When I came home from the hospital with my newborn, I noticed a note on the table and assumed it was a kind message from my mother-in-law. Instead, it said she was charging us $600 for taking care of our dog while I was in labor. My husband promised to talk to her, but I had a better idea.
A few days before I went into labor, I was sprawled out on the couch, trying to manage the dull ache in my lower back that kept growing sharper by the minute.
A woman in her 30s, 9 months pregnant, sits on a couch looking worried and uncomfortable | Source: Midjourney
My golden retriever, Rich, rested his head on my lap, his big brown eyes watching me like he knew something was up. I scratched behind his ears, grateful for his calm presence.
“Jake!” I called my husband, my voice strained as another wave of discomfort rolled through me.
Jake was in the kitchen, stacking turkey and cheese onto a sandwich, his eyebrows crunched.
“Yeah, babe?” he replied, not even looking up.
A man in his 30s making a sandwich in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
I sighed. “We need to figure out what to do about Rich while we’re at the hospital. Can we ask your mom to help out?”
We had a scheduled induction the following day because my baby was a week overdue, and I was ready to be done with this mess.
Jake walked over, sandwich in hand, and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead. “Don’t stress, Doris. Mom loves Rich. She’ll handle it.”
A golden retriever in a home | Source: Pexels
That was my husband. He shrugged off almost anything with an easy solution. His optimism was one of the reasons I loved him, but I’m not going to lie, it was also one of the things that often grated on my nerves.
But that might just be a product of the hormones and my discomfort. “Alright,” I said, leaning back into the cushions. “Just make sure she knows it’s only for a couple of days.”
Later that night, Jake called Abigail, his mom, and explained the situation. She agreed without hesitation. He hung up, grinning. “She said she’s happy to help. Problem solved.”
A man holding a phone | Source: Pexels
I guessed that would have to be good enough for me.
Jake and I packed our hospital bag that evening, and the next morning, we said goodbye to Rich. By the door, I knelt to scratch his fluffy head.
“Be a good boy for Grandma, okay?” He wagged his tail like he understood.
“Don’t worry about a thing,” Abigail waved me off with a smile. “I just wish I could be at the hospital.”
A woman in her 60s waving goodbye in a living room with a smile | Source: Midjourney
That had been a slight issue. We had asked that our family not visit or accompany us to the hospital. My pregnancy had been rough enough, and I just needed my husband during labor.
If something went wrong, I didn’t want anyone else there either.
Abigail said she understood, but maybe she was still a bit salty about it.
“Mom, you know our wishes,” Jake intervened, smiling to take the sting out of his words.
“I know, I know,” she said. “You modern kids! Now, go have my grandchild.”
“Thank you, Abigail,” I said, and with that, we went out the door.
A pregnant woman in her 30s waving goodbye with a small smile | Source: Midjourney
***
I never got to be induced. My water broke just as we were entering the hospital… and honestly, we, women, need to talk about labor with each other and our daughters more often because this was hell.
I spent hours gripping the hospital bed rails like they were the only thing tethering me to reality. Between the contractions and the endless poking and prodding from nurses, I thought I might lose my mind.
Jake was by my side the whole time, holding my hand and trying his best to keep me calm, though he looked like he was one more contraction away from passing out himself.
A woman in her 30s in a hospital looking in pain while in labor | Source: Midjourney
But all the pain and the exhaustion melted away the moment they placed my son in my arms. He was tiny, wrinkly, and absolutely perfect.
Jake and I cried like idiots. It was a marvel that we’d brought this little person into the world. For three days, the hospital was our bubble of joy.
When we were finally allowed to go home, I felt relieved. We carefully carried our child through the hospital doors toward the parking lot.
A parking lot | Source: Pexels
Jake called Abigail to tell her we had been discharged, and she said she was going to give us a few days to get settled before meeting the baby. That was so kind of her!
As we pulled up to our driveway, I thought about settling on our couch and getting Rich to meet his new little brother. It was going to be perfect… yeah, no.
The first thing I noticed when we walked into the kitchen was a folded piece of paper on the table. My heart fluttered, thinking Abigail had left us a sweet “Welcome Home” note.
A folded piece of paper on a kitchen table | Source: Midjourney
I carefully shifted the baby in my arms and opened it, already imagining something like “Congratulations on your new bundle of joy!”
Instead, the note read:
“You owe me $600 for feeding and walking Rich. My time costs money. You have my bank details.”
For a moment, I just stared at it, sure I was reading it wrong. But nope. It was real. My mother-in-law was demanding money for watching our dog.
It’s not that I didn’t want to pay for services like that, but she was family AND she never mentioned charging us.
A woman’s hand holding a piece of paper with a note | Source: Midjourney
“Jake,” I called, my voice sharp. He was in the living room, setting down the car seat. “You might want to come see this.”
He walked in, took one look at the note, and groaned. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” I said, waving the paper in his face. “Your mom’s demanding money for taking care of Rich while I was pushing your child out of my body.”
Jake ran a hand through his hair, already looking defeated. “I’ll talk to her,” he muttered.
A man in his 30s looking exasperated, running his hand through his hair in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“No,” I snapped, stopping him in his tracks. “I’ll handle this.” My mind was already coming up with an idea, and it didn’t involve quietly paying up.
A week later, Abigail came over to see the baby. She strolled in with a big smile, kissed Jake’s cheek in greeting, and began cooing over my son like the most doting grandmother.
“Oh, he’s precious,” she said, cradling him in her arms. “He has Jake’s nose.”
A baby’s face | Source: Pexels
For a moment, I almost believed she was here just to see her grandson. But as she handed the baby back to me, she dropped the act.
“So,” she said, brushing her hands together. “When can I expect my money? I’ve waited long enough.”
I stared at her, holding my baby close. My smile didn’t waver. “Of course, Abigail. I’ll pay you—on one condition.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Condition? What condition?”
I walked over to the computer desk we kept in the area between the kitchen and the living room and pulled out a folder I’d prepared earlier. I’d spent the past few days going through every instance when Jake and I had done something for her.
A set of folders arranged on a desk | Source: Pexels
Every favor, every single dollar we ever spent on her (excluding gifts) was all there in black and white.
“Well,” I said, flipping it open, “since you’re charging us for your services, I figured it’s only fair we do the same.”
I laid the folder on the table and slid it toward her. Abigail leaned over, her face tight with suspicion. “What is this?” she asked.
“You can think of it as an itemized invoice,” I said, keeping my voice light. “You know, like professionals do.”
Her face went pale as she grabbed the paper and scanned what I’d written.
A woman in her 60s looking surprised while holding a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney
“Let’s see,” I began, tapping the paper. “Helping you move houses last year? That’s $800. That’s cheaper than regular movers, so you can consider it a family discount. Then, there’s the time we paid for your car repair when your transmission failed. That was $1,200. And the free babysitting I did for your neighbor’s kids at your request? That’s around $600.”
Two people moving boxes | Source: Pexels
Abigail’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “This is ridiculous!” she finally sputtered. “You can’t charge me for things family does for each other!”
I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Exactly,” I said, my tone sharp. “Family helps each other out without expecting payment. At least, that’s what I thought.”
A woman in her 30s holding a newborn in a blanket, talking and waving her hand | Source: Midjourney
She tried to argue, but her words came out jumbled. “But… but this is different! I had to rearrange my schedule to take care of Rich!”
“And I had to rearrange my entire life to have your grandchild,” I shot back, shrugging. “So if you want to talk about fair compensation, I think we’re more than even.”
Abigail’s face turned beet red. She stood there for a moment, staring at me like she couldn’t believe what was happening. Then, without another word, she spun around and stormed out of the house, slamming the door so hard the baby started to fuss.
A woman in her 60s, her face blushed and pouting, looking angry in a living room | Source: Midjourney
Jake, who had been watching silently from the kitchen, walked over and shook his head, a small grin tugging at his lips. “No one should mess with my wife,” he said, wrapping me in his arms and kissing my cheek.
I couldn’t help but laugh as we pulled apart. “You got that right,” I replied teasingly, sinking onto the couch with the baby.
Rich trotted over, his tail wagging, and rested his head on my knee. I scratched his ears, looking down at the little bundle in my arms.
A golden retriever with a lolling tongue | Source: Pexels
At that moment, I felt at peace. Abigail might not have learned her lesson, but at least she wouldn’t be bothering us about that $600 again. And if she ever did, well… I still had the folder.
Let her try me.
A woman in her 30s holding a newborn wrapped in a blanket, sitting on a couch with her husband smiling in the background | Source: Midjourney
My Husband Refused to Take Photos of Me on Our Vacation — His Reason Shocked Me, but My Revenge Left Him in Tears
Hi everyone, Hannah here. This is a difficult story to share, but I feel like I need to. I’m a 38-year-old mom of two amazing kids (seven and five), and I’ve been married to my husband, Luke, for nearly a decade. We’ve had our share of challenges, like any couple. But something that happened on our recent trip to Mexico shocked me.
A mother with her little daughter and son | Source: Midjourney
Imagine this: we’re in Mexico, surrounded by stunning beaches and gorgeous weather. I was so excited about this trip. I had planned everything meticulously because, let’s face it, as a mom, I rarely get a break.
This was supposed to be our time to reconnect, relax, and just enjoy each other’s company. But right from the start, Luke was acting weird. Every time I asked him to take a photo of me or with me, he’d brush it off.
A white couple on a vacation in Mexico | Source: Midjourney
“I’m not in the mood,” he’d say, or “Can we do it later?” At first, I didn’t think much of it. Maybe he was just tired from the travel, right? But then it kept happening.
We were on this beautiful beach, and I was wearing this new dress I bought just for the trip. I felt good about myself, which is rare these days after two kids and all. I asked Luke, “Can you take a picture of me with the sunset?”
He sighed and muttered, “Not now, Hannah.”
A white woman posing for a photo during sunset on the beach | Source: Midjourney
I frowned, feeling a bit hurt. “Why not? It’ll just take a second.”
“I said I’m not in the mood,” he snapped, turning away.
That stung. I mean, we’re on vacation, and he can’t take a moment to snap a photo? I felt embarrassed and confused.
Throughout the trip, I noticed him being extra protective of his phone. He’d hide the screen whenever I walked by and took it with him even to the bathroom. My gut told me something was off, but I tried to ignore it.
A closeup shot of a mobile phone lying on a bed | Source: Midjourney
One afternoon, Luke was in the shower, and I saw his phone lying on the bed. My heart pounded as I picked it up. I know it’s wrong to invade someone’s privacy, but I had to know. I quickly unlocked his phone and opened his recent messages.
There it was, a group chat with his friends. And what I read made my blood run cold. He had written, “Imagine, guys, at her weight, she still wants me to take pictures of her! Where would she even fit in the photo? She hasn’t been the same since giving birth.”
A shocked woman checking a mobile phone | Source: Midjourney
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. This was the man I loved, the father of my children, saying such cruel things behind my back. I thought we were partners, that he loved me for who I am, but here he was, mocking me to his friends.
I put his phone back and sat there in shock. How could he? I felt devastated and betrayed. Our marriage was far from perfect, but I never imagined he thought so little of me. I cried quietly, not wanting the kids to hear.
A depressed woman sitting in a hotel room | Source: Midjourney
After some time, my tears dried up, and I felt something else: anger. I wasn’t going to let him get away with this. I needed to do something to show him that his words had consequences. That’s when I had an idea.
I took out my phone and went through the photos I had taken myself during the trip. I selected the best ones and posted them on Facebook with a caption that read, “Looking for a new vacation partner. Am I really so unattractive that even my husband doesn’t want to take pictures of me?”
A woman taking a selfie on a beach | Source: Midjourney
Almost immediately, the post started getting likes and comments. My friends and even some acquaintances chimed in with supportive messages. They praised my photos, calling me beautiful and expressing their shock at Luke’s behavior. I didn’t mention the specifics of what he said, but the message was clear.
When Luke came out of the shower, he noticed my mood had shifted. “Everything okay?” he asked, probably sensing the tension.
A woman using her phone while sitting in a room | Source: Midjourney
“Just peachy,” I replied, not looking up from my phone. I was still furious and hurt, and I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with him.
The next day, I was still reeling from the shock of Luke’s betrayal. I couldn’t shake off the things he had said about me. But then, something happened that added another layer to this already complicated situation.
Just before our trip, I had received news that my uncle, whom I had never met, had passed away and left me a substantial inheritance.
A closeup shot of a middle-aged man signing a document | Source: Midjourney
I had planned to share this news with Luke during our vacation, thinking it would be a joyous surprise. But after discovering what he really thought of me, I decided to keep it to myself.
That morning, word somehow reached Luke through his mother, who had found out about the inheritance. I was in the middle of packing our bags, ready to cut the trip short, when Luke walked in with a bouquet of flowers.
He had this sheepish look on his face, one that I had seen a few times before when he knew he had messed up.
A woman packing her suitcase | Source: Midjourney
“Hannah, I’m so sorry for everything,” he started, holding out the flowers. I took them without a word, waiting to hear what he had to say next.
He continued, “I know I’ve been a jerk. I shouldn’t have said those things. But honey, with your new money, you can hire a trainer and lose weight.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Did he really think an apology would be enough, followed by a suggestion that I use my inheritance to change myself for him? I was overcome with rage and replied, “Maybe I will, but without your advice.”
A closeup shot of a man holding a bouquet of flowers | Source: Midjourney
The look on his face was priceless. He had expected me to just forgive him and move on. But I was done. I had reached my breaking point. “Luke, I’m divorcing you,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.
His eyes widened, and for a moment, he was speechless. Then, to my surprise, he began to cry. “Please, Hannah, don’t leave me,” he begged. “I’ve already told my friends I was planning to buy a new SUV to go off-roading with them, and now, without your money, all my plans are ruined.”
A closeup shot of a man crying | Source: Midjourney
I was dumbfounded. It hit me then how little he valued me. It wasn’t about our relationship or our family; it was about what my money could do for him. I looked at him with pity and determination.
“It seems like you love my money more than me. You can find another way to buy your SUV, but you won’t do it with my money or by humiliating me. Goodbye, Luke.”
I walked away from him then, feeling a strange sense of relief coupled with sadness. This wasn’t how I had envisioned my life, but it was time to take control of my happiness.
A new black SUV parked along the roadside | Source: Pexels
I spent the rest of the day making arrangements to return home and start the divorce process. The support from my friends and family continued to pour in. Each comment and message helped me regain my confidence and belief in my own worth.
I realized that I didn’t need someone like Luke to validate my beauty or my value. I was enough, just as I am. I decided to move on with my life, focusing on my kids and myself.
Three women spending time together | Source: Midjourney
In the days that followed, I started working out, not because Luke suggested it, but because I wanted to feel healthier and stronger. I took up new hobbies, spent more time with friends, and even considered going back to school.
One day at the mall, I ran into Luke. He startled me with a half-compliment. “Hey! I almost didn’t recognize you, Hannah. You look different. How are you and the kids?”
“We’re both doing great,” I replied, not wanting to continue the conversation.
“Hannah, I’ve been meaning to ask you if…”
A man talking to a woman in a mall | Source: Midjourney
“I’m running late, Luke. I have to be somewhere. Excuse me,” I said before leaving. From the corner of my eye, I saw confusion and pain paint his otherwise calm and confident face.
But that didn’t bother me anymore because I was now free to live my life on my terms and feel comfortable in my skin. Rather than mourning my doomed marriage, I was ready to move forward with strength and self-love.
So, what do you think? Did I handle things correctly or was my reaction a little too overboard? What would you have done differently in my shoes?
A woman smiling while standing near a window | Source: Midjourney
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one you might like: When Eliza’s 10th wedding anniversary comes around, she hopes that Tom will take her away for a romantic getaway. But when he forgets about their anniversary and needs to work, she turns it into a girls’ weekend, only for her to see that Tom’s business trip is a rendezvous with his mistress.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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