I walked into our house and found my husband with his ex-wife — what she was doing there sent me into a rage

Imagine coming home after a long day, expecting peace, only to find your husband and his ex-wife in your living room. That’s exactly what happened to me. But Melissa wasn’t just there for a chat. What she was doing was beyond anything I could’ve imagined.

Do you know the feeling when you return home after a day full of meetings and deadlines? All you want is just to take a shower, change into a fresh pair of pajamas, and sink into your cozy bed. It’s just the best feeling ever.

I felt the same when I got home from work two weeks ago. All I wanted was my bed, a cup of hot coffee, and the true-crime documentary I’d been watching. I was set to watch episode 3, but what I saw when I stepped inside made me forget everything.

I opened the door, hung the car keys, and began walking towards my room when something unexpected caught my eye. At first, I really thought I was imagining things because it seemed too odd to be true.

I noticed the couch was gone, the rug was missing, and even the bookshelf had vanished. I checked the hallway and the kitchen, and sure enough, most of the items were missing. The coat closet? Gone. The coffee machine? Gone. The dining table? GONE!

What the heck? I thought. Where’s Roger?

Roger, my husband, usually came home before me, but I couldn’t see him around. Then, I heard his voice, like he was yelling at someone. It was coming from the end of the hallway. From our living room.

I threw my bag on the kitchen island and followed his voice. As I got closer, another voice echoed through the hallway. It was a woman’s voice.

Not ready for what was waiting, I pushed the door open and saw my husband with his ex-wife, Melissa. The woman Roger swore he’d never see again, the one he called “a filthy rich spoiled brat.”

I felt like my heart had jumped up to my throat. Why was Melissa in my house?

“Roger?” I said, interrupting their conversation. “What… What happened to our house?”

“Oh, Liz, you’re here?” Roger asked as if he wasn’t expecting me.

“Yeah, I just got back,” I said. “What’s she doing here?”

“I’ll explain everything,” Roger stuttered. “I’ll fix it, I swear.”

Roger looked desperate for me to stay calm, while Melissa stood there smirking. I almost thought they were having an affair until Melissa’s words sent a wave of pure rage through me.

“No, you won’t,” she snapped at Roger. “Didn’t you tell her that everything you owned is mine?”

“I… I…” Roger stammered, lost for words.

“Well, honey,” she said, turning to me. “All of this furniture… it belongs to me. You see, your husband and I bought it together when we were married, so I’m just taking back what’s mine.”

What the… I thought. What does she think of herself?

She was practically destroying my house and acting like it was no big deal.

I remember staring at her for a few moments, thinking what kind of an evil person would enter their ex’s house and take away most of their furniture.

I wanted to scream, to kick her out, but I couldn’t. Not with Roger just standing there silently and watching as she humiliated me.

“And you’re letting her take everything?” I finally managed to speak, looking straight into Roger’s eyes. “You didn’t even try to stop her? And why didn’t you tell me she was coming? You knew, right?”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he lowered his gaze. He was too ashamed to even look at me.

“Seriously, Roger? That’s it?” I rolled my eyes. “I never thought you’d let your ex walk out with our whole life! This is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” Melissa laughed. “I’m sorry honey, but technically everything in your house belongs to me. Even the bed that you two share. I paid for all this stuff, so I have every right to take it.”

Yeah, right, I thought to myself.

It would be true if I said I’ve never felt this humiliated in my entire life. Can you even imagine what kind of patience it took to stop myself from humiliating Melissa?

I could’ve thrown every embarrassing secret Roger had told me about Melissa right back at her, but I wasn’t about to stoop to her level. I wasn’t going to be petty.

At that point, I wanted to ask why she needed this old, used furniture when she could afford a brand-new bed set, and the latest model of the automatic coffee machine.

She was wealthy, owning one of the most popular businesses in town, and she could easily afford a fully furnished house.

But I knew why she was doing it. It was all about humiliating me. I could see the jealousy in her eyes.

“Fine,” I spat. “Take it. Take everything you own. But don’t you dare contact me or my husband ever again!”

“Sure, honey,” she said, smirking as if she had won the biggest prize of her life.

I watched as she walked toward the main door and called the workers inside to pick up the remaining furniture. Then, I spotted a truck in our backyard, full of the furniture the workers had already moved.

Meanwhile, Roger silently watched the workers tear our house apart. He was helpless, and just as heartbroken as I was.

That’s when I came up with a plan to make Melissa regret her decision.

Right when she stepped outside to look at the truck, I hurried into the kitchen and pulled out a few frozen shrimp from the freezer. Then, I quickly hid them in different places including our side table, the living room chairs, and inside our mattress.

I even stuffed a few of them inside the decorative pillows. I only had to wait for a few days to see the shrimps do their magic.

You see, I knew she wouldn’t keep this furniture in her house. She was probably going to dump it in some storage unit, and I couldn’t wait to see how these little pieces of meat would turn that place into an unbearable stink bomb.

As the workers loaded the last piece of furniture into the truck, Melissa gave one final self-satisfied glance around, ensuring she had destroyed our house in every possible way.

“I hope you’ve taken everything that’s YOURS,” I said, my arms crossed.

She nodded. “Yup, I’m done, honey. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Sure, sorry, I thought.

And with that, Melissa left our house and drove away in her shiny SUV. Meanwhile, Roger sat on the ground with his hands on his head.

“I’m so sorry,” he said as tears trickled down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you. She called me a few days ago and told me she’d come over, but I had no idea she was serious. I never thought she’d do this to us.”

I sighed and sat down next to him.

“It’s alright, babe,” I said, caressing his arms. “I wouldn’t want to live in a house furnished by your ex-wife anyway.”

At that point, I could’ve yelled at Roger, blamed him, and made him feel terrible about the situation, but I knew things weren’t in his control. Besides, that’s exactly what Melissa wanted.

She wanted to see us fight and break apart, and I wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction.

“Instead of apologizing, I want you to buy me new furniture, okay?” I chuckled. “Anything I pick. I want to make this place feel like home again.”

“I’ll do that,” he looked up at me with a smile. “I’ll buy every piece of furniture that you want. I promise.”

I held his hand and squeezed it hard.

“I love you, Roger, and I’ll always be there for you,” I said. “We’ll get through this together.”

As we lay on the bedroom floor that night, I realized that I didn’t need Melissa’s furniture to make my house feel like home. I had Roger, and that was all I needed.

But the story doesn’t end here.

A few days later, while scrolling through Facebook, I stumbled upon a post in one of the local groups. It was from Melissa, and it was clear she was desperate.

HELP NEEDED URGENTLY! Does anyone know how to get rid of a horrible, rotting meat smell in furniture? I recently moved some old furniture into a storage unit, and within days, it started smelling like something died inside.

I’ve tried airing it out, deep cleaning, and even using baking soda, but nothing works! The smell is unbearable, and I can’t even walk into the storage room without gagging. Please, if anyone has tips, I’m losing my mind here!

I couldn’t help but chuckle while reading her frantic post. All her wealth, all her pride, and she was brought down by a few pieces of hidden shrimp.

It was the sweetest revenge. Served cold.

What would you have done if you were in my place?

My Mother-in-Law Filled My Home with Cockroaches to Tarnish My Reputation as a Housekeeper – My Retaliation Was Severe

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.

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