Nicole stepped out of the lawyer’s office, shoulders slumped, looking every bit the part of the defeated ex-wife. Her heart was pounding, but she wasn’t sad. The overcast sky and the cold rain matched her outward appearance, but inside, she was bubbling with excitement.
Once the elevator doors slid shut, she couldn’t stop herself. A giggle escaped, quiet at first, then louder, filling the tiny space with the sound of pure, uncontained laughter. If anyone had seen her, they might’ve thought she’d lost her mind. But this wasn’t stress—it was the start of the next chapter. And everything was falling into place.
Mike thought he’d won. He had the house, the car, the money—everything he’d wanted. He was celebrating his “victory” while Nicole was secretly thrilled.
A few weeks ago, things had been bad between them. Mike had become obsessed with luxury—fancy cars, the biggest house, designer clothes. It wasn’t about love anymore; it was about the image. Nicole had played along, but the cracks were obvious. Divorce was inevitable.
It wasn’t the divorce she feared—it was Mike’s desire to “win.” He didn’t care about saving the marriage—he cared about taking everything. He wanted it all: the house, the money, the lifestyle. Nicole knew this. And giving it to him was part of her plan.
One evening, Mike came home late, his usual angry storm brewing. Nicole sat in the kitchen, pretending to scroll on her phone, barely acknowledging him.
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice sharp and tense.
Nicole sighed, not even looking up. “What now?”
“I want a divorce,” he said, throwing his keys down like he was dropping a bomb.
Nicole’s heart skipped a beat. Finally. She kept her face neutral, but inside she was smiling.
“Okay,” she said calmly, her voice steady.
Mike blinked, shocked by her response. “That’s it? No fight? No begging?”
Nicole shrugged, unaffected. “What’s the point? We both know it’s over.”
Mike’s frustration grew. He wanted a reaction, a fight. But Nicole wasn’t going to give him that.
The divorce talks were exactly what she’d expected. Mike sat across from her, barely hiding his smugness as he laid out his demands: the house, the car, the money.
“Fine,” she said, uninterested. “You can have it all.”
Her lawyer looked at her, concerned, but Nicole didn’t care. She had her plan.
Mike’s face lit up. “Wait—what? You don’t want the house? The savings?”
Nicole leaned back in her chair, cool as ever. “Nope. It’s all yours.”
Mike was ecstatic. “Great! I expect you out by six.”
“Sure,” Nicole said, giving him a small smile.
As Mike left, she sent a quick text: “Heading to the house to pack. Let’s proceed.”
Packing was easy. She took only what was hers—personal items, nothing more. The house had always been Mike’s trophy. Once she was done, she made the call.
“Hey, Mom,” she said when her mom picked up. “It’s time.”
Her mom, Barbara, had never liked Mike. She’d seen through him from the start. And what Mike didn’t know was that Barbara had helped buy the house—and she had made sure her investment came with strings attached. Strings Mike had missed.
The next morning, Nicole was settling into her new apartment when her phone rang. It was Mike.
“You set me up!” he screamed, furious.
Nicole put him on speaker. “What are you talking about, Mike?”
“Your mother! She’s in MY house! She’s taken over everything!”
Nicole smiled. “Oh, that? You forgot about the contract, didn’t you? The one that says Mom can live there whenever she wants, for as long as she wants, since she gave the down payment?”
There was silence, then Mike exploded. “You can’t be serious! I’ll sue! This isn’t over!”
But before he could say anything more, Nicole heard her mom’s voice in the background. “Michael, take your feet off my coffee table! And stop hogging the remote!”
Nicole stifled a laugh. Mike tried to argue with her, but Barbara wasn’t listening.
“You hear me?” her mom said. “And while you’re at it, fix the grocery situation! I’m not living off frozen dinners!”
The phone clicked off. Nicole smiled. Freedom had never felt so good.
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