Elara thought marriage would be her happily ever after, until cockroaches invaded her home and her mother-in-law made her life a living nightmare. But when a dark secret blurred the line between victim and villain, Elara realized that revenge was the only way out.
I’m Elara, and I’ve been married to my husband, Jacob, for about a year now. Life, for the most part, has been good, really good, actually. We settled into married life with ease, enjoying the simple pleasures of being together.
Jacob is everything I could have asked for in a husband. He is kind, supportive, and always there when I need him. But, as with most things in life, there’s a catch.
That catch is my mother-in-law, Agnes.
From the very beginning, it was clear as day that she never liked me. Whether it was the way she looked at me or the not-so-subtle digs she made, her attitude was unmistakable. I’m not sure what I did to deserve her disdain, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that she saw me as an intruder in her son’s life.
Still, she’s Jacob’s mother, and for that reason alone, I’ve tried my best to live with it. To smile through her snide remarks and keep the peace, for Jacob’s sake. But no amount of forced smiles could prepare me for what came next.
Just when I thought I could handle her passive-aggressive digs, things took a turn for the worse.
For the past month, my house has felt like something out of a nightmare. No, scratch that. MY LIFE has felt like something out of a nightmare.
It started with a cockroach here and there. One scuttling across the kitchen counter. Another creeping along the bathroom floor.
But soon, they were everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE! The kitchen, the bathroom, the living room, hell, even our bedroom wasn’t safe. I’d wake up in the middle of the night feeling a tickle on my arm, only to flick on the light and see a roach making itself at home on my bed.
We called pest control multiple times. We bought traps, sprays, you name it. But no matter what we did, the roaches kept coming back, like they had some vendetta against me. And to top it all off, my mother-in-law just couldn’t resist rubbing it in.
“Honestly, Elara,” she’d say with that sickly sweet tone of hers, “you really should take better care of the house. Jacob deserves a clean home. How can you let it get this bad?”
It didn’t stop there. One afternoon, as she sipped tea in our living room, a roach had the nerve to crawl up the wall. Agnes’s eyes followed it with a look of exaggerated horror.
“My goodness, Elara,” she gasped, clutching her chest as if she were witnessing a crime. “I can’t imagine how embarrassed you must be, living in these conditions. I never had this problem when Jacob was growing up.”
Then there was the time she “helpfully” brought over a stack of cleaning supplies, dumping them on my kitchen counter with a too-bright smile. “I thought you could use these, dear,” she said, her voice oozing with false concern. “Maybe they’ll help you get a handle on things. I’d hate for people to think you can’t keep a clean house.”
Each comment was a jab, a twist of the knife, making me feel smaller and more inadequate every time. It was as if she reveled in my struggle, her words like salt in an already festering wound.
Every time she opened her mouth, it took everything in me not to scream. I’d nod, smile, and tell her I was doing my best, but inside, I was seething. This isn’t my fault, you old witch! I wanted to shout. But of course, I couldn’t do that. Not to Jacob’s mother.
But then, the universe threw me a bone. Or rather, Agnes made a mistake. She’d come over to “check on us” again, dropping her little barbs like confetti. As she left, she accidentally left her handbag on the couch. When I went to pick it up and move it, a receipt fluttered out. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but something caught my eye.
It was from a pet store. But not just any pet store—one that specialized in reptiles. And the item purchased? LIVE COCKROACHES!
My blood ran cold. For a moment, I just stood there, staring at that stupid piece of paper in my hand. And then, slowly, the realization hit me. Agnes was behind the infestation. She’d been sabotaging me, setting me up to look like the world’s worst housekeeper.
The anger that flared up inside me was blinding. I could feel it burning in my chest, my hands trembling with the force of it. But along with the anger came something else—something darker.
I wasn’t just going to confront her. No, that would be letting her off too easily. I was going to get revenge.
I stormed out of the house, receipt still clenched in my hand, and got into my car. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew I needed to strike back. Hard. As I drove, my thoughts raced, and then it hit me. I made a quick detour to that same pet store. If she wanted to play dirty, then I’d go nuclear.
Inside, I found exactly what I was looking for—a potent animal attractant. The kind hunters use to lure wild animals from miles away. The plan formed in my head like a beautiful, terrible flower, blooming with each passing second.
When I finally pulled up to Agnes’s house, night had fallen. She lived on the outskirts of town, right next to the woods, which made this perfect. I crept around her yard, spreading the attractant everywhere. The bushes, the flower beds, even the base of the house itself. I didn’t stop there.
I slipped inside — she always left the back door unlocked, trusting as ever — and sprinkled some inside too. The whole time, my heart raced with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.
By the time I finished, I was practically shaking with anticipation. I couldn’t wait to see what would happen. But for now, I went home, crawled into bed, and let sleep take me. And oh, how sweet that sleep was.
I dreamed of revenge, of Agnes’s horrified face, of the chaos I had unleashed, and I drifted deeper into that blissful darkness, savoring every second.
Then, just as I was reliving the final moments of my delicious payback, the shrill ring of the phone yanked me from my dream. I groggily reached for it, my heart pounding. It was Jacob, and from the frantic tone of his voice, I knew something big had happened.
“Elara, you won’t believe this,” he said, half laughing, half in shock. “Mom’s house was… attacked last night!”
I sat up in bed, trying to sound groggy. “Attacked? By who?”
“Not who—what. Animals. The whole yard was swarmed! Deer, moose, foxes, even birds! They trashed everything! They tore up the garden and broke the fences. And the smell… God, the whole place reeks. It’s like the animals turned the yard into their personal toilet.”
It took everything in me to keep from bursting out laughing. “That’s awful! What’s she going to do?”
“She’s coming to stay with us until it’s cleaned up. She doesn’t have a choice.”
I felt my stomach drop. Great, I didn’t think this through. But I couldn’t let him hear the panic in my voice. “Oh, okay. We’ll make it work.”
When Agnes arrived later that day, the look on her face was priceless. She was humiliated, furious, and worst of all, powerless. She barely acknowledged me as she walked inside, nose wrinkling at the sight of the cockroaches that still plagued our house.
“Oh, don’t mind them,” I said sweetly. “They just won’t go away, no matter what we do.”
I waited until later that night, after Jacob and I were alone, to show him the receipt. He stared at it, his face hardening as the truth sank in.
“She did WHAT?” he exclaimed, disbelief giving way to anger.
“Apparently, she’s been planting roaches in the house this whole time. I found this after she left yesterday,” I said, handing him the damning piece of paper.
Jacob stormed into the guest room, confronting Agnes right then and there. She tried to deny it, but the receipt was undeniable. She stammered out an apology, her face going red with shame.
“I didn’t think it would go this far,” she mumbled, eyes glued to the floor.
“Well, it did,” Jacob snapped. “And you’re paying for the pest control and all the damage you caused. Until it’s done, you’ll have to live among the cockroaches YOU brought into our lives.”
As I listened to their exchange, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Sure, I hadn’t planned on Agnes moving in, but at least now she was getting what she deserved.
Lying in bed that night, I felt a deep, dark satisfaction settle over me. Revenge might not always be sweet, but sometimes, it’s just what you need to get by. And as for Agnes? Well, let’s just say she’ll be sleeping with the roaches tonight.
And for many nights to come.
My Sweet Old Neighbor Invited Me for Christmas Dinner – The Next Morning, I Called My Lawyer
I had been determined to climb up the corporate ladder all the way to the top since I started working and at age 35, I was almost there. But a chance conversation with someone important made me realize something that led me to call my lawyer as soon as possible!
I moved to the city nearly a year ago, chasing a career dream that had consumed the better part of my early 30s. The promotion felt like a pinnacle achievement, a stepping stone to becoming the president of the company’s regional branch. But it came with a cost I wasn’t entirely prepared for and nearly took more than I was willing to give.
An serious businesswoman | Source: Midjourney
Mark, my husband, and Alex, our six-year-old son, stayed behind in our quiet, small hometown. My husband supported me, encouraging me to seize this opportunity as I fought to become the president of my company’s branch.
But every phone call with my husband and child reminded me of the ache I carried every day. I had vowed that our separation would only last for two years, and then we’d be inseparable forever after that.
A man and his son | Source: Midjourney
The holidays were the worst times of the year. This year, Alex had begged me to come home for Christmas, his small voice trembling through the receiver.
“Mom, I miss you. Can’t you come back, just for one day?”
“I wish I could, buddy,” I said, forcing a brightness into my tone. “But I’ve got so much work. We’ll celebrate big when I visit next month, okay?”
“Okay,” he whispered, but his and his father’s disappointment hit me like a punch in the chest, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty as I ended the call, declaring my love to them.
A sad child | Source: Midjourney
After we hung up, I stared at my empty apartment, feeling the isolation settle into my bones. The cold city air seemed to seep into every corner of my life. My apartment, though modern and sleek, felt more like a gilded cage with every passing day.
If not for Eleanor, my elderly neighbor, I might’ve sunk entirely into that loneliness. Eleanor was in her seventies, always cheerful and kind. She’d often leave small treats, homemade cookies or muffins, outside my door with handwritten notes that brightened my otherwise cold days.
A cheerful older woman | Source: Midjourney
Her smile alone had the capability of lifting my spirits immediately, and I leaned on the comfort she gave me. We’d chat briefly when we crossed paths in the hall, her warmth like a flicker of sunlight on dreary mornings.
She was a quiet constant in my life, a reminder that kindness could bridge even the most impersonal of cities. Eleanor wasn’t just thoughtful; she had an uncanny way of knowing exactly when to step in, and this year was no different.
An older woman talking to her neighbor | Source: Midjourney
That Christmas Eve, my lovely neighbor knocked on my door, holding a small plate of peppermint bark.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart!” she said, her smile as radiant as ever. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?”
I hesitated, embarrassed to admit I didn’t. “Not really,” I admitted. “Just some work to catch up on.”
Eleanor’s eyes softened.
“Work can wait, dear. Why don’t you come and have dinner with me? It’s just me and a turkey too big for one person. I’d love the company.”
An older woman talking to her neighbor | Source: Midjourney
Her invitation caught me off guard. I could’ve said no, buried myself in emails and spreadsheets, but something about her sincerity tugged at me. “I’d love to,” I replied, and she clapped her hands with delight.
The next evening, I knocked on Eleanor’s door. She ushered me inside with a warmth that instantly put me at ease. Her home was pure holiday magic, cozy and festive, filled with the scent of pine, roasted chestnuts, and cinnamon. A roaring fire crackled in the hearth, and the dining table gleamed with red-and-gold decorations.
An apartment decorated for Christmas | Source: Midjourney
A small Christmas tree stood in the corner, its lights twinkling like stars against the dark window. Eleanor’s eyes sparkled as she set the table for our feast.
“You’re just in time!” she said, bustling into the kitchen. “The turkey is ready to make its debut!”
While she worked, I wandered into her living room. My eyes were drawn to a collection of framed photographs on a shelf and some keepsakes. I was completely shocked as I perused the images!
A surprised woman looking at photos | Source: Midjourney
The Eleanor in these pictures was unrecognizable. She was young, poised, and stunningly glamorous! She stood on the cover of magazines, her name emblazoned in bold letters: Eleanor Grayson, the supermodel sensation of the 1960s.
“Eleanor?” I called as she re-entered, balancing a platter with a perfectly roasted turkey.
She followed my gaze, her expression softening with nostalgia.
“Ah,” she said, setting the turkey down. “You’ve found my little secret.”
An older woman holding a turkey | Source: Midjourney
“You were a supermodel?” I asked, still trying to reconcile the elegant woman in the photographs with the gentle neighbor I’d grown to know.
She chuckled, sitting beside me. “I was. A lifetime ago.”
Dinner was ready, but the photos seemed to unlock a floodgate. Over plates of perfectly seasoned turkey and cranberry sauce, Eleanor began to share her story, her voice tinged with a mix of pride and regret.
A serious older woman | Source: Midjourney
She’d grown up in a small town, just like me, but her beauty and determination had catapulted her into the glamorous world of high fashion. She moved to the city in her early twenties, leaving behind her husband, Robert, who couldn’t join her due to his work.
“We promised each other it would only be for a little while,” she said, her eyes glistening. “But life has a way of pulling you in, doesn’t it? There was always one more shoot, one more event, one more opportunity.”
An older woman at the dinner table | Source: Midjourney
She described the highs of her career, runways in Paris, photoshoots in exotic locations, and the exhilaration of being in the spotlight! But then her voice softened when she said this…
“Robert begged me to come home,” she admitted. “But I kept putting it off. Told myself it was for us. That I’d make it up to him later.”
My mouth went dry as I noticed the similarities between our life stories. I realized that everything I thought I understood about my life was a lie.
A surprised woman | Source: Midjourney
I noticed how her hands trembled slightly as she lifted her glass of water. She hesitated, then continued.
“When I finally decided to go back, it was too late. Robert had passed away, succumbing to a terminal illness he’d hidden from me to avoid being a burden. He didn’t want to ruin my career,” Eleanor whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks.
“He loved me that much. But I didn’t deserve it.”
A heavy silence hung between us as we contemplated her last words…
A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney
My chest tightened as her words struck a chord deep within me.
“I never had children,” she continued. “I thought there would be time. But some things you can’t get back.”
Her story unraveled my carefully constructed justifications for my own choices. Was I heading down the same path? Trading precious moments with my family for a career I’d convinced myself was worth the sacrifice?
A happy man and his son | Source: Midjourney
Eleanor reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“You remind me of myself, you know,” she said, her voice tinged with a wistful sadness. “Driven, ambitious, capable of so much. But time, sweetheart, time is the one thing we can’t make more of.”
Little did I know that the next morning, I would be calling my lawyer…
An older woman talking | Source: Midjourney
That night, I lay awake, my neighbor’s words playing on a loop in my mind. Images of Mark and Alex filled my thoughts. I could clearly see my husband’s patient smile and our son’s small hand gripping mine.
My chest ached with a longing I’d buried for months. By morning, I was still struggling with my decision and I knew I had to call my husband to talk it through. Mark was super supportive and even mentioned that a friend of his was looking for someone with my experience.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
He hadn’t mentioned it before because he didn’t want to influence my decision as I seemed happy with staying in the city. They were offering double my salary in a senior position! Mark advised that I weigh the pros and cons of both jobs and whatever I decided, “Alex and I will be here.”
After mulling everything over, I called my lawyer, determined to make things right, although I knew my boss would try to convince me otherwise.
“I need to terminate my contract,” I said, my voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling beneath. “Effective immediately.”
A woman on a phone | Source: Midjourney
The legal process was a whirlwind. My boss, predictably, wasn’t pleased. But I felt a weight lift with every step I took to untangle myself from the commitments that had kept me away from my family.
Within days, I was on a flight home! My heart raced as I stepped into the arrivals terminal, scanning the crowd until I saw them, Mark, holding Alex’s hand, both of them beaming! I dropped my bags and ran to them, scooping Alex into my arms as tears streamed down my face!
An woman at the airport | Source: Midjourney
“Mom!” Alex cried, hugging me tightly. “You’re home!”
“I am, baby,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “And I’m not going anywhere!”
Mark wrapped his arms around us, his warmth anchoring me in a way I hadn’t felt in months.
“Welcome home, babe,” he said, his voice full of emotion.
At that moment, surrounded by my family, I understood the truth in Eleanor’s words. Careers can be rebuilt. Success can be redefined. But love, real, unshakable love, is a gift that can’t be replaced. And I wasn’t willing to lose it.
A happy family | Source: Midjourney
Sadly, this isn’t the only story where a lawyer had to get involved. In the following story, Demi’s lawyer jumps in to save her when the legal professional discovers something suspicious about the woman’s husband and mother-in-law.
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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