As I left the lawyer’s office, rain pouring down around me, I appeared defeated. But little did anyone know, I was secretly rejoicing. My ex-husband, Mike, had just been handed everything in our divorce – the house, car, and savings. Or so he thought.
In reality, I had been planning this moment for months. Mike’s obsession with material possessions had been the downfall of our marriage. He wanted to win, to prove his superiority. But I knew better.
I recalled the day Mike asked for a divorce, his frustration and anger palpable. I remained calm, knowing I had the upper hand. The divorce proceedings were a blur, with Mike demanding everything. I agreed, seemingly meekly.
But there was a catch.
The house, purchased with my mother’s assistance, had a contract that allowed her to reside there whenever she pleased. Mike had signed it years ago, blinded by the lure of luxury.
As I settled into my new life, I sent a message to my mother, signaling the start of our plan. The next morning, Mike called, enraged. My mother had taken over the house, and he was realizing his mistake.
I listened, amused, as Mike’s anger boiled over. My mother’s voice echoed in the background, chastising him for his behavior. The tables had turned.
Mike threatened to involve lawyers, but I knew he had signed away his rights. The contract was ironclad.
As the phone call ended, I sat down, savoring my freedom. The divorce had been a strategic move, and I had outsmarted Mike at every turn.
My mother’s voice still echoed in my mind, “Shut off that television! Do you really think I want to spend my days listening to that bullshit?” I laughed, knowing Mike was getting a taste of his own medicine.
For the first time in years, I felt truly free. Mike had thought he won, but I had been playing the long game. And now, I was reveling in my victory.
