When Abby loses her job, she seeks comfort in her husband, Gregor, to keep them afloat until she finds another. But while Abby assumes that Gregor will be supportive, she finds out how he really feels when they celebrate his birthday surrounded by their closest people…
I’m not usually one to share my life online, but after what happened recently, I figured my story should be shared. Let me tell you all about the time my husband tried to humiliate me in front of his friends and how I turned the tables on him in the most satisfying way.
A pensive woman in her forties | Source: Midjourney
I met Gregor when I was in my forties. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, and the marriage dream had died a long time ago for me.
“Come on, Abby,” my mother said. “It’s never too late to find someone. Don’t you just want to be married and settle down?”
I shook my head.
In reality, I did want that, but after a toxic relationship in my thirties, I was done thinking about it all. I didn’t want that anymore.
A couple arguing | Source: Midjourney
But then, I met Gregor and we hit it off right away. He was charming, thoughtful, and genuinely seemed to care about me.
“I’ve waited my entire life for you, Abby,” Gregor said when he showed up at my house with a bouquet of roses and an engagement ring tucked away in his palm.
Our first year of marriage felt like one long honeymoon. We traveled together, laughed together non-stop, and truly enjoyed each other’s company.
A man holding a bouquet of roses | Source: Midjourney
It seemed that we just belonged together.
Gregor was successful in his career, working as an executive at a well-known firm, while I was also doing well in my own career. I worked for a marketing company and I really loved my job.
Life was good, and I felt like I had it all.
A smiling couple in their forties | Source: Midjourney
“I told you, Abby,” my mother said one day when I went to visit her with ingredients to make dumplings.
“I know,” I chuckled. “I should have listened. But I’m happy now, and I think I finally got it right.”
“It’s all going to be fine,” my mother said. “As long as you’re happy.”
A plate of dumplings | Source: Midjourney
But then life threw a curveball.
The company I worked for went bankrupt, and just like that, I was out of a job.
It was a blow, not just financially, but also to my confidence. I was good at my job, but there was just something about being unable to do it that made me feel like I wasn’t good enough.
A close up of an upset woman | Source: Midjourney
“It’s going to be okay,” I told myself as I sat at my desk for the last time. We had all been called in to pack up our belongings and just say goodbye.
But deep down, I knew that although I prided myself on my independence and hated the idea of being reliant on anyone, Gregor was still there.
When I broke the news to Gregor, he seemed supportive at first. But it didn’t take long for his true feelings to surface.
An upset woman sitting at a desk | Source: Midjourney
“What? Now, I’m going to be the breadwinner at home? The only breadwinner?” he asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“It’s just for now,” I said. “I’m going to start the job hunt as soon as possible. But until I get back onto my feet, it’s going to be you running the home. Okay?”
“Well, it’s not like I have a choice, right?” he said, rolling his eyes.
A grumpy man | Source: Midjourney
“It’s not for long,” I promised. “Just give me a few weeks and I’ll have another job ready to go.”
I had to admit, I was taken aback by his reaction, but understood his concern. I quickly started job hunting, determined to find something else.
I sat down at my laptop and stared at the screen until the words blurred.
A woman using her laptop | Source: Midjourney
“Come on, Abby,” I told myself. “You need to find something. You just need the world to give you a break, that’s all.”
While I was searching, I took a temporary job as a cleaner in a nearby restaurant. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was honest work, and it helped keep us afloat.
“At least your boss is happy to give us food,” Gregor said one evening as I unwrapped leftover steak and veggies from the restaurant.
A woman holding a mop | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, the manager would rather have food sent home for our families to enjoy rather than just throw it out,” I said, cutting my steak.
“It’s good food,” Gregor said. “But at the same time, it’s not a good job for you. Our family and friends are used to seeing you with your nails and hair done, wearing high heels and fancy outfits. Not black slacks and an apron, Abby.”
A plate of steak and veggies | Source: Midjourney
“I know that,” I said. “But it’s not like I’ve settled for the job. I’m still actively looking for another job. This is to keep us going until then.”
Gregor grunted and continued to eat.
For a moment, I had no idea who my husband was. But this man wasn’t the one that I had married.
A man eating | Source: Midjourney
Fast forward a few months to Gregor’s 45th birthday.
My husband decided to throw himself a big bash at an expensive restaurant and invited all his friends, family, and colleagues.
“So, he can complain about looking after his wife, but he’s fine with spoiling everyone else for his birthday?” my mother tutted on the phone.
An older woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know what else to tell you, Mom,” I said. “It’s just how he is. But I’m looking forward to this. It’s my first weekend off in a while and I just want to unwind and have fun.”
“I know, darling,” she said.
Admittedly, I was excited for the night, thinking it would be a chance for us to relax and just spend time together outside of our home.
A smiling woman on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Happy birthday, my love,” I said to Gregor when we got to the restaurant.
I had called ahead and asked for them to set up black and silver balloons around the table Gregor had reserved.
The night started off well, with good food, laughter, and drinks flowing freely. As the evening went on, tipsy people began to make toasts.
A table with food and drinks at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
First, was Gregor’s sister, Natalia.
“You’re lucky to have Abby in your life, brother,” she said, holding two glasses of champagne. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
I felt touched by her words and smiled, feeling appreciated.
Gregor’s friend, Tim, went next, talking about the joys of having Gregor in the office next door.
A woman holding two glasses of champagne | Source: Midjourney
Finally, it was Gregor’s turn to speak.
He stood up, his glass of champagne in hand, and began laughing before he even said a word.
“Oh, I know I’m lucky, Nat,” he said. “But let’s be real, Abby is lucky too! She’s basically my dependent now. I’d have kicked her out a long time ago if she wasn’t so obedient. It’s just a pity I invested all that money in her over the years.”
A man standing and giving a speech | Source: Midjourney
Gregor hiccupped and reached for a piece of shrimp from his plate.
The table fell silent, and my insides twisted more than they ever had. Embarrassed wasn’t enough to describe how I felt.
He was laughing, expecting everyone else to join in. Some people chuckled awkwardly, not knowing what to do, but most people looked around uncomfortably.
A plate of fried shrimp | Source: Midjourney
Gregor took another piece of shrimp before he dissolved into laughter for a while.
“Come on guys, that was a killer joke!” he bellowed in between laughing.
But then, as I sat there, something clicked inside me.
I decided I wasn’t going to let him get away with this behavior. This was toxic behavior.
A man laughing | Source: Midjourney
I wasn’t going to allow that back into my life.
Calmly, I stood up and took a deep breath.
“Well, Gregor,” I said. “It seems like you’re forgetting a few things. But let me remind you and everyone else about some investments I’ve made.”
All eyes were on me as I spoke, and Gregor’s smug smile slowly faded away.
An expressionless woman | Source: Midjourney
“You see,” I started. “While you’ve been investing in me, you’ve also been busy investing. The money you used to fund this luxurious celebration didn’t come from your account.”
Gasps erupted around the room.
“I saw the notification,” I said. “You took it from my savings fund. You don’t believe me? I can pull up the statement on my phone right now…”
A woman holding her phone | Source: Midjourney
“No…” Gregor said.
“I was willing to overlook this because we were a team, but it seems that we’re not. I know that you only took out the money to reserve this place, and that the rest of the bill needs to be paid when we leave here. Correct?”
Gregor nodded slowly.
“Correct,” he muttered.
A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney
“And I have the money with me, right in my purse,” I said. “I wanted you to have a good birthday, and I didn’t want you to pay for your own birthday dinner.”
I looked around the table, seeing the realization dawn on everyone’s faces.
“But do you know what? I think I’ll just keep it, along with my dignity.”
With that, I calmly walked off the stage and out of the restaurant.
A woman walking away on the pavement | Source: Midjourney
I don’t know how Gregor paid for the dinner, but I didn’t care. Instead, I went home and packed as much of my clothes as my car would allow, and I drove to my mother’s place.
I wasn’t going to stay in a toxic relationship again.
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
My Downstairs Neighbor Asked Me to Be Quieter at Night, but I Have Not Been Home for the past Week
When Piper returns from a trip with her friends, she cannot wait to get home to her husband. But as she unpacks her car, a neighbor approaches her, complaining about the noise from her apartment. If Piper wasn’t home, who was Matthew entertaining in her absence?
I had just returned from a blissful week-long camping trip with my friends. It was all about us taking time away from our lives and enjoying being away from the city.
My husband, Matthew, had stayed behind, claiming that he needed to stay at home.
A woman sitting outside and looking at the view | Source: Midjourney
“I have to be home, Piper,” he said when I was packing my bags. “It’s just work responsibilities. There are meetings and presentations coming up.”
“Are you sure?” I asked him. “Why don’t you come along, and then we can find you a place to work in between it all?”
Matthew smiled at me and sat down on the bed.
A woman sitting on a suitcase | Source: Midjourney
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said. “You go and join the others and have fun. You need some time away from this place.”
He continued to persuade me to go on the trip, and eventually, I gave in.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
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.
My MIL Gifted Me a Book, ‘100 Steps to Become a Good Wife for My Precious Son,’ So I Decided to Put an End to This — Story of the Day
On my wedding day, as vows were exchanged and love filled the air, Rick’s mother, Irene, found a way to steal the spotlight. From her dramatic interruption at the altar to gifting me a book, “How to Be a Good Wife for My Precious Son”, it was clear: she wasn’t ready to let me into her world—or her son’s.
I stood by the altar in my wedding dress, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me.
My fingers trembled slightly as I gripped the piece of paper with my vows, the edges soft and worn from nervous handling.
The air smelled faintly of roses and candles, and the faint rustle of silk from the guests’ outfits added a quiet hum to the room.
Across from me, Rick stood tall, his dark suit perfectly tailored to his broad frame.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
His smile was warm, reassuring, and completely for me. I felt my heart swell as I met his gaze.
“If you’ve prepared your vows, please exchange them now,” the officiant said, his voice gentle but firm, breaking through the haze of my emotions.
I unfolded my paper, smoothing it out with care.
“Rick, I love you,” I began, my voice steady but laced with emotion. I could see his expression soften, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I wasn’t sure how to begin, but I decided to start with what’s most important.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
A small smile played on my lips, and Rick chuckled softly, that familiar sound that always made me feel at home.
“These past four years we’ve spent together have changed my life,” I continued, my voice growing steadier as I found my rhythm.
“I was afraid of losing my old life and drowning in a relationship, so I hesitated for a long time. You know how hard it is for me to take big steps…”
“But I’m so glad I took this step,” I said, my smile widening.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’m glad I’m standing here before you now. With you, I feel like I’m becoming the best version of myself. I love you, Rick.” My words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity.
There was a soft murmur of approval from the guests—subtle, but enough to remind me we weren’t alone in this moment.
“Samantha, I love you. You know I’m not one for long speeches,” he began, earning a light laugh from the crowd.
“So I’ll just say this: I’m happy you’re becoming my wife today. From now on, we’re a family, and family always sticks together.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The officiant smiled. “Samantha, do you take Rick to be your husband?”
“I do!” My voice rang out clearly.
“Rick, do you take Samantha to be your wife?”
“I do,” Rick said, his voice steady and full of conviction.
“If anyone here objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the officiant continued.
The room went still, the silence palpable. I felt my breath hitch. Then, to my horror, Irene stood up.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Of course, she couldn’t just let this be about us. She always had to make herself the center of attention.
“Sorry, I just needed to go to the bathroom. Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Irene said, her voice sugary sweet and her smile tight.
“Mom!” Rick snapped, clearly exasperated. He gestured for her to sit, his jaw tightening. Irene waved him off, taking her seat with an air of mock innocence.
I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying something I’d regret.
The officiant quickly regained control. “I now pronounce Samantha and Rick husband and wife!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The applause exploded, filling the room. Rick kissed me, his lips warm and full of love, and for a moment, the world felt perfect.
But as I glanced toward the guests, my eyes landed on Irene’s empty chair. It didn’t surprise me. Not one bit.
The reception was in full swing. Music filled the air, guests laughed, and the soft clinking of glasses blended into the hum of celebration.
I should’ve been floating on a cloud of happiness, surrounded by friends and family, but instead, my mood was sour.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
My thoughts were stuck on the ceremony, replaying Irene’s little stunt over and over.
“You know she did that on purpose…” I muttered to Rick, sitting close beside me.
Rick sighed, his patience already thinning.
“Sweetheart, that’s not true. My mom loves you and respects my choice. Don’t make things up.”
“Loves me so much she couldn’t even wait a single minute until the ceremony was over? Seriously, Rick?” I shot back, keeping my voice low but firm.
“She’s an older woman. She probably really needed to go,” Rick argued, his tone defensive. “Or would you have preferred she… handled it right there in the hall?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
His eyebrows rose slightly, as if that was the ultimate argument-ender.
“Rick! Enough!” I snapped, crossing my arms. How could he be so blind to her little games?
At that moment, as if summoned by our discussion, Irene approached our table. Her face was stretched into that same overly sweet smile she always wore, the one that made my skin crawl.
“My dear son,” she said warmly, wrapping Rick in a hug. “Congratulations on your big day. I hope Samantha will take good care of you and that you’ll be happy!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Thanks, Mom,” Rick replied, grinning as if she hadn’t just insulted me in the guise of kindness.
Irene then turned to me, her smile never wavering, and handed me a small, neatly wrapped package.
I stared at it, reluctant to take it.
I peeled back the paper slowly, my stomach twisting with dread. When the cover of the book came into view, my chest tightened.
“How to Be a Good Wife for My Precious Son,” it read, in a perfectly polished font. I froze, staring at the title.
It even had her name printed below: “By Irene.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
My teeth clenched so hard I thought I might chip them. I forced a polite smile, but my hands were shaking.
“What’s this, Mom?” Rick asked, grabbing the book from me and flipping through the pages.
“Oh, nothing,” Irene said with a casual wave of her hand.
“I just thought Samantha could use a little guidance and advice.”
Rick, oblivious as ever, grinned.
“Oh, wow! It even has my favorite cookie recipe from when I was a kid! Mom, did you print this book yourself?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“All for my beloved son!” Irene chirped.
“Thank you, Irene,” I said through gritted teeth, somehow summoning the strength to be civil. “I’ll be sure to study this book carefully.”
“Samantha, don’t be mad,” Rick added, his tone almost scolding. “It’s a wonderful gift. Mom put so much effort into it.”
“Uh-huh,” I muttered, forcing a tight smile. Inside, I was screaming. But this wasn’t the time or place. Not yet.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Married life felt like a dream at first.
The days were filled with stolen kisses in the kitchen, whispered promises late at night, and the kind of laughter that made everything else fade away.
For a week, it was just us—our own little world, untouched by anything else.
But like a crack in glass, that perfect world fractured with one name: Irene.
“My mom’s coming over for dinner tonight,” Rick said casually while scrolling through his phone.
I froze, spatula mid-air. “What? Why?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He looked up, confused. “She’s my mom. Why can’t she just visit?”
“So she’s just coming for a visit?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
“Well… she wanted to cook dinner for us.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “So she thinks I can’t cook dinner myself?”
Rick sighed, already weary of this conversation. “Of course not! She just wants to help…”
“Oh, help me be a good wife for her precious son…” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Samantha! You’re misunderstanding again!” he snapped, his patience wearing thin.
“No, I understand perfectly,” I said firmly. “Your mom hates me and uses every excuse to meddle. What time is she coming?”
Rick hesitated. “In a couple of hours.”
“Good,” I said, already standing. “That gives me time to prepare.”
For the next two hours, I moved through the house like a storm—cleaning, cooking, and setting the table with meticulous care.
If Irene wanted a show, I was going to give her one. And I had a little surprise in mind, too.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The doorbell rang, echoing through the house, and I felt my shoulders tense. Rick hurried to open it, his face lighting up as he greeted her.
“Mom!” he said warmly, pulling her into a hug.
I stood a few steps behind, forcing a polite smile. “Welcome, Irene,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Irene replied with a saccharine smile. “We’re family now. This is my home too.”
“As you say,” I murmured, stepping aside as she waltzed into the living room like she owned the place.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her eyes immediately fell on the dining table, perfectly set and laden with food.
“So, you’ve already prepared everything?” she said, her voice tinged with disappointment.
“What a shame—I was hoping to cook myself…”
“There’s no need,” I replied calmly. “I’ve taken care of everything.”
“Well, we’ll see,” she said, her tone as sharp as a knife, before sitting down at the table.
She scanned the spread, her gaze landing on the soup. “Oh, is this tomato soup from my book? You’re already trying out the recipes?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, very useful recipes, thank you. But I made a few improvements…”
“Improvements?” she repeated, her voice rising indignantly.
Rick, oblivious to the tension, took a big spoonful and groaned in delight. “Oh my gosh, Samantha, this is the best tomato soup I’ve ever had!”
Irene’s smile faltered. “And my cupcakes…” she muttered under her breath as Rick continued eating enthusiastically.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Her displeasure was written all over her face, and I knew this was my moment. Rick went to the bathroom, and that was the moment I’d waited for to launch my plan.
“Irene,” I began, smiling sweetly, “your book inspired me so much that I wanted to repay your kindness.”
I picked up the remote and clicked a button. The projector on the wall flickered to life, displaying bold letters:
“How to Mind Your Own Business.”
“Today I proved that I’m more than capable of running my home and taking care of my husband. Irene, I appreciate your advice, but I’ll handle my life on my own terms.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Irene shot up from her seat, her face red with anger. “You’re not fit to be my son’s wife! And you know it!”
“Mom! How can you say that?” Rick walked inside the room, stunned.
“Rick, you know it’s true,” Irene snapped. “She’s not worthy of you.”
“Mom, enough!” Rick’s voice was firm now.
“I love Samantha, and you’ll accept my choice, whether you like it or not. I think it’s time for you to go home. I’ll call you a taxi.”
“Fine, dear…” Irene said with a huff, finally relenting.
I nodded silently, my heart pounding. For once, I felt victorious. In this battle for boundaries, I had finally taken a stand—and won.
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