When Anna, a single mom of three, finally gets promoted, her sleazy landlord hikes the rent… just because he can. But he’s about to learn the hard way that underestimating a tired woman with nothing left to lose is the biggest mistake of all. This time, Anna’s done playing nice.
I’m not usually a petty person. I don’t have the time. Between raising three kids and juggling a full-time job, petty has never fit into my calendar. But when someone comes for my peace, my babies and the roof over our heads… just because I caught a break?
Well. I don’t go down swinging. I go down strategizing.
A tired woman | Source: Midjourney
Let me back it up for you.
I’m Anna. I’m 36 and a single mom of three. My kids are my world, Liam’s eleven and he’s the kind of boy who holds doors without being asked and notices when I’ve had a hard day without saying a word.
Maya’s seven, loud and bold and always asking the questions no one else will. And then there’s Atlas, my four-year-old. He’s a walking tornado in Lightning McQueen socks, with curls that spring back no matter how often I try to tame them.
A smiling little boy | Source: Midjourney
Our mornings start before the sun even considers rising. I’m up by five, packing lunches, tying laces, brushing tangles and reheating coffee I’ll never get to finish. I work full-time as a team lead at a logistics company, though recently, I earned the title of Operations Manager.
After eight years of staying late, skipping lunch breaks and never taking sick days, someone finally saw me. The raise wasn’t huge but it meant that maybe, just maybe, I could start saying yes when my kids asked for something simple.
New shoes without holes. A school trip without borrowing from next month’s grocery fund. Name-brand cereal.
An aisle in a supermarket | Source: Midjourney
We’d been living in a modest two-bedroom rental for five years. We moved in just before Atlas was born. Just before their father, Ed, left the scene. The kids shared a room with bunk beds that creaked every time someone rolled over. I slept on the pull-out couch, my back a roadmap of tension and long days.
But it was ours.
Safe, clean, just 15 minutes from school and work. It wasn’t much but it was home.
A pull-out couch in a living room | Source: Midjourney
Frank, our landlord, was the kind of man who liked owning things, especially people’s silence. He ignored texts, delayed repairs and once told me, “With all those kids, you should be grateful you’ve got a place at all.”
I swallowed my pride and paid the rent. Because stability is priceless… until someone tries to sell it back to you at a markup.
Frank had this charming habit of treating me like a squatter who’d somehow lucked into a lease. He didn’t see a tenant, he saw a woman one missed payment away from being disposable.
An old man wearing a navy t-shirt | Source: Midjourney
Maintenance requests were met with silence, followed by slow, begrudging replies. The broken heater in December?
I texted him three times before he finally responded with, “Layer up, Anna. You and the kids. It’s not that cold.”
When the kitchen faucet exploded like a rusted geyser, soaking my shoes and nearly electrocuting the toaster, his response was just as bad.
A running tap | Source: Midjourney
“I can swing by next Thursday if it’s really urgent.”
But it was never urgent to him. Not the ants, the mold, or the fact that my front door lock jammed every single time it rained. He made me feel like asking for basic safety was asking for too much.
The worst part though?
It was the way he looked at me when we ran into each other, like a struggling single mom was a cautionary tale, not a human being. He once smirked.
A close up of an older man | Source: Midjourney
“You should be grateful you’ve got a place at all with all those kids.”
It was like my children were baggage. Like our home was a favor.
Still, I kept paying. On time, every month. Because starting over was expensive and even when the rent crept higher, it was still less than anywhere else that felt safe.
A pensive woman standing outside | Source: Midjourney
Then came the promotion.
It wasn’t fanfare and confetti but it was mine. A quiet win, hard-earned. I updated my LinkedIn.
“After years of juggling work and motherhood, I’m proud to say I’ve been promoted to Operations Manager. Hard work pays off!”
I didn’t expect applause. But I got kind messages from coworkers, old classmates, even one mom from daycare I barely knew.
An open laptop on a table | Source: Midjourney
“You make the impossible look easy,” she’d said.
I read that one three times.
I cried in the breakroom. It was just a few tears. Quiet ones. It felt like someone finally saw me, not just the tired eyes and the late arrivals.
Me.
Two days later, I got an email from Frank.
An emotional woman in a breakroom at work | Source: Midjourney
Subject: Rental Adjustment Notice
He was raising my rent by $500. No upgrades. No justification.
“Saw your little promotion post. Congrats! Figured that now’s the perfect time to squeeze a bit more out of you.”
I stared at the screen, blinking like the words might rearrange themselves into something less vile. Surely, this wasn’t real. It had to be a mistake. Some glitch. Maybe he’d sent it to the wrong tenant.
A woman sitting with her laptop | Source: Midjourney
I called him immediately, my hand trembling as I held the phone to my ear.
“Frank, that’s a massive increase,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’ve never missed rent. We have a lease…”
“Look,” he cut me off with a chuckle. “You wanted a career and a bunch of kids, that comes with bills. You’re not broke anymore, so don’t expect charity. If someone’s making more, they can pay more. It’s simple math, Anna. This is business, honey, not a daycare.”
A man talking on a phone | Source: Midjourney
I sat there, stunned, my mouth dry. My hand dropped into my lap, still clutching the phone. I could hear the kids laughing from the living room. Their laughter was so normal, so innocent, and it made the bile rise in my throat.
I hung up without another word.
That night, after bedtime routines were done and three small bodies were tucked into sheets that didn’t match, I found myself in the laundry room, holding a pile of mismatched socks like it was going to ground me.
Socks in a laundry basket | Source: Midjourney
I stood there for a long time.
There’s a specific kind of cry you have to hold in so your kids don’t hear it. The kind that sits in your chest, burning and shaking. That’s the one I swallowed.
Liam found me there. Barefoot, silent, gentle.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Just tired,” I tried to smile.
A little boy standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney
He nodded, settling beside me, back against the dryer.
“We’ll be okay,” he said, eyes on the floor. “You always figure it out.”
And somehow, hearing that from him broke me more than Frank ever could. And that’s when I made a decision.
I wasn’t going to beg. I wasn’t going to plead with Frank or scrape together money I didn’t have or sacrifice groceries for rent. I was done playing nice for people who saw kindness as weakness.
A woman leaning against a wall | Source: Midjourney
I was going to teach him something.
That week, I handed in my 30-day notice. No drama. Just a signed letter, slid into his mailbox like a resignation from his nonsense.
That same night, I opened my phone and posted in every local parenting and housing group I belonged to. Nothing flashy. Just the truth.
A red mailbox | Source: Midjourney
“Looking for a family-friendly rental? Avoid 116 Muscut Avenue. Landlord just raised rent by $500 because I got a promotion. Punishing working moms for succeeding? Not today, ladies and gents.”
I didn’t name him. I didn’t need to.
The post exploded overnight.
Moms started commenting with their own horror stories. One said Frank made her pay six months in advance because “women are flakey.” Another shared screenshots where he refused to fix mold because “it’s just a cosmetic issue, Jane.”
A phone on a table | Source: Midjourney
There were eye rolls. Rage reacts. One woman called him “a sleazy slumlord in a polo shirt.” Another said he once told her she should “marry rich if she wanted better maintenance.”
Then came Jodie. She was a mom I barely knew from PTA circles. She messaged me privately.
“Anna, this man tried to rent me that same unit and asked if my husband would co-sign. And do you want to know why? Just in case I got pregnant and couldn’t work.”
Jodie had receipts. And she posted them.
A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney
Two days later, the post got picked up by a real estate watchdog page for our county. Someone even made a TikTok with dramatic piano music and transitions, zooming in on side-by-side photos of his crusty listing and my original post.
It was glorious.
And then, what do you know? Old Frank texted me.
“Hey, Anna. I’ve been thinking. Maybe the increase was too much too fast. Let’s keep the rent the same, yeah?”
A man texting on his phone | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t reply right away.
Instead, I picked up Maya from dance, still sweaty and glitter-speckled. I got Atlas from preschool, where he’d taped three pieces of construction paper together and called it a “rocket dog.”
I sat next to Liam while he worked through long division, his brows furrowed in concentration, his pencil chewed beyond saving.
A close up of a little girl | Source: Midjourney
I kissed all three of their heads like I always did, Maya’s quick, Atlas’s sticky, and Liam’s slightly embarrassed but tolerant. I made grilled cheese with the last slices of bread and pretended not to notice we were out of milk again.
I read “The Gruffalo” twice because Atlas asked.
“Do the monster voice again!” he whispered excitedly. I did it, even though my throat burned.
Grilled cheese sandwiches on a board | Source: Midjourney
Only after they were tucked in, only after I sat on the edge of my pull-out couch and stared at the chipped paint on the wall, did I finally reply.
“Thanks, Frank. But I’ve already signed a lease somewhere else. Just make sure to list the place as ‘pet-free’ though. The rats under the sink might not get along with the new tenant’s cat.”
He didn’t bother to respond. And I assumed that he had accepted my final notice.
We moved out at the end of the month. I didn’t cry when I closed the door. I didn’t look back.
A woman standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney
A friend from one of the housing groups connected me to her cousin’s landlord. That’s how we found our new place. It’s a bit smaller, sure, but it has three real bedrooms.
No more bunk beds that creak, no more sleeping on coils and springs. There’s a patch of grass in the back, uneven, a little wild.
Atlas calls it his farm. Maya braided dandelions into a crown on our first weekend there. Liam’s already claimed the room with the best light and has started drawing again.
A dandelion crown on grass | Source: Midjourney
And our new landlord, Mrs. Calder?
She brought over a welcome basket with mini muffins and a handwritten card. She remembered all their names the next week. When I teared up, she pretended not to notice.
That night, after the chaos of moving boxes and tangled chargers and someone losing their only left shoe, we lay on the living room floor, all four of us. I stared at the ceiling and let myself exhale for the first time in months.
A basket of mini-muffins | Source: Midjourney
“Is this our forever home?” Atlas curled against me and whispered.
“It’s our better home,” I said. “Maybe our forever home… let’s see, okay?”
A week later, Frank’s listing popped up online. The rent was slashed by $300. Still no takers.
Sometimes, I still get DMs.
“I saw your post, thank you. I needed a push to get out.”
“He tried the same thing with me. Not this time!”
A little boy laying on a carpet | Source: Midjourney
It turns out, in a world where rent rises faster than hope, word of mouth is currency.
And respect? That costs nothing.
So if you think single moms are easy targets, if you think we’re too tired to fight back, too busy to speak up, just know…
We carry diaper bags and receipts. And we remember everything.
A smiling woman wearing a green sweater | Source: Midjourney
A few weeks after the move, once the boxes were flattened and the air finally smelled like us instead of dust and cardboard, I invited Mrs. Calder over for dinner.
I didn’t have much but I made the kind of meal that says thank you when words don’t stretch far enough. Roast chicken with herbed potatoes and carrots and enough gravy to drown every bite in comfort.
Liam peeled the carrots while pretending he was on a cooking show. Maya sprinkled rosemary with dramatic flair. Atlas was in charge of buttering the rolls, which mostly meant licking his fingers and smearing butter on his cheek.
A roast chicken with vegetables | Source: Midjourney
When Mrs. Calder arrived, she brought a peach cobbler and a bouquet of sunflowers. She wore a cardigan with cats on it and smiled like someone who meant it.
“I haven’t had a home-cooked meal with kids running around in years,” she said as she stepped inside. “This is already my favorite dinner.”
Dinner was full of laughter and seconds and gravy on everything. Liam explained how potatoes absorb flavor better when they’re slightly smashed. Maya insisted the chicken was juicier because she had whispered compliments to it while it roasted.
A peach cobbler | Source: Midjourney
Atlas dropped his roll, cried, then cheered when it bounced off his chair and landed on the table again. At one point, I caught myself watching them instead of eating. My children. Safe. Loud. Full.
“You’ve made this house feel like a home, Anna,” Mrs. Calder said. “Not many people can do that in just a few weeks.”
I didn’t trust myself to speak. So I just smiled. And for the first time in a long time, it felt like we weren’t just surviving.
We were rooting.
A smiling older woman in a cat cardigan | Source: Midjourney
My Manicurist Told Me About Her Lover, Only to Realize She Was Talking About My Husband
My husband surprised me with an appointment with my manicurist, but during our session, I discovered the woman was cheating with him! Angry, I tried to retaliate by getting revenge, but when the truth came out, I was left with egg on my face!
When I went in for my manicurist appointment that day, I had no idea that I was about to get more than what I bargained for. What I discovered had me seething as I imagined the worst about my loving husband. But before we get there, let me backtrack a bit to the day before…
A woman at a beauty parlor | Source: Midjourney
It had been a long day of privately tutoring a mix of energetic six-year-olds learning their ABCs and a precocious eight-year-old trying to ace his fractions. By the time I got home, I was completely drained. Adam, my husband of seven years, greeted me with his signature boyish smile and a kiss on the forehead.
“How’s my favorite teacher?” he asked, handing me a cup of herbal tea.
“Tired,” I replied with a laugh, plopping onto the couch. “But your tea makes it better.”
A happy woman drinking tea | Source: Midjourney
Adam always had a way of making me feel like the most important person in the world. We were one of those couples people envied, with a solid partnership full of love and shared dreams.
We had just started planning for a family, and I’d been secretly pinning nursery ideas to my Pinterest board.
“I might have to work late tonight, and tomorrow I’ll be staying at work overnight, unfortunately,” Adam said, running a hand through his dark hair. “Big project at the office.”
A man running his hand through his hair | Source: Midjourney
I nodded, not thinking much of it. His job as a successful manager for a mid-sized marketing firm often demanded odd hours.
“Just don’t overwork yourself, okay?”
“I won’t,” he promised, kissing me again before adding, “To make it up to you, I booked an appointment for you tomorrow afternoon at Lily’s Luxe Nails.”
I got up and thanked him with a kiss before he gave me one on the cheek and disappeared into his home office.
A woman getting a kiss from her man | Source: Midjourney
The next day, I went and treated myself to the rare indulgence of a trip to Lily’s Luxe Nails. Lily, the owner, was one of my favorite people. She had a magnetic personality, full of dramatic flair and endless gossip!
Her stories always left me laughing or clutching my pearls.
As I settled into the chair, Lily approached with her usual wide grin.
“Honey, you’re glowing! Your hubby’s treating you well?”
A manicurist | Source: Midjourney
“As always,” I said, holding out my hands for her to examine.
She laughed, taking out her tools.
“Well, at least he’s worth it. Some of us don’t get that lucky.”
Her comment caught my attention. Lily wasn’t one to complain about her personal life. In fact, she often bragged about her adventures in romance.
“Oh? Someone giving you trouble?” I asked.
A woman getting her nails done | Source: Midjourney
She smirked, leaning in conspiratorially.
“No trouble at all. I’ve been seeing someone new, a real dreamboat! Smart, funny, successful! And let me tell you, he knows how to treat a lady!”
“Good for you! What’s it like?”
Lily’s eyes sparkled. “Our relationship is UNREAL! I’ve never felt ANYTHING like this before! Not even James compares to him!”
James is Lily’s husband. I’d met him before when he came to her workplace.
A happy man | Source: Midjourney
“I guess I am an old-fashioned girl, ’cause I could never cheat on my husband, and I’m pretty sure he feels the same way,” I responded.
“Girl, that’s YOUR loss! You wouldn’t believe how romantic he is. Last week, he showed up with flowers just because he ‘felt like it.’ You also haven’t SEEN who I’m talking about, don’t even get me started on his dimples!”
“Uh huh…,” I replied, still not convinced that cheating on Adam would be a good idea.
An unsure woman | Source: Midjourney
“He’s also a manager at some company. Busy as hell, but he always makes time for me. He’s planning to meet me tonight at that cute boutique hotel across the street while telling his wife he’s working late so we can meet up. I’m counting down the minutes!”
I froze, a strange chill creeping up my spine.
“That’s sweet,” I managed to say, my voice faltering.
Lily didn’t notice…
An unhappy woman | Source: Midjourney
Dimples? My chest tightened. Adam has dimples. Adam is a manager. Adam was supposed to be working late tonight. I tried to shake off the uneasy feeling clawing at my chest. It had to be a coincidence…
“Well, do you have a picture of this ‘dream guy’? I’m curious,” I asked, hoping to quash my paranoia.
Lily grinned, pulling out her phone.
“Of course, darling! Look at this stud muffin!” she said, pulling out her phone.
My stomach dropped.
An upset woman looking at a phone | Source: Midjourney
There he was, MY Adam, smiling in the photo with his arm casually draped around Lily. I stared at the picture, willing it to be fake. Maybe I was seeing things. Maybe it was a doppelgänger. But deep down, I knew the truth.
“Wow,” I said, my voice trembling as I lost it inside but kept it together for appearances. “He’s…definitely a catch.”
“Right?” Lily gushed, completely unaware of my turmoil as she placed her phone, still unlocked, on the table.
A phone on a manicurist’s table | Source: Midjourney
I forced a laugh, but my mind was racing.
“Excuse me,” I said, standing abruptly. I grabbed her phone quickly when she wasn’t looking. “I need to use the restroom.”
Once inside, I splashed cold water on my face, trying to steady my breathing. Adam. My Adam. Cheating with Lily? I felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me. But as the shock subsided, another emotion took its place: fury.
I wasn’t going to let this slide. I started plotting, and my revenge was going to be served cold tonight at the hotel across the street.
An upset woman in the bathroom | Source: Midjourney
I quickly saved Lily’s husband’s number on my phone, as he was a big part of my revenge.
After I finished my appointment with Lily, I called her husband and told him everything I knew about her affair with Adam. He was as shocked as I was and quickly on board with getting revenge that very night!
Before heading to the hotel together later that night, I insisted we stop at the hardware store. James trailed behind me as I loaded our cart with cans of unwashable paint.
A woman with paint cans | Source: Midjourney
“What’s this for?” he asked, still trying to make sense of my erratic behavior.
“I figured we could mark the cheaters with it. You’ll see,” I said curtly.
When we arrived at the hotel, James and I stood outside the hotel with our “props,” ready to make the “couple’s” meeting unforgettable.
“Are we seriously doing this?” James asked.
“Watch me,” I said with determination as I marched straight through the hotel’s doors, paint cans in hand!
An upset woman outside a hotel with paint cans | Source: Midjourney
When I flung open the doors, I expected to catch Adam and Lily red-handed. But instead, I found myself face-to-face with an entrance full of balloons, streamers, and a massive banner that read: “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY LOVE!”
My jaw dropped. Standing in the middle of the room were Lily and Adam, grinning like a pair of mischievous kids. Behind them were my parents, my sister, and a handful of close friends!
“Surprise!” everyone yelled.
People at a surprise party | Source: Midjourney
I stood frozen, the paint cans slipping from my hands. “What…is this?” I stammered.
Adam stepped forward, his dimples on full display.
“It’s your birthday party, sweetheart! We wanted to do something special for you seeing as you ALWAYS forget your birthday.”
“Wait,” I said, my brain struggling to catch up. “So…you’re not cheating?”
Adam laughed, pulling me into a hug.
“Of course not. Lily, James, and I have been planning this for weeks!”
A man at a party | Source: Midjourney
James smiled, and that’s when I finally noticed that he’d joined the others. He stood embracing his wife as Lily chimed in, “You should’ve seen your face! Priceless!”
I burst into tears, overwhelmed with relief and embarrassment. “I thought…”
Adam cupped my face, wiping away my tears.
“I know, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone that far with the plan. I thought you’d pick up what was happening when I booked your manicurist appointment, but you have to admit, this was worth it.”
It was…
A happy man | Source: Midjourney
The party was a smashing success, filled with laughter, cake, and heartfelt toasts! By the time we left the hotel the next morning, I felt like the luckiest woman in the world, albeit a little foolish for my earlier assumptions.
As we approached Adam’s car in the parking lot, we saw “CHEATER!!!!” scrawled across the windshield in bright red lipstick.
I groaned, covering my face. “I am so, so sorry.”
An embarrassed woman | Source: Midjourney
Adam just laughed.
“It’s washable, right? Besides, it’s a good story to tell our kids one day!”
As we cleaned the car together, I couldn’t help but laugh too. If nothing else, this would be a birthday I’d never forget!
A couple outside by a car | Source: Midjourney
Sadly, Adam’s wife isn’t the only woman to suspect her husband of cheating. Click here to read about a wife who believed her husband was cheating with their son’s fiancee only to discover a much harder truth.
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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