After a problematic marriage, Kelly and Peter get divorced. But her ex-mother-in-law just doesn’t want to let things go. From ripping off wallpaper to stealing an entire shower cabin, Lorraine just keeps testing Kelly’s patience until reality hits, and Lorraine learns her own lesson.
I’m Kelly, and I’ve been divorced from my ex-husband, Peter, for about six months now. We were married for ten years, and while the marriage wasn’t perfect, it was my life.
Until I found out about his affair.
That was the last straw, and everything came crashing down. The divorce was messy and painful, and to top it off, I had to deal with his mother, Lorraine, who was a nightmare in human form.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Lorraine never liked me. Even when we were married, she made it perfectly clear that I wasn’t good enough for her son.
“I’m just being honest with you, Kelly. Peter is used to a certain way of life since being with me. I’m his mother, and I taught him that perfection is the only option here. You’re… I mean. Let’s face it, doll. You’re far from perfect.”
When Peter and I split up, she went out of her way to help him get as much as he could from me. Money, property, some of my wedding jewelry, you name it. If it was valuable, she made sure that I lost it.
A woman’s jewelry box | Source: Midjourney
I kept telling myself that once the divorce was over and Peter moved out, I’d finally have peace.
But the peace didn’t last.
One day, I came home from work early because I had a headache from staring at my laptop all day, and I was exhausted, ready to collapse, only to stop dead in my tracks in the hallway outside my apartment.
Sitting there, in the common corridor, was my shower cabin. It had a big, bold “Peter’s Property” sticker plastered across it as if I might somehow forget who it belonged to. My stomach sank.
A woman standing in the doorway | Source: Midjourney
What the hell was going on?
When I stepped into my apartment, I was hit by a cloud of dust and ripped wallpaper. The walls were half-bare, and I heard a ripping sound coming from down the hallway. Turning the corner, I came face-to-face with Lorraine, my ex-mother-in-law, tearing the wallpaper right off my walls.
She muttered under her breath about how she didn’t want to leave any “traces” of Peter’s work.
A pile of ripped wallpaper | Source: Midjourney
“What the hell, Lorraine?” I demanded, pushing my way into the kitchen, the only place untouched by her hands.
Lorraine looked up at me, not even flinching.
“This is all his work,” she said with that haughty tone she’d perfected over the years. “He put up this wallpaper, so it’s his to take down. And the shower cabin, it’s coming with us too. We’re not leaving anything for you.”
An angry older woman | Source: Midjourney
I was stunned. How low could they go? I’d already been drained emotionally by the divorce, and now this?
I felt helpless, watching her tear apart my home, muttering the whole time about how Peter “wasn’t leaving a single thing behind” for me. She was ripping wallpaper, unplugging light fixtures, and muttering about every single piece of the apartment that Peter had once touched.
“Lorraine,” I said. “Please, just stop. This is unfair…”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
But she didn’t even look at me. She just kept on, pulling down wallpaper and yanking at the shower frame. I felt a familiar lump rising in my throat. I was tired, too tired to fight anymore, so I just slumped onto the couch feeling numb and defeated as I watched her continue her destruction.
The next day, just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, Lorraine stormed back into my apartment. This time, though, she wasn’t there to take anything; she was there for help.
An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney
“Kelly,” she cried, grabbing my arm with a desperation I’d never seen in her before. “You have to help me. Please. I’ll give you anything. Just… please help him.”
I blinked at her, confused.
“Help who? What are you talking about?”
“Peter!” she wailed, her voice breaking. “He’s in trouble. I don’t care what it takes. Please, you have to save him.”
A crying older woman | Source: Midjourney
I pulled my arm free.
“Lorraine, what are you talking about?”
She looked at me, her eyes wide and pleading.
“Peter had an accident. A really terrible one. He was out drinking, and it was late. It’s really bad, Kelly. He’s hurt. Please, you have to help him.”
A car accident | Source: Midjourney
A pang shot through my chest. Peter, the man who had cheated, manipulated, and broken me, now needed my help?
A tiny voice in my head whispered that I should help him, that it was the right thing to do. But then the memories of all he’d done to me resurfaced — all the lies and manipulation.
He’d torn apart my life, and now he was paying the price.
A man in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
Wasn’t that fair? Wasn’t it poetic justice in a way?
I looked back at Lorraine, who was practically on her knees.
“I’m not saving Peter, Lorraine. He made his choices. He’s finally dealing with the consequences of his actions. It was his drinking that made things really unpleasant for us. It brought out the worst in him. And you want me to get involved again?”
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Her face twisted with anger and her mouth set into a tight line.
“You’ll regret this, Kelly,” she hissed. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
I crossed my arms and met her gaze.
“No, Lorraine, I think you’re the one who’ll regret it.”
An angry woman | Source: Midjourney
The days that followed were filled with rumors. I heard bits and pieces about Peter’s accident, about how he’d been drinking, how he was lucky to be alive, apparently. But his recovery was rough. He was in debt, and things were piling up.
I felt a mix of relief and anger. Finally, Peter was facing something that he couldn’t charm his way out of. I decided to go to his place. I mean, I was done with Peter, but I wasn’t heartless. I just wanted to see what he looked like in the aftermath of it all.
“Come in,” he called as I knocked on the front door of Lorraine’s house.
A woman standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney
At least she wasn’t home. I didn’t want to see the satisfaction on her face. To Lorraine, it would look like I wanted to help, as though I couldn’t help myself and couldn’t stay away from Peter.
“Kelly?” he enthusiastically said when he saw me.
“Peter,” I said, taking in the room.
A man on a couch | Source: Midjourney
It was a far cry from the strict house that Lorraine usually kept. Instead, there were containers of Chinese food lying around, discarded bottles of water, chocolate wrappers, and dirty mugs. Peter had really taken Lorraine’s house and made it a mess.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, lying on the couch. “I need some help, Kelly. I need my hospital bills to be paid as soon as possible. Can you do it? Please? They’ll take my car!”
“Seriously, Peter?” I asked. “I just came to make sure that you were okay physically. I’m not about to sort your life out. I’m not spending a cent on you.”
Mugs and bottles on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
“Then why bother to come here?” he demanded.
“I don’t know, but clearly it was a mistake,” I said, turning around and leaving without another word.
Then, about a week later, Lorraine showed up at my door again. She wasn’t the same person who’d stormed in before. Her shoulders were slumped, her eyes tired and haunted. She looked like a woman who’d aged ten years in a matter of days.
A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“Kelly,” she began, her voice barely a whisper. “I know I don’t deserve it, but… but I came to apologize.”
I didn’t say anything. I just put the kettle on and allowed her to keep talking.
“I was wrong about Peter,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “He’s not the man I thought he was. He ruined everything, and he pushed everyone away. I thought I was helping him all these years, but I was only making things worse.”
An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney
A part of me felt a glimmer of satisfaction seeing her so defeated. But then I noticed the genuine grief in her expression, the regret she could no longer hide.
She wasn’t just devastated about Peter’s actions; she was grieving the son she thought she had. The realization was so clear: he had been just as manipulative with her as he’d been with me. Lorraine had been caught in his web of lies, just like I had.
An upset older woman | Source: Midjourney
At that moment, something inside me softened. Lorraine wasn’t just the bitter woman who had fought against me during the divorce. She was a mother, broken by the son she’d devoted her life to.
Still, I didn’t really want to allow myself to get back into their lives. So, I invited Lorraine to stay for dinner. At least I could give her a decent meal before she went back to Peter.
Food on a table | Source: Midjourney
Months later, I received a short, handwritten letter from him. It wasn’t an excuse; it was an apology.
Kelly, I’m so sorry for everything. For betraying you, for the pain I caused. I’m working on myself now, trying to figure out who I am without all the lies. I don’t expect forgiveness. I just want you to know that I’m trying.
It was strange reading those words. But I got a sense of closure that I’d thought I’d never get.
A woman reading a letter in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
I Came to My Wedding and Saw My Mom in a Wedding Dress with a Bouquet
Ever since Nicole began planning her wedding, her mother had gotten very involved. When Nicole asks her to take a step back, she does so. But on the big day, her mother shows up in a wedding dress after mysteriously receiving a call instructing her to. Nicole is left fuming when she discovers who has preyed on her mother’s feelings, ensuring she will destroy them.
When Peter and I got engaged, I promised myself that the wedding planning would be smooth and easy.
A man proposing | Source: Pexels
Growing up, I wasn’t like the other girls who spent their time daydreaming about their weddings. I just knew that it would eventually happen one day, and I would need cupcakes at my wedding reception.
That was it.
A little girl playing dress up | Source: Pexels
So, I always knew that when it came to the actual event, I would need my mother to guide me.
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.
I Came Home to My Husband and His Ex Digging My Garden – What They Hid Years Ago Made Me Pale
Margaret never expected to come home to find her husband, Martin, frantically digging up their beautiful garden alongside his ex-wife. Their hushed whispers and dirt-stained hands hinted at long-buried secrets. Upon confrontation, Margaret realized Martin wasn’t as perfect as she thought.
I’ve heard of men cheating on their wives with their colleagues, friends, and even exes, but I never thought I’d be forced to think like that about my husband, Martin. I always thought he was the perfect man I could’ve asked for.
A man smiling | Source: Midjourney
We met through a mutual friend two years ago, right after I’d broken up with my ex-boyfriend of five years. I was at my lowest… heartbroken, insecure, and questioning everything about myself.
That’s when Martin came into my life, like a breath of fresh air.
From the moment we met, he was nothing but kind and attentive. He’d listen to me ramble about my day for hours, never once checking his phone or looking bored.
A woman talking to her boyfriend | Source: Midjourney
What really won my heart was how he showed up at my doorstep with homemade chicken soup and my favorite rom-com movies downloaded on his laptop.
“Everyone needs a little TLC when they’re sick,” he said with a warm smile.
This is it, I thought. This is the man I’ve been waiting for all my life.
One of the things that endeared Martin to me was his cute little quirk. He’d stammer when he got nervous or stressed, and I found it absolutely adorable.
A man talking to his girlfriend at home | Source: Midjourney
There was this one time, about a month into our relationship, when he was taking me out to this fancy Italian restaurant for our “monthiversary” (yes, we celebrated those back then).
Martin was all dressed up, telling me about this new accounting software his firm was implementing, getting all excited and animated.
“It’s going to revolutionize how we handle client data,” he said, waving his fork around for emphasis. Suddenly, the fork slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor and splattering tomato sauce all over his shirt.
His face turned red in an instant.
A man feeling embarrassed | Source: Midjourney
“I-I-I’m so s-sorry,” he stammered, looking mortified. “I d-didn’t m-mean to… Oh g-god, what a m-mess.”
I couldn’t help but find his flustered state endearing. I reached across the table and took his hand.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said softly. “These things happen. Besides, red is totally your color.”
That got a chuckle out of him, and soon we were laughing about it. Later, over tiramisu, he admitted that he tended to stammer when stressed or embarrassed.
A woman talking to her boyfriend | Source: Midjourney
As our relationship progressed, Martin opened up more about his past, particularly about his ex-wife, Janet.
“She was always after more,” he’d say, shaking his head. “More money, more things, more status. Nothing was ever enough.”
According to Martin, their marriage had crumbled under the weight of Janet’s insatiable greed. He told me stories of maxed-out credit cards, arguments over designer clothes, and tantrums thrown when they couldn’t afford lavish vacations.
A man recalling his past | Source: Midjourney
“That’s why we broke up,” he explained one night as we cuddled on the couch. “I just couldn’t keep up with her demands anymore. It was like I was drowning, and she kept pushing my head underwater.”
How could anyone treat such a wonderful man so poorly? I thought.
That day, I vowed that I would never be like that. I would appreciate Martin for who he was, not what he could give me.
A man hugging his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney
When Martin proposed a year into our relationship, I didn’t hesitate to say yes. Our wedding was small but beautiful, and it was the best day of my life.
Fast forward to last Tuesday. I had just spent the weekend at my mother’s place and was looking forward to getting home. I decided to surprise Martin with his favorite lasagna for dinner.
However, as I pulled into our driveway, I saw something that made me slam on the brakes too hard.
Front view of a car | Source: Pexels
There, in our front yard, were two people digging up my beloved garden. And not just any two people. It was Martin and a woman I recognized from photos as Janet, his ex-wife.
I sat in the car for a moment, blinking rapidly, wondering if my eyes were playing tricks on me. But no, they were there, digging up all the flowers I had worked so hard to grow.
What was Janet doing here? Why was she with Martin? And why on earth were they destroying my garden?
A woman in her car, looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
At that point, I got out of the car and marched over to them.
“What’s going on here?” I demanded, my voice trembling with anger.
Martin’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock. “M-M-Margaret!” he exclaimed, dropping the shovel with a clang. “Y-you’re h-home e-early.”
He’s stammering, I thought.
At that moment, all my worst fears came rushing in. Martin only stammered when he was truly stressed or nervous. But why? What was he hiding?
A man standing outside his house | Source: Midjourney
My mind raced with possibilities. Was he cheating on me with Janet? Had they never really broken up? Or was it something even more sinister? Why else would they be digging up our yard in secret?
“W-we were just…” he started, but Janet cut him off.
“Oh, you didn’t tell her?” she began. “Love, she DESERVES to know that 10 years ago we buried a time capsule.”
“A time capsule?” I repeated numbly.
A woman talking to her husband’s ex-wife | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, we buried one when we were still together. When we lived here,” she revealed, gesturing to a muddy metal box near her feet. “We always planned to dig it up someday.”
Martin nodded, looking sheepish. “Y-yeah. We, uh, we thought it would be fun to look back on our memories.”
“Your memories,” I echoed. “So, you decided to destroy my garden for your little trip down memory lane?”
“I-I’m sorry,” Martin stammered. “I d-didn’t think—”
A man standing outside his house | Source: Midjourney
“No, you didn’t think,” I snapped before storming into the house.
Inside, I paced the living room, trying to process what had just happened. How could Martin do this? How could he keep this secret from me? And how dare he prioritize his past with Janet over our life together?
I heard the front door open and close, followed by hushed voices in the hallway. Then Martin called out, “Margaret? Can we talk?”
A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney
I took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway. Martin and Janet were standing there with the muddy time capsule between them.
“What’s there to talk about?” I asked coldly.
“Please, let us explain,” Martin pleaded. “It’s not what you think.”
Janet nodded. “We just wanted to reminisce a bit. There’s nothing —”
I held up a hand, cutting her off.
“You know what? Fine. Go ahead. Reminisce. Dig up your past. I’ll be outside.”
A woman talking to her husband’s ex-wife | Source: Midjourney
I brushed past them and went outside. As I looked at the mess they had made of my garden, an idea formed in my mind.
So, I started gathering wood for a bonfire. By the time I had a good blaze going on, the sun had almost set. I could hear Martin and Janet in the kitchen, laughing over something they’d found in the time capsule.
“Hey,” I called out. “Why don’t you guys bring that stuff out here? We could have a nice little bonfire.”
A bonfire in the garden | Source: Pexels
A few minutes later, they joined me outside, and Martin put the time capsule on the ground.
“This is nice,” he smiled.
I nodded and reached into the box to grab a handful of its contents. I had a few old photos and letters in my hand.
“Margaret, what are you —” Martin started, but his words died in his throat as I tossed everything into the fire.
“What are you doing?” Janet demanded.
A woman standing with her mouth open | Source: Midjourney
“Burnt bridges should stay burnt, don’t you think?” I said firmly. “It’s time to focus less on the past and more on the future we’re supposed to be building together, Martin.”
I watched as the flames consumed their memories, thinking this wasn’t how I imagined our life together. However, it also gave me hope that maybe we could build something new from here. Something honest and real.
Looking at Martin, I also realized he wasn’t the perfect man I thought I’d married. He was just as flawed as the rest of us.
A man standing near a bonfire | Source: Midjourney
Suddenly, Janet broke the silence.
“I think I should go,” she said, backing away from the fire. Neither Martin nor I tried to stop her as she hurried out of the yard.
Once we were alone, Martin turned to me with tears in his eyes.
“Margaret, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I never meant to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you about the time capsule.”
I took a deep breath, “Did you think I wouldn’t understand?”
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
“I was afraid,” he admitted. “Afraid you’d think I still had feelings for Janet, afraid you’d be upset about the garden. I thought if I could just dig it up quickly while you were away, it would be over and done with. But I guess I was wrong. I messed up, big time. Can you ever forgive me?”
“I don’t know, Martin,” I said honestly, staring at the fire. “You’ve broken my trust. That’s not something that can be fixed overnight.”
A woman looking away while talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
“We have a lot to talk about, and a lot to work through,” I continued. “But not tonight. Tonight, I need some space.”
“Of course,” Martin nodded. “I’ll… I’ll sleep on the couch.”
As he returned to the house, I remained by the fire, watching it slowly die down.
The garden needs to be replanted, I thought. New seeds, new soil, new life. Maybe our relationship could be the same way.
Only time would tell which path we’d choose. But one thing was certain, my thoughts regarding Martin would never be the same again.
A woman standing in the garden, thinking | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done if you were in my place?
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