I Discovered My Husband Was Lying — the Rent Money I Paid Went Straight to Him and His Mom, So I Taught Them a Lesson

When Jeremy and I entered into marriage, we mutually decided to divide all expenses equally, including our rent. He located the apartment and informed me that the monthly rent was $2,000. Each month, I provided him with my $1,000 portion, which he claimed to forward to the landlord. For two years, I believed this arrangement was entirely routine.

That was until one evening in December.

I found myself trapped in the elevator with a neighbor. During our conversation, she casually mentioned something that sent a chill through me:

“Oh, you live in Mrs. Lorrie and Jeremy’s apartment, right?”

Mrs. Lorrie, as in Jeremy’s mother.

Perplexed, I inquired further. The neighbor, blissfully unaware of the significance of her words, cheerfully elaborated:

“Indeed, Jeremy’s mother purchased that apartment years ago! She rented it out for a time, then he moved in with his ex. And now, you two are living there!”

A wave of realization washed over me. I was not merely paying rent; I was funding Jeremy and his mother.

For TWO YEARS, I had unwittingly transferred $24,000 directly into their hands.

I barely managed to enter my home before the fury surged within me. However, I refrained from losing my temper. Instead, I decided to call Jeremy.

“Hello, darling,” I said in a sweet tone. “When is rent due again?”

“December 28,” he replied nonchalantly.

Excellent.
For the next two weeks, I maintained a facade of normalcy—laughing at his jokes, preparing meals, and so forth.

In fact, I even handed him my $1,000 as I did on the 27th of every month. Yet, behind the scenes, I was meticulously devising my plan for retribution. Thus, step two commenced—December 28, also known as “The execution.”

That morning, Jeremy kissed me goodbye.

I waited precisely ten minutes after his departure before I set my plan into motion.
Initially, I gathered all of my belongings—shoes, clothing, the furniture I had purchased, and even the coffee maker that he cherished. Following that, I proceeded to the bank.

Jeremy and I maintained a joint account, into which my salary had been deposited each month. Just as he had been taking from me, I resolved it was time to reciprocate.

I withdrew all the funds.

I had already secured a lease for my own residence, a modest yet inviting apartment, and had paid the first month’s rent—utilizing JEREMY’S MONEY.

Now, onto the final act: The Grand Finale.
By the time Jeremy returned home, the apartment was stripped of all its contents, save for one item—a letter. Afterward, I powered down my phone and drove directly to my new apartment, the place I intended to call home long after initiating divorce proceedings.

A week after my departure, I encountered Jeremy’s mother at the grocery store. She appeared to have aged significantly.

“Nancy. Please, allow me to explain.”

“Explain what, Lorrie? How you and your son embezzled $24,000 from me? How you sat across from me at Sunday dinners, inquiring about when I would provide you with grandchildren, all while you were robbing me?”

“We intended to inform you—”

“When? After the baby shower? After I had spent another year covering your mortgage?”

Her expression faltered. “Jeremy is heartbroken. He’s been drinking and has lost weight…”

“Isn’t it interesting how karma operates?” I leaned in closer. “Here’s what will transpire: you will allow me to complete my shopping. Then, you will return home and inform your son that if he does not accept my divorce conditions, including full reimbursement of every dollar I spent on rent, I will pursue fraud charges against both of you.”

“You wouldn’t—”

“Test me.” I offered a sweet smile. “Oh, and Lorrie? That butterscotch pie you adored? Let’s just say it contained a unique ingredient… and it wasn’t affection!”

Three months later, I sat in my new apartment, reviewing my finalized divorce documents. Jeremy had acquiesced to all terms—full repayment with interest.
My phone vibrated with a message from Taylor: “I encountered your ex today. He appeared quite unhappy. Lorrie is selling her unit and relocating to Florida. The building meetings will certainly lack her usual drama!”

I chuckled softly, lifting my glass to my reflection in the window.

That evening, Jeremy attempted to contact me 27 times, but I chose not to respond. His mother also reached out. Blocked.

Subsequently, a flood of messages arrived—friends alerting me that Jeremy was in a downward spiral, lamenting how I had “taken HIS money.”

The irony was almost poetic. Did I feel remorse? Not in the least. For two years, I had merely been their pawn. For two years, they had exploited me without a second thought.

Ladies, when something feels amiss, heed that instinct. And if a man believes he can outsmart you, ensure that you outmaneuver him. Ultimately, con artists receive their due. I made certain that Jeremy and his mother faced the consequences of their actions.

Some may perceive this as merciless. I regard it as justice.