After a bitter marriage marked by Mike’s obsession with material wealth, Nicole shockingly agrees to give him everything in their divorce. But as Mike basks in his “victory,” Nicole’s laughter reveals a secret plan in action. What Mike doesn’t know is that she’s about to make her final move.

I walked out of the lawyer’s office with a blank expression, my shoulders slumped, and the look of a defeated ex-wife. The rain was falling heavily, and the gray sky matched my mood—or at least the mood I wanted people to think I was in.

Inside, I was boiling. My hands gripped the cold steel of the doorknob as I walked toward the elevator. There was no one there. That’s good.

The elevator door closed behind me with a soft ding, and as soon as I was alone, I let out a small laugh. It wasn’t something I’d planned; it bubbled up from deep within me like champagne finally uncorked.

The more I thought about what I had just done, the more it amplified until I was giggling like crazy in the elevator.

If anyone saw me at that moment, they’d think I’d finally cracked, that I’d lost it from all the stress, but oh no, that was just the beginning. Everything was falling perfectly into place.

The house, the car, the savings—Mike could have it all. It was exactly what I wanted. He thought he’d won, and that was the best part. He had no idea what was coming.

The elevator stopped abruptly, and I pulled myself together. I glanced at my reflection in the elevator mirror: messy hair, tired eyes, and a faint smile still on my lips. I didn’t care. This was going to be fun.

A few weeks earlier…

Mike and I hadn’t been happy for years, but it wasn’t just a lack of love. Mike was obsessed with his image. All he thought about was flashy cars, the biggest house on the block, and designer clothes.

It was all a performance, and I’d played my part for too long. The cracks were starting to show, and when the arguments became more frequent, I knew the inevitable was about to happen.

The fact is, I wasn’t afraid of divorce. I knew Mike and I knew exactly how it would turn out.

He wasn’t concerned with saving the marriage. No, what he wanted was to win—win the house, win the money, win the divorce.

All I wanted was to break free from this pretentious lifestyle. But that didn’t mean I was going to let him win, either. So I let Mike have what he wanted, but with a grip as sharp as a fish hook.
It happened on a Tuesday. Mike had come home late, again. I was in the kitchen, pretending to scroll through my phone, not bothering to look up when he burst in.

“We need to talk.”

I sighed, barely hiding the boredom in my voice. “What now?”

He slammed his keys on the counter, and I could practically feel the frustration emanating from him. He was always like this when things didn’t go his way at work, and of course, I was the easiest target.

“I’ve had enough,” he said, his voice low and tight. “I want a divorce.”

I looked up at him. Finally. I nodded slowly, as if I was beginning to understand, but in reality, I’d been preparing for this moment for weeks.

“Okay,” I said simply.

He frowned, visibly taken aback. “That’s it? No arguing? No begging?”

I shrugged. “What’s the point?”

For a second, he looked confused, as if I’d pulled the rug out from under him. He expected resistance, for me to beg him to stay.

But I just needed to give him enough rope so he could hang himself.

The divorce negotiations were as terrible as I expected. We sat across from each other in a sterile conference room, the lawyers flanking us, while Mike outlined every little thing he wanted. The house, the car, the savings; it was as if he were reading off a grocery list.

And the whole time he had a smirk on his face, like he thought I was going to break down and cry at any moment.

“All right,” I said, barely listening. “You can have it all.”

My lawyer gave me a look that clearly said, “Are you sure?” But I simply nodded.

Mike blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I said you could have it all. I don’t want any of it except my personal belongings.”

He looked stunned. “You… you don’t want the house? Or the money?”

“No,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “It’s all yours.”

Her shock quickly turned to joy. “All right. Then use this afternoon to pack your things. It’s not much, so it should be enough.” Mike glanced at his watch. “I expect you to be gone by six.”

“No problem,” I replied.

He straightened up, his chest puffing out as if he’d just won the lottery. And I let him think so.

And that brings me back to that moment when I stepped into the elevator of the lawyer’s office building and couldn’t contain my laughter any longer.

As I stepped out of the elevator, I pulled out my phone. My fingers hovered over the screen for a second before typing a quick message: I’m heading home to pack my things. I’ll call you when it’s time for you to move out.

I hit send and smiled. Time to get down to business.

Packing my things was easier than I thought. I didn’t want much, just a few personal items, mostly items that contained memories that weren’t tainted by Mike. The house was too big for the two of us anyway, and I’d always felt like it was more his house than mine.

I was taping the last box when I picked up the phone to make the call. My mother, Barbara, answered on the second ring.

“Hi,” I said, keeping my voice light. “It’s time.”

There was a pause, then my mother’s familiar, matter-of-fact tone spoke. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Mom couldn’t stand Mike. She saw right through his flashy facade the day I introduced them. But the best part was, she’d helped us buy this house. She’d helped us buy this house. It was because of her that Mike thought he’d gotten such a good deal, and now it was because of her that he was going to lose it.

I hung up and felt a strange sense of relief as I looked around. I was done pretending.

The next morning, I was making breakfast in my new, small apartment when my phone rang. I smiled when Mike’s name appeared on the screen.

“Hello?” I replied kindly.

“You set me up!” Mike’s voice was furious, almost foaming.

I put the phone on speaker and grabbed a piece of toast while leaning on the counter. “I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”

“Your mother!” he spat. “She’s… she’s in my house! She’s taken everything!”

“Oh, right,” I said, biting into my toast. “Remember the agreement we signed when she gave us the deposit? The one that lets her live there whenever she wants, for as long as she wants?”

There was a long pause, and I could practically hear the gears turning in his brain. I could imagine the look on his face, the realization.

He had signed that paper years ago, too blinded by the lure of a luxury home to think twice about the fine print.

“You! You cheated on me! This isn’t over. I’m going to call my lawyers…”

Before he could finish, I heard my mother’s voice in the background, sharp and cutting through the phone. “Michael, you better get your feet off that coffee table! And stop hogging the remote!”

There was a muffled sound as if Mike had turned away from the phone, trying to whisper. “Barbara, this is my house…”

“Oh, shh,” Mom interrupts, louder now. “This is my house as much as it is yours. And another thing, what’s with all these cheap snacks? Do you know how to shop? I don’t live on frozen meals!”

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Mike mumbled something incoherent, his frustration barely contained, but before he could utter another word, I heard it again.

“And turn the TV down! Do you think I want to listen to that nonsense all day? If you’re going to watch those ridiculous car shows, at least turn the sound down!”

There was a loud noise, followed by more mumbling, and then the call was abruptly disconnected. I took a deep breath and smiled as I sat down at the table.

Freedom has never tasted so sweet.