The house. That was where our problems had begun.
Every month, a significant portion of my paycheck went toward the rent of our little home. Paul, my husband, and I both contributed to the rent, but he always handled the payments to our elusive landlord.
I trusted him implicitly, and of course, I never questioned his actions.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Paul would say. “I’ll take the money from our joint account each month and do the rest.”
Years passed, and my sacrifices continued. Paul took care of the power and the water bills, and we both contributed to the groceries. As difficult as it sometimes was, we both knew that it was just something that needed to be done.
One day, Paul had to leave early for a short business trip. It wasn’t anything new, and we had both gotten used to him going away on these trips.
“Do you want me to take care of rent?” I asked as I helped him pack his clothes away. “I know that you’re going to be traveling on the first of the month.”
“No, but thank you,” he said. “I’ll try and log on from my laptop and do it, or I’ll just handle it when I’m back.”
“Honey, you’re already doing so much for us. Let me lighten the burden and help,” I said.
Paul sighed deeply and took two ties out of his closet.
“It’s fine, Emma,” he said curtly. “I’ve got it under control.”
My husband left early the next morning and that was it. He didn’t speak about the rent topic again.
As the days went by and the rent was due the following day, I left my office during lunch to go to the bank.
“Where are you headed off to?” Jessica asked me as I gathered my handbag and cellphone before leaving the office.
“Just to the bank,” I replied. “I’ll be back soon and then we can get something for lunch.”
I walked into the bank ready to make a payment and lighten my husband’s load. But what I discovered was a different reality altogether.
I approached a teller and explained my situation, giving her all my relevant details.
“I just need to transfer rent money to my landlord,” I said. “My husband usually does this stuff, but he’s away on business.”
The teller smiled at me and looked at my identity document before continuing.
“Certainly, ma’am,” the teller said, pulling up the account details. “Could you confirm the account number?”
I read the number off the notepad I had taken from Paul’s desk that morning. He had a habit of writing all his important information on that one notepad.
“Thank you,” the teller said, typing the number in.
“A Mrs. Helen Parker?” she asked. “That’s your landlord’s account?”
I blinked in confusion.
“Helen Parker? Are you sure that’s what it says?” I exclaimed, my hands feeling clammy.
The teller, sensing that something was amiss, double-checked the records, frowning slightly as she concentrated.
“This is the account that has been receiving money from your account. It’s actually been receiving money for years.”
Paul’s mother. Helen Parker was Paul’s mother.
“There must be some mistake, surely,” I said.
“I’m afraid not, ma’am,” she said. “This account has consistently received the monthly payments. Look, I can print it all out for you if you’d like to go through it yourself.”
I nodded, too numb with shock.
I left the bank and drove home in a daze, forgetting that I needed to get back to work entirely.
Once home, I went straight to Paul’s study and began rifling through his drawers. I needed answers.
“How on earth have I been paying for his mother’s lifestyle all these years?” I said aloud.
It didn’t take long to find everything I needed. There it was, the ownership document for our house, signed and dated years ago, with Paul listed as the sole owner.
I didn’t know what to think, so I sat in silence for a few moments until my phone rang.
“Emma?” Jessica’s voice ran through the room. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you come back to the office?”
Quickly, I caught my best friend up on the drama.
“So, the rent that you’ve been paying is actually Helen’s allowance?” Jessica gasped. “That’s so ridiculous!”
“Yes,” I replied, holding my head in my hands. “I don’t know what to do. Paul is away for the next few days.”
“Did he take his laptop?” Jessica asked.
“No, actually, he didn’t,” I replied.
“Then go through it! Look for more information!”
My hands trembling, I turned on his laptop and found a series of messages exchanged between Paul and Helen. The messages detailed their plan, discussing how they would keep me in the dark and ensure I continued to pay rent, funneling my money straight to her.
“What the heck?” I muttered under my breath.
As the full weight of the betrayal settled on me, karma arrived with no delay. That evening, a violent storm swept through our town, leaving floods behind.
Of course, my house was one of them.
By the next morning, water started seeping through the ceiling, and within minutes, the whole house was flooded.
I took my belongings and went to a hotel. I wasn’t about to suffer through this alone.
“You can come to me,” Jessica said when I called to tell her that I was staying at a hotel.
“No,” I said. “I don’t plan on staying in the house long, so I’ll be here for a while. When Paul returns home, I’ll go to the house and get the last of my things.”
On the day that Paul was scheduled to come home, I went over to the house and worked my way through the things that were not damaged by the flooding.
“Emma, are you okay?” he asked as he stepped into the house. “What happened here?”
I turned to him, my eyes cold.
“I’m fine. But the house isn’t. The ceiling doesn’t look too good in some places. But it’s a good thing that’s not our house, right? The landlord’s insurance can cover it.”
To his credit, my husband isn’t stupid and he was able to pick up on my sarcasm easily.
Paul paled, realizing that he was trapped.
“Emma, I can explain,” he said.
“Don’t bother,” I interrupted. “I found the bank records, the ownership documents, and your messages to Helen. I know everything.”
Paul’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
“How could you do that to me?” I asked quietly. “Especially after knowing that I wanted to do things for myself. I wanted us to go on trips together and make memories. But all this time, I was just using my hard-earned money to take care of your mother?”
“What do you want me to tell you? That she’s old and needs it?” Paul asked.
“We both know that’s not the case,” I retorted. “Your father left everything to her. She’s doing fine. And in any case, it’s not that I wouldn’t have wanted to help Helen if I knew. It’s the fact that you’ve been lying for years.”
“Just wait,” Paul said. “I’m sure that we can work through this.”
“No, we cannot,” I replied. “You’ve been using me for years and I’m finally done with all of this.”
I walked out of the house and went back to the hotel where Jessica promised to come over and spend the evening with me.
The next day, I consulted a lawyer and fought to reclaim the money that I had unknowingly handed over to Helen.
In the end, justice prevailed and the court ruled in my favor, ordering Paul and his mother to repay every cent I had given them over the years.
With my newfound financial freedom, I got myself a little apartment, someplace that I could easily lock up and leave when it was time for a getaway.
And as for Paul? After the money was settled, I filed for a divorce, and left him in the past with his mother.
What would you have done?
My Father-in-Law Humiliated a Waiter, but Karma Struck When He Least Expected It
Greed led my father-in-law to cause a ruckus in a restaurant, leaving tension and strife in his wake. However, little did he know that his ego was about to be humbled when an unexpected twist arose from the karma of his actions. What started as a man trying to get his way turned into him learning a valuable life lesson that had continually eluded him.
At the risk of sounding overly dramatic, I’ve always believed in karma. You know, the idea that what goes around, comes around. But never in my wildest dreams did I expect to witness it unfold so vividly and immediately as it did one evening with my father-in-law (FIL), Benjamin.
This man, bless his heart, operates under the assumption that the universe, with all its cosmic might, revolves around him and is essentially supposed to cater to all his needs and wants. And on this particular day, karma decided to give him a reality check.
Let me paint the picture: My husband, Sam, and I, Linda, were dining out with him at a local restaurant Benjamin claimed to be the “best in the state.” He’s the kind of guy who orders as if preparing for an impending food shortage—four burgers, fries, the works!
As our patient waiter returned to the kitchen after bringing us our food, my FIL discreetly set aside one burger, a minor detail that would later unravel into an epic tale of instant karma.
We watched in shock as Benjamin erupted like a volcano at the returning waiter, disbelief and indignation painting his face upon realizing there was a “missing” burger. “I ordered four burgers. Why are there only three?!” he bellowed across the table, attracting unwanted attention.
The waiter, a paragon of patience, politely assured him, “I made sure I put them all in the bag, sir.”
“Are you blind?! This is only three!” His voice, dripping with condescension, cut through the hum of restaurant chatter.
At this point, I was ready to say something to defend this poor woman who was just trying to do her job, but my husband knew his father would just turn his fake rage on me and make a bigger scene. So, knowing I couldn’t stand for anyone being mistreated, he grabbed my hand lightly to urge me not to say anything.
I trust Sam’s instincts, especially when it comes to his father, so I pulled back and settled into my chair, watching the drama unfold.
Seeing that Benjamin was one of those unreasonable consumers who believed they were always right, the waiter apologized. She said, “Sorry, Sir. I’ll get you another one,” even though it was clear from her reaction that she was quite certain she’d brought all four.
The innocent woman walked away to get a fifth burger for my greedy FIL, and we sat looking at him with disgust but chose to say nothing to avoid inflaming the situation further. The waiter’s solution seemed to satisfy Benjamin momentarily, his smirk spreading across his face like a dark cloud.
Little did he know, the universe was about to serve him a HUGE slice of humble pie!
Fast forward to our arrival home, and the smugness quickly faded into sheer panic. My FIL’s face turned white as a sheet when he realized his wallet was missing! The atmosphere thickened with tension as he frantically searched, his mind racing back to the restaurant.
My husband and I exchanged knowing glances, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts.
In a twist of fate, my FIL, driven by desperation, called the restaurant, only to have the same waiter answer! The calm in her voice as she confirmed finding his wallet was almost palpable! But there was a major twist to the news he hadn’t expected…
The waiter informed him that the restaurant had a peculiar policy, one my FIL had always ridiculed on the walls and menus of the establishment, stating that any lost items unclaimed within an hour would be donated to charity
The realization hit him like a freight train! He quickly dropped the call and filled us in, “I think they gave away all my money, we need to go back!” I am not going to lie, seeing him all distressed and panicky left me feeling like justice was served, but it was only the beginning!
We rushed back to the restaurant, only to be met with the ultimate irony. The waiter, now wearing a grin of victory, handed him an envelope from the charity organization, thanking him for his “generous donation,” before pouring him a “complimentary drink.”
Inside were receipts detailing how the money from his wallet provided meals for several homeless individuals that evening!
Silence enveloped him, a rare moment of humility overtaking the usual pomp and bluster. My husband took this moment to gently address his father’s behavior, igniting a heartfelt discussion about respect, gratitude, and the ripple effect of our actions.
“Dad, you know what you did to that waiter was wrong, and it’s probably why you forgot your wallet at the restaurant,” he told him when we got to the safety of the car. “You always have this idea that you can do anything you want and there won’t be consequences,” Sam continued.
With tears in his eyes, he added, “You know that’s part of the reason why Mom isn’t with us today.”
What my husband was referring to was how Benjamin ended up living with us because his wife, Sam’s mother, divorced him and took everything. My FIL repeatedly cheated on Diana, a sweet and loving woman who would’ve given the world to Benjamin.
When she finally got tired of his entitlement, she took him to the cleaners in court, sharing a folder and footage of years of private investigations she’d done on her husband to prove his guilt. She’d known throughout his marriage about his infidelity but only confronted him once or twice, where he pompously told her
However, he definitely “answered” to her when she filed for divorce and won everything before selling it all and relocating to another country. Only Sam and I had contact with her via texts and sometimes video calls.
It was a painful yet cathartic experience for all, especially for my FIL, who had never acknowledged facing the consequences of his entitlement in such a direct and immediate way. The incident at the restaurant and Sam’s heartfelt confrontation marked a turning point, not just for my FIL but for our family as a whole.
The lesson from karma was a clear and profound one that led the man who once embodied entitlement and arrogance to vow to change. He began a journey of volunteering and connection with those he had overlooked—the homeless people who’d benefited from his loss.
Our family dinners, once tense affairs, transformed into sessions of meaningful conversation and laughter. My FIL, previously the source of strife, became the catalyst for unity, embodying the transformative power of kindness and empathy.
So, there it is: A story of how a misplaced wallet and a “missing” burger taught us all the invaluable lesson that no act of kindness, no matter how small, goes unnoticed by the universe. Karma, in its most poetic form, reminded us that humility and compassion pave the path to true fulfillment. And for my FIL, it was a lesson learned not a moment too late.
While Linda’s story about how karma finally knocked some sense into her FIL shows how sometimes it takes time for people to get the message, here’s another story that will make you halt before doing something stupid that you’ll regret later.
Sarah’s Story about Bad Karma against Her Dad That Will Make You Think Twice before Acting Out
In a classic tale of dinner drama turned karma jackpot, a Reddit user, let’s call him John, recounts a meal out with his then-fiancée, Sarah, and her less-than-stellar dad. Picture this: a cozy restaurant scene, our couple, and the dad who’s had a history of favoring his new family over Sarah.
As the night winds down, Dad offers to foot the bill, a gesture that seems nice until Sarah’s request for a to-go box for her leftovers sparks his snide remark about wasted fridge space. John, ever the knight in shining armor, steps in,
But, oh, does that ruffle Dad’s feathers! He throws a fit, tossing the bill at John and storming out with a dramatic “FINE!” Poor Sarah’s caught in the middle, upset at John for stirring the pot. Now, here’s where the universe decides to spice things up.
While waiting for the bill, tensions high and Dad lurking outside, the waiter reveals they’re in the middle of an “every bill’s a winner” contest. Usually, it’s a free drink or appetizer on the line, but not tonight. Tonight, John and Sarah hit the jackpot – a trip for four to sunny Florida, all because karma decided Dad’s departure was the perfect moment for a grand prize win!And so, our couple learns that sometimes, standing up for your loved ones not only brings you closer but might just land you a vacation in the process. As for Dad, well, let’s hope he’s learned something about kindness and maybe, just maybe, he’ll get a postcard from Florida. For those enjoying the swiftness of karma, there are four more stories like Sarah’s included here!
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