the doorbell rang. I hesitated before opening it. Aaron stood there, his face red from crying, his eyes filled with regret.
“You were right,” he said, his voice hoarse.
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“This isn’t satisfying for me, just so you know,” I said. “I didn’t want to be right about this.”
Aaron nodded, his shoulders heavy. “I’m sorry for doubting you.” He took a shaky breath. “I should have trusted you.”
He stepped forward and pulled me into a hug. “Thank you.”
I hugged him back, feeling his pain.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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My Husband Mocked My Cooking Skills with a Powerpoint Presentation
When my husband mocked my cooking with a PowerPoint presentation in front of our family, I was humiliated. But instead of getting angry, I planned my revenge.
I had been married to Ben for almost five years, and most of the time, we were happy. I loved cooking, and I thought I was pretty good at it.
A happy couple | Source: Pexels
I’d been the family chef for years, and anytime we hosted, I would spend hours preparing lasagna from scratch, perfectly marinated roasts or intricate salads with homemade dressings. It was my thing, and I took pride in it.
Ben, on the other hand, could barely manage instant noodles.
A woman cooking | Source: Pexels
His attempts at cooking were rare, and they usually ended with takeout or, on one memorable occasion, a pot of burnt spaghetti because he forgot to add water. Despite his lack of skill, he had an unshakable confidence about everything, cooking included.
Last Saturday, we had a family gathering at my mom’s house. As usual, I was in charge of the main meal.
A person holding a cooking pot | Source: Pexels
I spent the day marinating the chicken, layering the lasagna, and tossing a big, colorful salad. By the time everyone gathered around the table, they couldn’t wait to dig in, and the compliments started flowing right away.
Then, just as everyone was starting to eat, I noticed Ben giving me a strange smirk that I couldn’t quite read. I tried to brush it off, thinking maybe he was remembering some inside joke. But then he cleared his throat and said, “You know, I’ve actually been taking notes on your cooking.”
A smiling man at a family dinner | Source: Midjourney
I laughed, thinking he was joking. “Oh yeah? Like what?”
He went on, “I made a little presentation.” I thought he was kidding, but no. He pulled out his phone, connected it to my mom’s TV, and opened up an actual PowerPoint presentation titled “Improving Our Home Dining Experience.” The table went silent, and I sat there, stunned.
A family dinner | Source: Freepik
“Alright, everyone,” he began, sounding for all the world like he was on stage. “Slide 1: Too Much Garlic.” He tapped the screen, and up came a photo of garlic bulbs with the note, “Strong flavors can overpower the palate.”
My cheeks burned as he carried on. “Ben, what is this?”
Garlic bulbs | Source: Pexels
Ignoring me, he continued. “Slide 2: Pasta Too Al Dente. We all know pasta should be tender, not crunchy,” he said, glancing around as if he were waiting for everyone’s agreement.
My sister let out an awkward laugh, and my dad coughed into his napkin. I was mortified but still too shocked to respond.
A shocked woman | Source: Pexels
Then he showed “Slide 3: Not Enough Salt in the Salad,” explaining to everyone at the table how “a good cook knows salt brings out flavors.”
Finally, he wrapped up with a photo of Gordon Ramsay facepalming, captioned, “What he’d think.” He sat back with a self-satisfied grin, glancing around for applause.
A smiling man | Source: Freepik
The room was quiet. My mom broke the silence with a forced chuckle. “Well, Ben, that’s… certainly creative,” she said, trying to smooth over the awkwardness.
I sat through the rest of the meal in silence, too humiliated to meet anyone’s eyes.
When we got home, I didn’t wait a moment before I turned to him. “Ben, what was that?” I asked.
A couple arguing | Source: Pexels
“It was all in good fun, babe,” he replied with a shrug. “You take cooking seriously, so I thought you’d appreciate some feedback.”
“Feedback?” I shot back. “Ben, you humiliated me in front of my family! How could you possibly think that was appropriate?”
“Relax,” he said, brushing it off. “You’re overreacting. I was just trying to help.”
A man talking to his upset girlfriend | Source: Pexels
“Help?” I repeated, hardly believing it. “Ben, you can’t even toast bread without setting off the smoke alarm. Who are you to critique my cooking?”
“It was just a joke,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’re being way too sensitive.”
I stared at him for a moment, feeling the last bit of my patience snap. “Fine. If you’re that much of a food critic, cook for yourself. I’m done.”
A couple with arms crossed | Source: Pexels
He laughed like he didn’t believe me. “Oh, come on, you’re not serious.”
“Oh, I’m dead serious, Ben,” I said, crossing my arms. And I meant every word.
After that humiliating dinner, I had no plans to let Ben off easy. The more I replayed the scene in my mind, the angrier I became. But instead of yelling or sulking, I decided on something better. If Ben thought PowerPoint was the way to go, well, I’d give him a presentation of my own.
A woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels
Over the next week, I poured my energy into creating “Improving Our Financial Experience.” It was hard not to laugh as I worked; my slides grew more ironic with every detail I added. This would be my perfect little payback, delivered with the same over-the-top style he’d used.
Slide 1 was titled “If We Could Afford a Vacation.” It opened with a dreamy stock photo of a sunny beach, complete with palm trees and turquoise waves.
A sunny beach | Source: Pexels
Underneath, I’d written, “If we had a little more financial flexibility, maybe we could be here instead of at home this summer!” A few bar graphs followed, showing how our current income made a tropical vacation “not feasible at this time.”
Slide 2 covered “Home Improvements: If Only We Could Budget for It.” A shiny, fully remodeled kitchen filled the slide, with sleek appliances and granite countertops.
A modern kitchen | Source: Pexels
Below, I added, “Imagine the potential if we had some extra funds!” Next, I displayed a cost analysis of his favorite weekly splurges (a bit of reality check disguised as humor) and labeled it, “Potential Savings: Cooking at Home.”
Slide 3 had “Fine Dining (If We Didn’t Eat Out So Often),” complete with mouthwatering photos of elegant dishes from a nearby Michelin-starred restaurant.
Gourmet dishes | Source: Pexels
I’d even put together a line chart comparing our monthly dining expenses to what we’d need to save for a special night at a place like that. A little brutal, maybe, but I was having too much fun by this point to care.
Finally, I wrapped it up with “Goals for a Strong Financial Future.” For the closing slide, I added an aspirational quote from an entrepreneur about achieving one’s dreams.
A man in a sharp suit | Source: Pexels
Right below, I inserted a motivational poster of a man in a suit pointing to the words, “Hard Work Pays Off.” I figured it would hit just the right note of playful irony.
The timing couldn’t have been better. We had another family gathering coming up, and I knew exactly when to roll out my masterpiece.
A woman plotting something | Source: Freepik
On the day of the gathering, I kept a straight face through dinner, politely accepting compliments on my lasagna without bringing up the previous incident. Ben was all smiles, seeming to believe the PowerPoint incident had already been forgotten. After dinner, while everyone was relaxing in the living room, I stood up.
“Hey, everyone,” I said, clearing my throat with a grin, “I actually have a little presentation I’d like to share.”
A smiling woman at a family dinner | Source: Freepik
Ben looked at me, surprised. “Oh? What’s this about?”
“Oh, just a few notes I’ve been working on.” I grabbed the remote and connected my laptop to the TV. The screen lit up with the title, “Improving Our Financial Experience.”
A few of my family members snickered, glancing at Ben. He looked uneasy, glancing around as if he’d just realized where this was going.
Smiling people in a family dinner | Source: Pexels
“Alright, Slide 1,” I said, clicking to a picture of the tropical beach.
Ben’s face went red as our relatives chuckled. My mom shot me a curious smile, realizing what I was doing.
“Slide 2: Home Improvements—If Only We Could Budget for It.” I clicked to the next slide, revealing the remodeled kitchen photo with its sleek appliances.
A woman talking at a family gathering | Source: Freepik
A few of my relatives laughed openly, and my dad nodded in agreement. Ben shifted in his seat, looking more uncomfortable by the second.
“Slide 3,” I continued, “Fine Dining, and How Cutting Back Could Help Us.” At this point, Ben looked like he wanted to disappear, his face flushed and eyes darting around the room.
Finally, I reached the last slide. I smiled and concluded, “With a little focus and effort, we can accomplish anything, don’t you think?”
A smiling confident woman | Source: Pexels
There was a moment of silence before my mom burst into laughter, followed by everyone else. Ben chuckled awkwardly, trying to play along, though it was clear he wasn’t quite as amused as everyone else.
When we got home that night, Ben closed the door and let out a long sigh. “Alright, message received,” he said, hands raised. “I guess I deserved that.”
A tired man | Source: Pexels
“More than deserved,” I replied, crossing my arms. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before you try to ‘critique’ my cooking in front of everyone.”
He nodded, his expression softening. “You’re right. I was out of line. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I just… thought I was being funny.”
“Well, now you know how it feels,” I replied, though I softened my tone, relieved he seemed to understand.
A man comforting his woman | Source: Pexels
Ben gave a small, sheepish smile. “So… does this mean you’ll cook again?”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help smiling. “Maybe,” I said, “but only if you promise to leave the ‘feedback’ out of it.”
A happy hugging couple | Source: Pexels
“Deal,” he said, chuckling. “From now on, you’re the chef.”
And with that, our “PowerPoint wars” were officially over.
Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: Ethan criticizes Amanda’s cooking and calls her worthless in the kitchen, but she’s had enough. Determined to prove him wrong, she devises a secret plan. But how will this housewife turn the tables on her husband, who has been dismissive of her efforts all these years?
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.
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