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.
Years of Mocking My Weight Couldn’t Prepare My Husband for the Talent That Left Him Stunned
For years, my husband mocked my weight, often using cruel remarks to chip away at my self-esteem. I turned to food for comfort, and our already strained marriage only worsened. The breaking point came when he humiliated me in public, comparing me to a slim, beautiful woman. That moment sparked a fire in me to take control of my life. What he didn’t expect was the talent I would soon reveal, leaving him speechless.
For as long as I can remember, I struggled with my weight. No matter how hard I tried, the extra pounds clung to me like an unwelcome shadow. My dream had always been to become a skilled pastry chef, and the kitchen became my sanctuary, where I spent countless hours perfecting my desserts. Creating art from flour and sugar was my escape, but tasting everything I made became part of the process. The more I baked, the more I ate, and before I knew it, the weight piled on faster than I could have imagined. Each glance in the mirror left me feeling like a stranger in my own body. And Bryce, my husband, only made it worse.
“Maybe if you spent more time at the gym and less in the kitchen, you’d look better in that dress,” he’d say with a smirk. Those words cut deep. I’d overhear him on the phone, laughing with his friends about my weight, thinking I couldn’t hear him. But I always did. And it hurt.
There was a time when I was always by Bryce’s side, the perfect, supportive wife. I attended all his work events, always with a smile, but as the pounds added up, my confidence plummeted. I stopped going out with him, becoming a shadow of the woman I used to be, hiding away in the kitchen while Bryce continued to live his life without me. I felt lost, drowning in a sea of self-doubt and loneliness.
Everything changed the night of an important event—the first one I was catering as a chef. My desserts were the highlight of the evening, a moment I had dreamed of for months. Bryce was also attending, as the party was hosted by his business partner, Rowan. As we arrived, I felt a wave of anxiety, smoothing down my dress nervously. But as soon as we stepped inside, I noticed Bryce’s attention drifting toward a slim, attractive woman across the room. Her name was Elise, and she captivated everyone with just a smile. Bryce’s gaze lingered on her.
“Now that’s how a woman should look in a dress,” he said, his voice dripping with admiration. Then, with a glance at me, he added, “Maybe you should ask her for some tips, sunshine.” His words stung, and I could feel my confidence crumbling with each passing moment. Bryce found every excuse to be near Elise, leaving me feeling more invisible than ever. I wanted to disappear.
That’s when I met Rowan. He was standing in the same corner, unnoticed by the crowd, but unlike me, he wore a warm smile. When he spoke, his gentle humor immediately put me at ease. We started talking, and the topic of my love for baking came up. Rowan listened with genuine interest and then surprised me with an opportunity. He suggested I try to win the tender for developing the dessert menu for his restaurant. My heart leaped at the chance, but before I could respond, Bryce appeared, loud and brash.
“Well, if it isn’t the star of the show,” Bryce said, turning to Rowan. “Thanks for the invitation, but we need to head home. Gotta drop Elise off as well, you know how it is.” Then, with a smug grin, he added, “You should consider Elise for your team. She’s got a real knack for culinary stuff. We had a great chat about it.” I could barely believe what I was hearing. My own husband was recommending a woman he’d just met, dismissing everything I had worked so hard for.
As soon as we got home, I confronted Bryce. “How could you suggest Elise, of all people, to Rowan? What about me? Don’t you think I’m capable?” Bryce shrugged, not even looking at me as he loosened his tie. “Oh, come on, sunshine. It was just a suggestion. Don’t take it so personally.”
Those words were the final straw. Inside, something shifted—a resolve I hadn’t felt in years. “I’ll show you,” I whispered to myself. “I’m going to prove that I’m worth something. You’ll see.”
I threw myself into my work, determined to make the most of Rowan’s offer. With a budget in hand and a team of assistants, I dedicated myself to developing the dessert menu. It wasn’t easy, but for the first time in years, I felt truly alive. I also started taking care of my health, beginning each day with a run and exercises at home. Each push-up and sit-up was a small victory, a step closer to reclaiming my confidence.
Bryce, of course, didn’t miss a chance to belittle me. “You think those leggings are doing you any favors?” he’d say, or “All this work, and for what? You’re still the same, Clara.” But I didn’t let his words deter me. I kept pushing forward, keeping Rowan’s competition a secret. This was something I had to do for myself.
The day of the competition finally arrived. The event was set up like a culinary show, with stations for each chef to present their creations. Judges and guests would taste each dish and decide the winner, who would secure the contract and represent the restaurant. As I looked around at the other chefs, all seasoned professionals, doubt began to creep in. What if I wasn’t good enough?
Then I saw Elise. She was even more stunning up close, her perfect figure only adding to my insecurities. “Well, well, if it isn’t the pastry princess,” she sneered. “Shouldn’t the buns be in the bakery, not hanging off the baker?” Her words cut deep, but I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. But when I saw Bryce with her, laughing and chatting, I felt my world collapse. He was there for her, not for me.
Just as I was about to walk away, Rowan appeared by my side. “Clara, I have high hopes for your dessert,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine. “But if you’re too weak to continue, you should leave now. I need a strong team. If you can’t handle the pressure, there’s no place for you here.” His words were blunt, but they reignited the fire inside me. “I can do this,” I whispered to myself, and then louder, “I’ll do this.”
I poured my heart into every detail of my desserts, blocking out everything else. When the results were announced, I stood there in disbelief. I had won the contract! Me—the woman who had been belittled and mocked by her husband—had won.
I looked over at Bryce, and for the first time, he was speechless. But the surprises didn’t stop there. Along with the contract came an opportunity to study in Paris, the culinary capital of the world. When the announcement ended, Bryce’s face twisted with anger. “What the hell, Clara?” he hissed, pulling me aside. “You did all this behind my back? This nonsense? You need to stop this right now and come home where you belong.”
But before I could respond, Rowan stepped forward. “Bryce, Clara is a remarkable woman. From the first moment I met her, I knew there was something special about her. I’ve watched how you’ve treated her, how you’ve tried to break her spirit, and I’ve also seen how she’s changed over the past month. Her determination and hard work have yielded incredible results, and I’m more certain than ever that I’ve fallen in love with an extraordinary woman.”
Bryce was stunned into silence. His eyes widened, and for once, he had nothing to say. Finally, I found my voice. “I am a free woman, Bryce,” I said, looking him directly in the eye. “I deserve more than to live in your shadow, and I will not let you control my life any longer. I want a divorce, and you can go to Elise if that’s what you want.”
Bryce’s face flushed with anger, but he remained speechless. At that moment, Rowan handed me a beautiful bouquet. “Shall we?” he asked, inviting me to dinner. He then revealed another surprise—a pastry chef position waiting for me in Paris. After my training, I could stay there if I wished. “I hope that by then, you’ll have wrapped up your affairs here, and maybe you’ll want to start fresh in a new country. I’ll be there by your side, supporting whatever decision you make.”
A wave of happiness washed over me, and it felt as though the whole world was at my feet, ready to offer me a new life filled with love and creativity.
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