I never asked for much. Just honesty, maybe flowers on my birthday. But Steve always said we were tight on money—until I found a $10K receipt for a luxury beach trip.
Two guests. His mom… and his ex, Lora. That night, while I paid another overdue bill, Steve drooled over a Tesla video.
I confronted him with the receipt. He shrugged: “It’s a gift. Mom’s turning seventy.”
No apology.
No shame. Just popcorn and excuses. My birthday?
“Flowers wilt.” His mom? “She deserves it.” I was left staring at unpaid utilities. Days later, during a school break, I opened Facebook looking for camp scholarship updates for my students.
Instead, I saw Lora’s story: her and my mother-in-law, sipping cocktails on that very beach. “Thanks, Steve 💋” the caption read. I nearly dropped my phone.
That night, Steve took his phone into the shower. Suspicious, I opened his laptop. A message from his mom: “Lora’s glowing.
We miss you.” Steve replied: “My two favorite girls.” No attempt to hide it. I wasn’t even angry anymore. Just done.
One week later, I used that $10K. Not on revenge—but on every single student in my class. Camp, gear, and shirts that read, “Team Room 12 – We Did It!” No one left behind.
Not this time. Steve came home to locked doors, his things on the porch, and a note taped to the door: “Hope you enjoy life with your favorite girls. Don’t forget sunscreen.
See you in court.” As I drove toward the lake, my kids cheered—and so did my heart.
