When Rhea and her husband, Idran, decided to split up, she took a break from all the drama by spending a weekend at her parents’ place. But when she got back, she found all her stuff thrown out on the lawn. With some unexpected luck, Rhea found a valuable item that belonged to her ex — and used it to get sweet revenge…
After Idran and I decided to get divorced, he turned into someone I didn’t recognize.
The man I thought I knew, the one I had shared over a decade with, was completely gone. In his place was someone angry and mean-spirited. “You’re upset about how I talk to you?
About how I act?” Idran yelled. “I’m just asking you to stop yelling at me,” I said, rubbing my temples. “Shouting isn’t helping your point.”
“Oh, please, Rhea,” he snapped even louder.
“You made me this way! With your endless nagging and all your whining. Just go live your life.”
So, I did.
While we were working through the divorce, Idran and I were also trying to divide our things to make a clean break. “Let me pack this up, Rhea,” Idran said one day as he sorted through my books. “You’ll just take my stuff,” I shot back.
“I need to handle my own things first.”
“Fine, whatever,” he said. But things kept getting worse. The constant stress and arguing made me feel sick all the time.
So, I decided to go spend a weekend at my parents’ house to clear my mind. “Yeah, run to Mommy and Daddy,” Idran sneered as I threw clothes into an overnight bag. “They’re still better than you,” I said, slamming the door behind me.
Honestly, it was the best choice I could have made. I needed space to think and to accept that I’d be alone for the first time in twelve years. Even though Idran and I needed to separate, I couldn’t see what my life would look like afterward.
I also wanted my parents to spoil me for a few days. “Oh, Rhea,” my mom said as she pulled a big tray of roast chicken from the oven. “All you need to do is relax and eat.
Tell me what you feel like, and I’ll make it. If you need anything from the store, your dad will go get it in a second.”
I let out a deep breath. I was exactly where I needed to be.
“Are you really sure about the divorce?” my dad asked over dinner. “Yes,” I said softly. “If we were going to fix things, it would’ve happened long ago.
There’s no love left. We don’t even understand each other anymore.”
“You do what’s best for you,” my mom said, giving my hand a squeeze. “If your heart is telling you to walk away, then that’s what you should do.”
I spent time going for long walks, taking Toby, my parents’ dog, along.
I just wanted to think clearly and breathe. “You’re making the right choice,” I told myself again and again. “There’s nothing wrong with starting over.”
But on Monday morning, when I pulled into the driveway expecting Idran to be gone, I saw something that made my stomach drop.
All my furniture — my things from before I met Idran, plus things we got together — was scattered across the front yard. A big hand-painted sign read “FREE STUFF!” like it was a garage sale. “What the actual hell?” I muttered, slamming my car door.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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