When I married my husband, I thought we both wanted the same things. I carried the whole household, thinking I was supporting him in whatever work he did from his home office until I discovered what the “work” actually was.
For the past three years, I’d been married to Jake, a man who called himself “the busiest man on Earth.” That’s how he justified locking himself away in his home office for hours on end. But one day I became privy to his “work,” and everything changed between us.
A man working | Source: Midjourney
Jake often spoke of “building our future,” a phrase he used so often it might as well have been his motto. I believed him. I wanted to. Isn’t that what love is? Supporting your partner, even when it’s hard?
To ease his stress, I took on all the other work. I raised our two children, managed the house, and even worked part-time to help stretch our tight budget. But lately, everything felt like it was slipping through my fingers—our finances, my sanity, and, most painfully, my trust in Jake.
An exhausted woman | Source: Midjourney
Although our bills were always late and the struggle was constant, I trusted him when he promised that he was “so close” to a breakthrough. He spent most of his days locked in his bare “office,” saying he was in “important meetings” or “crunching numbers.”
I was forced to adjust our whole lives to support him, including keeping the children as quiet as possible and timing my chores to avoid disturbing him. Our days followed a predictable pattern.
A woman keeping her children busy | Source: Midjourney
Jake would wake up early, scarf down breakfast with a quick “Got a big meeting today,” and then disappear into his so-called “war room.” He called it that as if he were strategizing for a global takeover. But for all his ambition, our bills remained overdue.
But yesterday was different, and things changed drastically from that point onward…
A frustrated woman | Source: Midjourney
It was a Wednesday, the kind of day that dragged on forever. The kids were out of school, which meant extra chaos because they became restless. Tyler, my youngest, kept running circles around the dining table with the dog barking in gleeful harmony.
My older daughter, Mia, was practicing her cartwheels in the living room. All the while, I scrubbed the kitchen counters, trying to keep some semblance of order while also making an effort to be as quiet as possible.
A woman cleaning | Source: Midjourney
“Keep it down!” I hissed at Tyler as he whooshed past me. “Daddy’s working.”
“But Mommy,” he whined, clutching the dog’s collar, “Scruffy wants to play!”
I sighed. I didn’t have it in me to argue. Jake had locked himself in his office hours ago. He’d reminded us at breakfast, “I’ve got a critical meeting today. Zero interruptions.” I nodded, like always, though the words stung. Zero interruptions had become our family’s unofficial rule.
A man giving instructions | Source: Midjourney
As I wiped down the stove, my mind wandered. When was the last time Jake and I really talked? Not about bills or the kids, but about us? About anything real? I shook off the thought, focusing on the task at hand.
Then it happened.
When Tyler ran through chasing the dog, he frightened me and the frying pan slipped from my hand, clanging against the tile floor with a sound so loud it made Mia scream and my son laugh.
“Oops!” Tyler giggled, his hands flying to his mouth.
A boy laughing | Source: Midjourney
The next moment, Jake burst out of his office, his face red and eyes blazing! “Can YOU not keep it down for one single minute?!” he roared, startling the kids into silence. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is during a work meeting?”
I froze, clutching the counter for support. “Jake, I—”
He cut me off, his voice dripping with frustration. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? I’m in there busting my ass, and you can’t even manage to keep things quiet!”
A man shouting | Source: Midjourney
The kids were staring at us, wide-eyed and silent. Tyler clung to Scruffy’s fur as if the dog could shield him from the tension. I opened my mouth to apologize, but then I heard it, a woman’s voice. Soft, playful, and utterly out of place in our home.
I turned toward the office door, my stomach tightening. “Jake,” I said slowly, “who’s in there?”
His face turned from anger to panic in an instant. “It’s just a client,” he stammered, blocking the doorway. “Stay out of it.”
An upset and defensive man | Source: Midjourney
But I wasn’t buying it! My gut twisted with suspicion as I pushed past him and stepped into the room.
The sight before me was surreal! The computer screen displayed a bright, cartoonish online game. In the corner of the screen was a video call window, and inside it was a bubbly, animated avatar labeled “SUZYLOVELY88.” The avatar giggled as if this were the funniest thing in the world.
“What is this?” My voice came out shaky but firm.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
Jake’s panic morphed into indignation. “It’s my hobby,” he said, puffing out his chest like he always did when cornered. “You’re always so boring! I need an escape! Suzy gets me. She’s fun to talk to, unlike you.”
I felt like I’d been slapped!
“Your hobby?” I repeated, my voice rising. “You’ve been locking yourself in here, pretending to work, while I’ve been breaking my back to keep this family afloat? And for what? To talk to some stranger online?!”
An angry woman shouting | Source: Midjourney
“She’s not just some stranger!” Jake snapped, his face flushed. “She actually listens to me, which is more than I can say for you.”
I blinked, stunned into silence. The kids peeked around the corner, their curious eyes darting between us. I gestured for them to go to their rooms, and thankfully, they obeyed.
Turning back to Jake, I felt my anger boil over. “Do you hear yourself?” I said, my voice trembling with emotion.
An angry woman shouting | Source: Midjourney
“I’ve sacrificed everything for you—for us! And you’ve been sitting here, wasting time on this… this nonsense?”
Jake scoffed, his bravado crumbling. “Maybe if you weren’t so naggy and exhausted all the time, I wouldn’t need this.”
Tears streamed down my face, but I didn’t care. Getting angry again, he added, “You know what? I’m done! I’m going to Suzy! She actually makes me happy!”
He stormed out of the office, grabbed a duffel bag from the bedroom closet, and started stuffing in clothes without looking at me. I followed him, trying to talk some sense into him, but he wouldn’t listen. And just like that, he was gone.
An upset man leaving his home | Source: Midjourney
The next day passed in a blur. I vacillated between anger, heartbreak, and an odd sense of relief. The house felt quieter, not just physically but emotionally. The kids kept asking when Daddy was coming home, and I gave them the same answer each time: “I don’t know, sweetheart.”
On the second day, Jake’s mother called. I hadn’t expected it, and the desperation in her voice caught me off guard.
“Sweetie,” she began, “I know you’re upset, but I need to tell you something.”
A woman on a call | Source: Midjourney
“What is it?” I asked, bracing myself.
Her voice quivered as she explained. “Jake drove hours to meet Suzy. But… she wasn’t who he thought she was.”
My heart sank. “What do you mean?”
“Suzy,” she continued, “isn’t a woman. He’s a middle-aged man with a beard. He’s been catfishing Jake for months and even convinced him to send money for ‘plane tickets.’ My son’s devastated!”
An upset woman on a call | Source: Midjourney
The absurdity of it hit me like a wave, and before I could stop myself, I burst into laughter! Real, deep, uncontrollable laughter. It felt good, like releasing years of pent-up frustration.
“So, all along he really wasn’t working?” I asked curiously.
“No, sweetie, he played video games for some money but wasn’t making much. Whatever little he got, some of it he sent to this Suzy person. Please,” his mom pleaded. “He’s humiliated. He wants to come home.”
A desperate woman | Source: Midjourney
I took a deep breath, my laughter fading. “No,” I said firmly. “Jake made his choices. I’ve spent too long putting myself last. I’m not doing it anymore.”
When Jake tried calling to ask to come back, I told him I wanted a divorce and that I was taking everything. I offered to let him keep his laptop. “Maybe you’ll find a better ‘Suzy’ next time.”
Not having much to his name and having cheated online, my husband couldn’t fight me much, and I got everything, including the kids.
A sad man | Source: Midjourney
In the weeks that followed, I began rebuilding my life. I found a full-time job and enrolled the kids in daycare. It was scary, but every step I took felt like a step toward freedom. The weight of carrying Jake’s burdens was gone, and I felt lighter than I had in years!
One night, as I tucked Tyler into bed, he looked up at me with big, curious eyes. “Mommy,” he whispered, “are we gonna be okay?”
I smiled, brushing his hair back gently. “Yes, sweetheart,” I said with a confidence I hadn’t felt in years. “We’re going to be more than okay.”
And for the first time, I truly believed it.
A content woman and her son | Source: Midjourney
Unfortunately, Jake’s wife isn’t the only woman who has had to deal with a secretive husband, but in the following story, the truth is something worse and completely unexpected. It changes the woman’s life for the better.
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.
Parents Started Charging Me Rent Because I Had Decorated My Room – Karma Hit Back
When my parents demanded rent for the basement I’d turned into a haven, they never expected it would lead to my escape and their ultimate regret.
I’d always felt like the black sheep in my family. It was not just a feeling, though. It was pretty obvious when you looked at how differently my parents treated me and my younger brother, Daniel.
When I was 17, we moved to a two-bedroom house, and my parents decided Daniel needed his own room. Instead of sharing like normal siblings, they shoved me into our unfinished basement.
A basement | Source: Unsplash
Meanwhile, he got this huge, bright room upstairs, complete with brand-new everything, like furniture, decorations, and even a gaming setup. Me? I got whatever junk they could scrounge up from the garage.
I remember the day they showed me my new “room.”
Mom gestured around the cold, concrete space like it was some kind of prize. “Elena, honey, isn’t this exciting? You’ll have so much space down here!”
Middle-aged woman smiling | Source: Pexels
I stared at the bare bulb dangling from the ceiling, the cobwebs in the corners, and the musty smell that clung to everything. “Yeah, Mom. Super exciting.”
Dad clapped me on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit, kiddo! And hey, maybe we can fix it up a bit later, huh?”
Later never came, of course. But I wasn’t about to live in a dungeon forever.
A teenager girl in a dark basement | Source: Midjourney
I picked up an after-school job at the local grocery store, bagging groceries and pushing carts. It wasn’t glamorous, but every paycheck brought me closer to transforming my basement prison.
My Aunt Teresa was my saving grace through it all. She’s the only one who knew what my life was like at home.
So, when she heard what I was doing with the basement, she started coming over on weekends, armed with paintbrushes and a contagious enthusiasm.
A woman painting a wall | Source: Pexels
“Alright, Ellie-girl,” she’d say, tying back her wild curls. “Let’s make this place shine!”
We started with paint, turning the dingy walls into a soft lavender. Then came curtains to hide the tiny windows, area rugs to cover the cold floor, and string lights to chase away the shadows.
It took months because my job didn’t exactly pay much, but slowly, the basement became mine. I hung up posters of my favorite bands, arranged my books on salvaged shelves, and even managed to snag a secondhand desk for homework.
Posters on the wall | Source: Pexels
The day I hung up the final touch, a set of LED lights around my bed, I stepped back and felt something I hadn’t in a long time or perhaps my entire life: pride.
I was admiring my handiwork when I heard footsteps on the stairs. Mom and Dad appeared and looked around with raised eyebrows.
“Well, well,” Dad said, his eyes narrowing. “Looks like someone’s been busy.”
A man with arms crossed and a tight expression | Source: Pexels
I waited for praise, or at least acknowledgment of my hard work. Instead, Mom pursed her lips.
“Elena, if you have money for all this,” she waved her hand at my carefully curated space, “then you can start contributing to the household.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“That’s right,” Dad nodded. “We think it’s time you started paying rent.”
A man’s hand | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Rent? I’m 17! I’m still in high school!”
“And clearly making enough to redecorate,” Mom countered, crossing her arms. “It’s time you learned some financial responsibility.”
I wanted to scream. Daniel had a room three times the size of mine, fully furnished and decorated on their dime, and he’d never worked a day in his life. Yes, he was younger, but still, it was more of their unfairness.
A big modern bedroom | Source: Pexels
Unfortunately, I knew I couldn’t argue with them, so I bit my tongue. “Fine,” I managed. “How much?”
They named a figure that made my stomach sink. It was doable, but it meant saying goodbye to any hopes of saving for college, which was my plan now that the basement was done.
As if to add insult to injury, Daniel chose that moment to thunder down the stairs. He took one look around and let out a low whistle.
Teenage boy going downstairs to basement | Source: Midjourney
“Whoa, sis. Nice cave.” His eyes landed on my LED lights. “Hey, are these strong?”
Before I could stop him, he reached up and yanked on the strip. The lights came down with a sad flicker, leaving a trail of peeled paint behind them.
“Daniel!” I cried. But my parents rushed to him, asked if something was wrong, and just shrugged at me.
“Boys will be boys,” Dad chuckled as if his golden boy hadn’t just destroyed something I’d worked months for.
Middle man laughing | Source: Pexels
So, there I was, standing in my once-again darkened room, fighting back tears of frustration. In the grand scheme of things, Daniel had only ruined my lights, and I could fix that up. But in truth, it was more than that.
It was a symbol of my life; always second best, always the afterthought. But karma, as they say, has a way of evening the score.
A few weeks later, my parents invited Aunt Teresa over for dinner along with some friends. She brought along a woman named Ava, an interior designer from her book club.
Two women at a dinner | Source: Pexels
We all sat around the dining table and picked at Mom’s overcooked pot roast while she gushed about Daniel and his football team.
But suddenly, Aunt Teresa spoke up. “Ava, you’ve got to see what my niece has done with the basement. It’s incredible!”
I felt my cheeks heat up as all eyes turned to me. “It’s not that big a deal,” I mumbled.
But Ava was intrigued. “I’d love to see it. Do you mind?”
A woman smiling | Source: Pexels
Ignoring my parents’ tight smiles, I led Ava downstairs. As she looked around, her eyes widened.
“Elena, this is amazing. You did all this yourself?”
I nodded, suddenly shy. “Most of it. My aunt helped with some of the bigger stuff.”
Ava ran her hand along the repurposed bookshelf I’d salvaged from a neighbor’s curb. “You have a real eye for design. There wasn’t much potential here, but the way you’ve maximized the space, the color choices… it’s really impressive.”
A bookshelf | Source: Pexels
For the first time in forever, I felt a spark of hope. “Really?”
She nodded and smiled. “In fact, we have an internship opening up at my firm. It’s usually for college students, but… I think we could make an exception for a high school student about to go to college. Are you interested in design as a career?”
I had to stop my jaw from falling off when I tried to speak. “Absolutely! I mean, I’ve never really considered it professionally, but I love it.”
A teenage girl smiling | Source: Midjourney
Ava smiled. “Well, consider it now. The internship is paid, and if you do a good job, you might be able to earn a scholarship from the company for college if you pursue design. What do you say?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Yes! A thousand times, yes! Thank you!”
“Excellent! You can begin straight away. I’ll call you with details later,” Ava nodded and bypassed my parents as she headed upstairs.
A nice woman smiling | Source: Pexels
I hadn’t even realized they had followed us downstairs. Their faces were stunned, and my brother looked confused that, for once, the spotlight was on someone else.
That internship changed everything. Suddenly, I had a direction, a purpose, and most importantly, people who valued and wanted me to succeed.
So, I threw myself into learning everything I could about design, stayed late at the firm, and soaked up knowledge like a sponge.
A teenage girl working in an office | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few months, I juggled school, my internship, and my part-time job at the grocery store. It was exhausting but exhilarating.
At home, things were… different. My parents seemed unsure how to treat me now. The rent demands stopped. Instead, they asked me about my “little job.”
“So, uh, how’s that design thing going?” Dad would wonder over dinner, but he always avoided my eyes.
Middle-aged man looking down | Source: Pexels
“It’s great,” I’d reply, trying to keep things nonchalant. My joy didn’t belong to them. “I’m learning so much.”
Daniel, for his part, seemed bewildered. “I don’t get it,” he complained one day. “Why does Elena get an internship and not me?”
Mom patted his hand. “Well, sweetie, that’s because you’re still young. You’ll get an even better one later.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course, they had to placate the favorite.
A teenage girl at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney
As the school year progressed, I started putting together my portfolio for college applications. Ava was an incredible mentor, who guided me through the process and helped me choose my best work.
“You’ve got a real talent, Elena,” she told me one afternoon in her office after hours. She had kindly stayed back, so I could finish up my plans. “These schools would be lucky to have you.”
Her words gave me the confidence to aim high. I applied to some of the top design programs in the country, including Ava’s alma mater.
A young woman writing on a notebook | Source: Pexels
Afterward, the waiting was agony, but finally, it happened. I was in the basement, touching up some paint on my bookshelf, when I heard Mom call down.
“Elena? There’s a big envelope here for you.”
I took the stairs two at a time and ripped the envelope from her hands. “Dear Elena, We are pleased to offer you admission to our School of Design…” My knees went weak, but it only got better!
A big envelope | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t believe it. Not only had I gotten in, but I’d been offered a full scholarship by the school, the same one Ava attended.
“Well?” Mom asked and gave me a tight smile. “What does it say?”
“I got in. Full ride,” I said, looking up as my eyes watered.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, she went back upstairs. She couldn’t even muster a small congratulation.
A serious older woman | Source: Pexels
My dad said nothing at dinner, and Daniel was somehow angry.
I felt their bitterness. But I didn’t care. Finally, I had what I wanted. Ava held a small celebration for me at the office, and Aunt Teresa held a big bash. It was all I needed.
The next room I decorated was my dorm… then, I redecorated my entire life with colors that shone like my soul, the patterns that made the world unique, and the family I made along the way, who were as supportive as a nice, cozy bed frame that lasts for decades.
A teenage girl happy | Source: Midjourney
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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