When my new neighbors installed a camera aimed at my backyard, I knew I had to take action. What started as a simple plan to teach them a lesson about privacy spiraled into a wild performance that caught the attention of the local police — with consequences I never could have predicted.
I never thought I’d become an amateur actor just to teach my nosy neighbors a lesson, but life has a way of surprising you.
It all started when Carla and Frank moved in next door. They seemed nice enough at first, if a bit… off.
“Welcome to the neighborhood,” I said, offering them a basket of tomatoes from my garden. “I’m Zoe.”
Carla’s eyes darted around nervously. “Thank you. We’re very… security-conscious. You understand, right?”
I didn’t, but I nodded anyway. Little did I know what that would mean for me.
A week later, I returned from visiting my mom to find something shocking in my backyard. As I lounged in my swimsuit, tending to my beloved tomatoes, I noticed a small black object under the eaves of their house.
“Is that a camera?” I muttered, squinting at it. My blood ran cold as I realized it was pointed directly at my yard.
I marched over to their house, still in my swimsuit, and pounded on the door. Frank answered, looking annoyed.
“Why is there a camera pointed at my yard?” I demanded.
He shrugged. “It’s for security. We need to make sure no one climbs the fence.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I sputtered. “You’re invading my privacy!”
Carla appeared behind him. “We have a right to protect our property,” she said coldly.
I left, fuming. I could have taken them to court, but who has the time or money for that? No, I needed a different approach.
That’s when I called my friends.
“Samantha, I need your help,” I said. “How do you feel about a little… performance art?”
She laughed. “I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”
I outlined my plan, and soon we had a whole crew on board. Miguel, our resident special effects guru, and Harriet, who never met a costume she didn’t like.
As we planned, I wondered if I was going too far. “Guys, are we sure about this?” I asked during our final meeting.
Samantha put her hand on my shoulder. “Zoe, they’ve been spying on you for weeks. They need to learn a lesson.”
Miguel nodded. “Plus, it’ll be fun! When was the last time we did something this crazy?”
Harriet grinned. “I’ve already started on the costumes. You can’t back out now!”
Their enthusiasm was contagious, and I felt my doubts melting away. “Alright, let’s do this.”
The next Saturday, we gathered in my backyard, decked out in the most ridiculous outfits imaginable. I wore a neon green wig and a tutu over a scuba suit.
“Ready for the garden party of the century?” I grinned.
Samantha adjusted her alien mask. “Let’s give those creeps a show they’ll never forget.”
We started with normal party activities — if you can call anything normal when you’re dressed like escapees from a circus. We danced, played games, and made sure to stay in view of the camera.
“Hey, Zoe!” Miguel called out, his pirate hat askew. “How’s your mom doing?”
I smiled, remembering my recent visit. “She’s good. Still trying to set me up with her friend’s son.”
Harriet laughed, her Red Riding Hood cape swishing. “Classic mom move. Did you tell her about the camera situation?”
I shook my head. “Nah, didn’t want to worry her. She’d probably march over here herself and give them a piece of her mind.”
“Honestly,” Samantha chimed in, “that might have been entertaining to watch.”
We all laughed, imagining my feisty mom confronting Carla and Frank. But then it was time for the main event.
“Oh no!” I shrieked, pointing at Samantha. “She’s been stabbed!”
Miguel swiftly brandished a rubber knife covered in ketchup. “Arrr, she had it coming!”
Samantha collapsed dramatically, ketchup “blood” pooling around her. We all started arguing and running around in panic.
“Should we call the police?” Harriet yelled, cape flapping as she hopped around.
“No, we have to hide the body!” I shouted back.
Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine. The neighbor’s curtain twitched. Had someone seen us? The eerie silence that followed was broken only by our ragged breathing.
We froze, eyes darting from one to another. The weight of our imaginary crime felt all too real in that moment. A dog barked in the distance, making us all jump.
Time seemed to stretch, each second an eternity as we waited, unsure of what would happen next.
Miguel’s hand trembled as he lowered the ketchup-stained knife. Samantha, still sprawled on the ground, barely dared to breathe. The air grew thick with tension, pressing down on us like a physical force.
I tried to swallow, but my mouth had gone dry. My mind raced, conjuring up ridiculous scenarios of how we’d explain this scene to anyone who might have witnessed it. Would they believe it was just a game? Or would our silly prank spiral into something far more serious?
A car door slammed somewhere down the street. We all flinched in unison, our nerves stretched to the breaking point. The sound of footsteps seemed to echo in the stillness, growing louder with each passing moment. Had someone called the authorities?
Just then, we heard sirens in the distance. “Showtime,” I whispered. “Everyone inside, quick!”
We dragged Samantha in, cleaned up the ketchup, and changed into normal clothes in record time. By the time the police knocked on my door, we were sitting around the dining table, looking perfectly innocent.
“Is everything alright here?” the officer asked, looking confused.
I put on my best concerned-citizen face. “Of course, officer. Is something wrong?”
She explained that they received a report of a violent crime at this address. I feigned shock, then allowed “realization” to dawn on my face.
“Oh! We were just doing some improv acting in the backyard,” I said. “It must have looked pretty realistic, huh?”
The officer frowned. “How did anyone see into your backyard? Those fences are pretty high.”
I sighed dramatically. “Well, officer, that’s the real problem here. My neighbors have a camera pointed at my yard. They’ve been recording me without my consent.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Is that so? I think we need to have a chat with your neighbors.”
We watched from my window as the police went next door. Carla and Frank looked panicked as they were questioned.
An hour later, the officer returned. “Ma’am, I’m afraid your neighbors have been engaging in some illegal surveillance. We’ve confiscated their equipment and they’ll be facing charges. Would you be willing to make a statement?”
I tried to look surprised. “That’s terrible! I had no idea it was so extensive. But, of course, I’ll make a statement, and testify in court if it comes to that.”
After the police left, my friends and I celebrated our victory.
“I can’t believe it worked!” Samantha laughed.
Miguel raised his glass. “To Zoe, master of revenge!”
I grinned, but something was nagging at me. “Do you think we went too far?”
Harriet shook her head. “They invaded your privacy. They got what they deserved.”
The next day, I was back in my garden, enjoying the sunshine without worrying about prying eyes. As I tended to my tomatoes, I saw Carla and Frank leaving their house, suitcases in hand.
Part of me felt guilty, but then I remembered all those recordings they had of me. No, they’d made their choice. I just helped them face the consequences.
As I picked a ripe tomato, I smiled to myself. Sometimes, the best way to deal with nosy neighbors isn’t through the courts — it’s through a little creative problem-solving.
And hey, if nothing else, at least I now know I have a future in community theater if gardening doesn’t work out.
A week later, I was having coffee with Samantha when she asked, “So, any news about Carla and Frank?”
I shook my head. “Not really. I saw them leave, and I haven’t heard from the cops yet. Maybe they decided not to press charges after all. Can’t say I miss them, though.”
Samantha smirked. “I bet they’d think twice before setting up cameras now.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, then paused. “You know, part of me wonders if we should feel bad. We did kinda turn their lives upside down.”
Samantha raised an eyebrow. “Zoe, they were the ones breaking the law. All we did was expose them.”
I nodded, but the guilt lingered. “I know, I know. It’s just… I keep thinking about how scared they looked when the police showed up.”
“Hey,” Samantha said, leaning forward, “remember how violated you felt when you saw that camera? How angry you were? They did that to you for weeks.”
I sighed. “You’re right. I guess I’m just not used to being the ‘bad guy’.”
She laughed. “Trust me, you’re not the bad guy here. You’re the hero who stood up for herself.”
Later that day, as I watered my tomatoes, I saw a moving truck pull up to Carla and Frank’s house. A young couple got out, looking excited.
I watched as they unloaded boxes, chatting and laughing. Part of me wanted to go over and introduce myself, maybe warn them about the previous owners. But another part of me just wanted to move on.
As I turned back to my garden, I made a decision. I’d give these new neighbors a chance — no preconceptions, no suspicions. But I’d also keep my eyes open. After all, you never know when you might need to throw another garden party.
I RETURNED HOME TO FIND MY FURNITURE ON THE CURB — MY EX’S REVENGE WAS A TOTAL FLOP
When Gina and her husband Brendan decided to separate, she took a break from the drama by staying with her parents for the weekend. But when she came back home, she was shocked to find all her things spread out on the lawn.
To her surprise, Gina discovered a valuable item that belonged to Brendan among the scattered items. This turn of events gave her a chance for some well-deserved revenge.
After deciding to split up, Brendan changed completely. The man she had shared her life with was now replaced by someone who was bitter and resentful.
“You’re complaining about how I act? How I talk?” Brendan shouted.
“I’m just saying you need to calm down. Yelling won’t help you get your point across,” I said, holding my head.
“Oh, come on, Gina,” he yelled even louder. “You made me this way! With all your demands and constant complaints. Just go live your life.”
So, I did.
As the divorce moved forward, Brendan and I tried to organize our things and make a clean break.
“Just let me pack up these items, Gina,” Brendan said one day, rummaging through my bookshelf.
https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?gdpr=0&us_privacy=1—&gpp_sid=-1&client=ca-pub-1773658762833587&output=html&h=280&adk=1030787214&adf=720187423&pi=t.aa~a.95137260~i.23~rp.4&w=622&abgtt=7&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1725902305&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=1191565633&ad_type=text_image&format=622×280&url=https%3A%2F%2Fjokesdaddy.com%2Fi-returned-home-to-find-my-furniture-on-the-curb-my-exs-revenge-was-a-total-flop%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwY2xjawFMDSVleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHYAHkHko4VBJwIKgo-i2YcTNliNhvQJKX2gLUYIJeKwHrdqYp9JbH7Enog_aem_8Tw_lJmy-8mQGSYVjGHsWg&host=ca-host-pub-2644536267352236&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=156&rw=622&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMC4zLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDkuMC41NDE0LjE2OCIsbnVsbCwwLG51bGwsIjY0IixbWyJOb3RfQSBCcmFuZCIsIjk5LjAuMC4wIl0sWyJHb29nbGUgQ2hyb21lIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXSxbIkNocm9taXVtIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXV0sMF0.&dt=1725902294117&bpp=2&bdt=1491&idt=2&shv=r20240904&mjsv=m202409040101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3Da1918bbb8764ee47%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MaZVumXXHZ_r8ay8rIc_wLHZkNFRA&gpic=UID%3D00000de8294ca1d6%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MYK6Nwd1vVe2KMyk5-RmsEA7W_MdQ&eo_id_str=ID%3D416b984e50de4687%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DAA-AfjaIy_YNLEGxhgDI–Ucx1la&prev_fmts=0x0%2C980x280%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C1031x592&nras=6&correlator=1544306263510&frm=20&pv=1&u_tz=420&u_his=2&u_h=768&u_w=1360&u_ah=728&u_aw=1360&u_cd=24&u_sd=1&dmc=8&adx=46&ady=2645&biw=1031&bih=592&scr_x=0&scr_y=300&eid=44759876%2C44759927%2C44759837%2C31086863%2C44795921%2C95331689%2C95338228%2C95341662%2C95342032&oid=2&psts=AOrYGsmf74lC_o21lLWT-y8JkPdukEJjdEVLTcFNTTiI2MZtQZOn7gm9fqBXJQ204LPhK5TyyxqB7RJhCBpYrWpEH-d-pg%2CAOrYGslm7CZaHYJzHMUmoGvGJvYYp6CdXPnY5Kqrg8UwXSl9jtcaAW2FWR21z4RRl7V_999Rm6DuOU4vb3WsX2AqBwh4lOA%2CAOrYGsn1iALXUthP_uepeflxfYJ3mJhDDjEuRc4KMfVMdd9wGa9hfSH_6kGIKr7cb7_mBUbdcC5gbV6sbGZ2HwBUV2-sNAY&pvsid=1127631096421780&tmod=632698115&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fl.facebook.com%2F&fc=1408&brdim=147%2C16%2C147%2C16%2C1360%2C0%2C1064%2C712%2C1048%2C592&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&bz=1.02&psd=W251bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLDNd&ifi=5&uci=a!5&btvi=3&fsb=1&dtd=11228
“You’ll just end up taking my things with you,” I replied. “I need to sort out my own stuff first.”
“Fine,” he said.
But things only got worse. The emotional stress left me feeling constantly nauseous and uneasy. So, I decided to spend the weekend at my parents’ house to clear my head.
“Yeah, run away to your parents,” Brendan sneered as I packed an overnight bag.
https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?gdpr=0&us_privacy=1—&gpp_sid=-1&client=ca-pub-1773658762833587&output=html&h=280&adk=1030787214&adf=1527610060&pi=t.aa~a.95137260~i.33~rp.4&w=622&abgtt=7&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1725902308&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=1191565633&ad_type=text_image&format=622×280&url=https%3A%2F%2Fjokesdaddy.com%2Fi-returned-home-to-find-my-furniture-on-the-curb-my-exs-revenge-was-a-total-flop%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwY2xjawFMDSVleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHYAHkHko4VBJwIKgo-i2YcTNliNhvQJKX2gLUYIJeKwHrdqYp9JbH7Enog_aem_8Tw_lJmy-8mQGSYVjGHsWg&host=ca-host-pub-2644536267352236&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=156&rw=622&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMC4zLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDkuMC41NDE0LjE2OCIsbnVsbCwwLG51bGwsIjY0IixbWyJOb3RfQSBCcmFuZCIsIjk5LjAuMC4wIl0sWyJHb29nbGUgQ2hyb21lIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXSxbIkNocm9taXVtIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXV0sMF0.&dt=1725902294129&bpp=2&bdt=1503&idt=2&shv=r20240904&mjsv=m202409040101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3Da1918bbb8764ee47%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MaZVumXXHZ_r8ay8rIc_wLHZkNFRA&gpic=UID%3D00000de8294ca1d6%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MYK6Nwd1vVe2KMyk5-RmsEA7W_MdQ&eo_id_str=ID%3D416b984e50de4687%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DAA-AfjaIy_YNLEGxhgDI–Ucx1la&prev_fmts=0x0%2C980x280%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C1031x592%2C622x280&nras=7&correlator=1544306263510&frm=20&pv=1&u_tz=420&u_his=2&u_h=768&u_w=1360&u_ah=728&u_aw=1360&u_cd=24&u_sd=1&dmc=8&adx=46&ady=3165&biw=1031&bih=592&scr_x=0&scr_y=800&eid=44759876%2C44759927%2C44759837%2C31086863%2C44795921%2C95331689%2C95338228%2C95341662%2C95342032&oid=2&psts=AOrYGsmf74lC_o21lLWT-y8JkPdukEJjdEVLTcFNTTiI2MZtQZOn7gm9fqBXJQ204LPhK5TyyxqB7RJhCBpYrWpEH-d-pg%2CAOrYGslm7CZaHYJzHMUmoGvGJvYYp6CdXPnY5Kqrg8UwXSl9jtcaAW2FWR21z4RRl7V_999Rm6DuOU4vb3WsX2AqBwh4lOA%2CAOrYGsn1iALXUthP_uepeflxfYJ3mJhDDjEuRc4KMfVMdd9wGa9hfSH_6kGIKr7cb7_mBUbdcC5gbV6sbGZ2HwBUV2-sNAY&pvsid=1127631096421780&tmod=632698115&uas=1&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fl.facebook.com%2F&fc=1408&brdim=147%2C16%2C147%2C16%2C1360%2C0%2C1064%2C712%2C1048%2C592&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&bz=1.02&psd=W251bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLDNd&ifi=6&uci=a!6&btvi=4&fsb=1&dtd=14067
“They’re better than you,” I said, walking out the door.
And honestly? It was the right choice. I needed space to process everything, especially the fact that I was going to be on my own for the first time in twelve years. Even though Brendan and I needed to be apart, I couldn’t see my future clearly.
I also just wanted my parents to take care of me for the weekend.
https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?gdpr=0&us_privacy=1—&gpp_sid=-1&client=ca-pub-1773658762833587&output=html&h=280&adk=1030787214&adf=1586282284&pi=t.aa~a.95137260~i.41~rp.4&w=622&abgtt=7&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1725902319&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=1191565633&ad_type=text_image&format=622×280&url=https%3A%2F%2Fjokesdaddy.com%2Fi-returned-home-to-find-my-furniture-on-the-curb-my-exs-revenge-was-a-total-flop%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwY2xjawFMDSVleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHYAHkHko4VBJwIKgo-i2YcTNliNhvQJKX2gLUYIJeKwHrdqYp9JbH7Enog_aem_8Tw_lJmy-8mQGSYVjGHsWg&host=ca-host-pub-2644536267352236&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=156&rw=622&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMC4zLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDkuMC41NDE0LjE2OCIsbnVsbCwwLG51bGwsIjY0IixbWyJOb3RfQSBCcmFuZCIsIjk5LjAuMC4wIl0sWyJHb29nbGUgQ2hyb21lIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXSxbIkNocm9taXVtIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXV0sMF0.&dt=1725902294136&bpp=1&bdt=1510&idt=1&shv=r20240904&mjsv=m202409040101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3Da1918bbb8764ee47%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MaZVumXXHZ_r8ay8rIc_wLHZkNFRA&gpic=UID%3D00000de8294ca1d6%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MYK6Nwd1vVe2KMyk5-RmsEA7W_MdQ&eo_id_str=ID%3D416b984e50de4687%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DAA-AfjaIy_YNLEGxhgDI–Ucx1la&prev_fmts=0x0%2C980x280%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C1031x592%2C622x280%2C622x280&nras=8&correlator=1544306263510&frm=20&pv=1&u_tz=420&u_his=2&u_h=768&u_w=1360&u_ah=728&u_aw=1360&u_cd=24&u_sd=1&dmc=8&adx=46&ady=3674&biw=1031&bih=592&scr_x=0&scr_y=1400&eid=44759876%2C44759927%2C44759837%2C31086863%2C44795921%2C95331689%2C95338228%2C95341662%2C95342032&oid=2&psts=AOrYGsmf74lC_o21lLWT-y8JkPdukEJjdEVLTcFNTTiI2MZtQZOn7gm9fqBXJQ204LPhK5TyyxqB7RJhCBpYrWpEH-d-pg%2CAOrYGslm7CZaHYJzHMUmoGvGJvYYp6CdXPnY5Kqrg8UwXSl9jtcaAW2FWR21z4RRl7V_999Rm6DuOU4vb3WsX2AqBwh4lOA%2CAOrYGsn1iALXUthP_uepeflxfYJ3mJhDDjEuRc4KMfVMdd9wGa9hfSH_6kGIKr7cb7_mBUbdcC5gbV6sbGZ2HwBUV2-sNAY&pvsid=1127631096421780&tmod=632698115&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fl.facebook.com%2F&fc=1408&brdim=147%2C16%2C147%2C16%2C1360%2C0%2C1064%2C712%2C1048%2C592&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&bz=1.02&psd=W251bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLDNd&ifi=7&uci=a!7&btvi=5&fsb=1&dtd=25709
“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 need anything from the store, just tell Dad. He’ll make a quick run for you.”
I took a deep breath. I was exactly where I needed to be.
“Are you sure a divorce is the right choice?” my father asked me during dinner.
https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?gdpr=0&us_privacy=1—&gpp_sid=-1&client=ca-pub-1773658762833587&output=html&h=280&adk=1030787214&adf=2314894532&pi=t.aa~a.95137260~i.49~rp.4&w=622&abgtt=7&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1725902326&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=1191565633&ad_type=text_image&format=622×280&url=https%3A%2F%2Fjokesdaddy.com%2Fi-returned-home-to-find-my-furniture-on-the-curb-my-exs-revenge-was-a-total-flop%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwY2xjawFMDSVleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHYAHkHko4VBJwIKgo-i2YcTNliNhvQJKX2gLUYIJeKwHrdqYp9JbH7Enog_aem_8Tw_lJmy-8mQGSYVjGHsWg&host=ca-host-pub-2644536267352236&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=156&rw=622&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMC4zLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDkuMC41NDE0LjE2OCIsbnVsbCwwLG51bGwsIjY0IixbWyJOb3RfQSBCcmFuZCIsIjk5LjAuMC4wIl0sWyJHb29nbGUgQ2hyb21lIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXSxbIkNocm9taXVtIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXV0sMF0.&dt=1725902294141&bpp=2&bdt=1514&idt=2&shv=r20240904&mjsv=m202409040101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3Da1918bbb8764ee47%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MaZVumXXHZ_r8ay8rIc_wLHZkNFRA&gpic=UID%3D00000de8294ca1d6%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MYK6Nwd1vVe2KMyk5-RmsEA7W_MdQ&eo_id_str=ID%3D416b984e50de4687%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DAA-AfjaIy_YNLEGxhgDI–Ucx1la&prev_fmts=0x0%2C980x280%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C1031x592%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C622x280&nras=9&correlator=1544306263510&frm=20&pv=1&u_tz=420&u_his=2&u_h=768&u_w=1360&u_ah=728&u_aw=1360&u_cd=24&u_sd=1&dmc=8&adx=46&ady=4182&biw=1031&bih=592&scr_x=0&scr_y=1900&eid=44759876%2C44759927%2C44759837%2C31086863%2C44795921%2C95331689%2C95338228%2C95341662%2C95342032&oid=2&psts=AOrYGsmf74lC_o21lLWT-y8JkPdukEJjdEVLTcFNTTiI2MZtQZOn7gm9fqBXJQ204LPhK5TyyxqB7RJhCBpYrWpEH-d-pg%2CAOrYGslm7CZaHYJzHMUmoGvGJvYYp6CdXPnY5Kqrg8UwXSl9jtcaAW2FWR21z4RRl7V_999Rm6DuOU4vb3WsX2AqBwh4lOA%2CAOrYGsn1iALXUthP_uepeflxfYJ3mJhDDjEuRc4KMfVMdd9wGa9hfSH_6kGIKr7cb7_mBUbdcC5gbV6sbGZ2HwBUV2-sNAY&pvsid=1127631096421780&tmod=632698115&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fl.facebook.com%2F&fc=1408&brdim=147%2C16%2C147%2C16%2C1360%2C0%2C1064%2C712%2C1048%2C592&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&bz=1.02&psd=W251bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLDNd&ifi=8&uci=a!8&btvi=6&fsb=1&dtd=32261
“Yes,” I said with a heavy heart. “If there was ever a chance for us to fix things, it was a long time ago. We’ve missed that chance. Brendan and I just don’t see things the same way anymore. I don’t think there’s any love left between us.”
“You do what you need to do, honey,” my mother said. “If your mental health is telling you that you need a fresh start, then that’s what you should go for.”
I took her advice to heart and spent my time taking long walks with Pippy, my parents’ dog. I needed to clear my head and give myself the space to breathe.
https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?gdpr=0&us_privacy=1—&gpp_sid=-1&client=ca-pub-1773658762833587&output=html&h=280&adk=1030787214&adf=44561737&pi=t.aa~a.95137260~i.57~rp.4&w=622&abgtt=7&fwrn=4&fwrnh=100&lmt=1725902328&num_ads=1&rafmt=1&armr=3&sem=mc&pwprc=1191565633&ad_type=text_image&format=622×280&url=https%3A%2F%2Fjokesdaddy.com%2Fi-returned-home-to-find-my-furniture-on-the-curb-my-exs-revenge-was-a-total-flop%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwY2xjawFMDSVleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHYAHkHko4VBJwIKgo-i2YcTNliNhvQJKX2gLUYIJeKwHrdqYp9JbH7Enog_aem_8Tw_lJmy-8mQGSYVjGHsWg&host=ca-host-pub-2644536267352236&fwr=0&pra=3&rh=156&rw=622&rpe=1&resp_fmts=3&wgl=1&fa=27&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMC4zLjAiLCJ4ODYiLCIiLCIxMDkuMC41NDE0LjE2OCIsbnVsbCwwLG51bGwsIjY0IixbWyJOb3RfQSBCcmFuZCIsIjk5LjAuMC4wIl0sWyJHb29nbGUgQ2hyb21lIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXSxbIkNocm9taXVtIiwiMTA5LjAuNTQxNC4xNjgiXV0sMF0.&dt=1725902294148&bpp=1&bdt=1522&idt=2&shv=r20240904&mjsv=m202409040101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3Da1918bbb8764ee47%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MaZVumXXHZ_r8ay8rIc_wLHZkNFRA&gpic=UID%3D00000de8294ca1d6%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DALNI_MYK6Nwd1vVe2KMyk5-RmsEA7W_MdQ&eo_id_str=ID%3D416b984e50de4687%3AT%3D1712800604%3ART%3D1725902290%3AS%3DAA-AfjaIy_YNLEGxhgDI–Ucx1la&prev_fmts=0x0%2C980x280%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C1031x592%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C622x280%2C622x280&nras=10&correlator=1544306263510&frm=20&pv=1&u_tz=420&u_his=2&u_h=768&u_w=1360&u_ah=728&u_aw=1360&u_cd=24&u_sd=1&dmc=8&adx=46&ady=4736&biw=1031&bih=592&scr_x=0&scr_y=2400&eid=44759876%2C44759927%2C44759837%2C31086863%2C44795921%2C95331689%2C95338228%2C95341662%2C95342032&oid=2&psts=AOrYGsmf74lC_o21lLWT-y8JkPdukEJjdEVLTcFNTTiI2MZtQZOn7gm9fqBXJQ204LPhK5TyyxqB7RJhCBpYrWpEH-d-pg%2CAOrYGslm7CZaHYJzHMUmoGvGJvYYp6CdXPnY5Kqrg8UwXSl9jtcaAW2FWR21z4RRl7V_999Rm6DuOU4vb3WsX2AqBwh4lOA%2CAOrYGsn1iALXUthP_uepeflxfYJ3mJhDDjEuRc4KMfVMdd9wGa9hfSH_6kGIKr7cb7_mBUbdcC5gbV6sbGZ2HwBUV2-sNAY&pvsid=1127631096421780&tmod=632698115&uas=3&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fl.facebook.com%2F&fc=1408&brdim=147%2C16%2C147%2C16%2C1360%2C0%2C1064%2C712%2C1048%2C592&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7Cs%7C&abl=NS&fu=128&bc=31&bz=1.02&psd=W251bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLDNd&ifi=9&uci=a!9&btvi=7&fsb=1&dtd=34664
“You’re making the right choice,” I reassured myself. “There’s nothing wrong with starting over.”
When I got home on Monday morning, expecting to find Brendan and his things gone, I was met with a shock.
My entire collection of furniture, from before and during our marriage, was spread all over the lawn. A huge hand-painted sign that said “Free Stuff!” was proudly displayed, inviting anyone passing by to take whatever they wanted.
“What on earth is this?” I muttered, slamming the car door.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My coffee table, the flea market couch, and even my grandmother’s old rocking chair were all out on the lawn, baking in the sun and waiting to be taken by anyone who passed by.
I kicked the sign down so it lay flat and pulled out my phone, my hands shaking as I dialed Brendan. After three rings, he finally answered.
“Hey, what’s up, Gina?” he answered, sounding 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.
“You were going to sue for all my money anyway,” he said. “I heard you on the phone with someone. I know you wanted everything, or at least half of it! 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 getting my share of his money, but the weekend away with my parents had taught me to let it go.
“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 it wouldn’t help. Brendan had made up his mind, and like any dog with a bone, there was no reasoning with him.
I crouched down and opened the drawer, where I found a small, velvet pouch. As I opened it, my heart raced. Inside was a stunning gold necklace with a large diamond pendant—one that Brendan had always bragged about but claimed was lost.
I couldn’t believe my luck. Brendan’s petty move had actually handed me a priceless item. I smiled despite everything.
I took a deep breath, feeling a spark of satisfaction. This necklace, once a symbol of Brendan’s arrogance, was now mine. I packed it away carefully, deciding it would be my little piece of revenge.
Seeing the family heirloom tucked away in the drawer, a smirk crept onto my face despite my anger. Brendan’s father’s watch, a cherished piece that he rarely wore, was now in my hands.
“Stupid Brendan,” I muttered under my breath. He’d clearly overlooked this valuable item in his hasty revenge.
I carefully wrapped the watch and tucked it into my bag alongside the necklace. As much as the whole situation had been frustrating, it felt good to have something of value—something Brendan truly cared about—as a small victory in this mess.
As I slipped Brendan’s watch into my pocket, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph. “Checkmate,” I said to myself, a small smile on my face. He had left it out there for anyone to take, and I wasn’t about to let this opportunity go to waste.
Next, I quickly texted my friends, asking for help to move everything back into the house. Their support would be crucial in getting my belongings back inside safely.
“Brendan is the worst, Gina,” my friend Jenny said, carrying a lamp. “This is a new low.”
“Yeah, I agree with you there,” I replied. “But don’t worry, I’ve got a way to get back at him.”
I explained to Jenny about the watch and how I had it safely tucked away in my car. I was sure Brendan would eventually notice it was missing, and I was ready to use it as a bargaining chip.
“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 them back to you.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
“Gina, it’s my dad’s watch. My granddad’s watch. I really need it back.”
I let the silence stretch for a moment before responding.
“I see. Well, like I said, it’s with Cathy. But I’m sure she’ll be reasonable. You know, for the right price.”
I nodded and said, “Thanks. You can leave now.”
“I’ll get in touch with you about the divorce. My lawyer has some things to discuss with us,” he replied.
“Cool,” I said simply.
Brendan did a double-take, then took the watch from me and walked away slowly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
Leave a Reply