I Paid $2,000 for a Group Trip Rental—Here’s How I Got My Revenge When No One Paid Me Back

Excitement for the weekend trip quickly turned to frustration when Sarah’s friends didn’t pay their part of the $2,000 cabin rental. But what they didn’t know was that Sarah had a plan to make sure they didn’t get away with it.

Each year, my friends and I plan a girls’ weekend trip. We take turns organizing, and this year was my turn! I was thrilled to find the perfect place: a cute cabin right by a beautiful, sparkling lake.

Everyone was excited and loved the photos I sent. We couldn’t wait!

The place looked like it came straight out of a magazine. It had a cozy cabin with a fireplace, beautiful views of the lake, and even a hot tub.

The total cost was $2,000 for the three-night stay, which came out to just $250 each for our group of eight.

“I went ahead and booked the cabin, so I paid the full amount,” I told my friends. “To keep it simple, I’d appreciate it if you could all pay me back before the trip. Does that work for everyone?”

Source: Pexels

“Sounds perfect, Sarah!” Mary was the first to speak up. “Thanks for handling that.”

“Absolutely, no problem at all,” Ella added.

“Great, that works for me too!” said Brittany.

One by one, everyone around the table agreed.

“Yep, sounds good.”

“No worries, I can do that.”

Everyone promised to pay their share before the trip started. It seemed like everything was set and would go smoothly.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

Source: Pexels

As the trip got closer, the “easy peasy” quickly became oh-so-frustrating.

First, it was Mary. “Hey Sarah,” she said cheerfully, “my car needs new brakes, so I might be a little late on my payment. I’ll get it to you next week.”

A week later, Brittany spoke up. “Ugh, student loans are killing me this month. Can I hold off until next payday?”

“I just need to wait until my next paycheck,” Melissa added.

Weeks went by, and every time I reminded them to pay me back, they came up with more excuses.

Source: Pexels

Each excuse was different, and none of them overlapped. It started to feel like they were all in on this together.

Then came the silence. Nothing. No texts, no calls, not a word from Ella, Dana, or even dependable Lisa.

By the week before the trip, I was out $2,000 and felt completely taken advantage of.

The same people I called my “friends” had quietly refused to pay me back. The people I trusted the most seemed to have teamed up against me.

Why were they doing this?

Source: Pexels

Had I done something wrong? Or were they just testing how I’d handle such a tough situation? I didn’t know for sure, but it was making me really angry.

I knew I had to take action, something bold to show them I wasn’t going to be a pushover.

So, I decided it was time to teach them a lesson they wouldn’t forget. I’m not usually one for confrontation, but this situation was beyond ridiculous.

The night before the trip, I took a deep breath, picked up my phone, and started the first step of my plan.

Source: Pexels

I sent a group text, full of fake excitement: “Can’t wait to see you all at the cabin tomorrow! It’s going to be the perfect weekend getaway!”

Little did they know, I had a sneaky plan in mind.

The next morning, I woke up extra early and jumped out of bed. I quickly got dressed and rushed out the door, ready to turn the cabin into our own special retreat.

At the grocery store, I pushed my cart down the aisles, gathering everything I needed.

Source: Pexels

A giddy smile spread across my face as I filled the cart with fresh fruit, cheese, and enough snacks to feed an army. I even picked out the best wine and juices. I wanted to make sure my friends would be well-fed and comfortable.

After paying for all the snacks and drinks, I got back in my car and drove to the cabin. It was even more stunning in person, with sunlight sparkling on the lake like a million diamonds.

I stocked the fridge with everything I had bought, preparing for the weekend.

Source: Pexels

I even set up a bonfire for that night, complete with cozy blankets and marshmallows.

The place looked perfect. I knew my friends would have the time of their lives here.

But here’s the catch: I took the keys and the garage door opener with me when I left for an “errand.”

Before locking up, I texted my friends, saying I had an urgent task and would be back by the time they arrived. They trusted me, just like I trusted them to pay me back.

But they broke my trust, and now, so did I.

Source: Pexels

If they wanted to enjoy the weekend at the cabin, they had to follow my rules. They needed to earn their getaway.

I wasn’t going to let them have a good time after they ignored my texts and calls.

By lunchtime, my phone started blowing up with frantic messages and calls from my friends.

“Hey, Sarah, we’re at the cabin, but the doors are locked!” Ella said.

“Did you forget something?” Mary asked.

Source: Pexels

I stayed calm and replied with a simple, “Oh no! So sorry, guys. I must have left the keys at home. But hey, the good news is I’m on my way back now!”

Was I really on my way back? No!

I was sitting at a nearby cafe, sipping my favorite iced latte. I enjoyed reading their messages as they arrived at the cabin one after another.

After I sent that last message, the number of their texts started to drop. They felt relieved that I was on my way back, but the truth was very different.

Source: Pexels

As their brief relief faded, they started calling and texting me again. This time, their messages were much more desperate. Some of my friends were angry, while others were trying hard not to lose their cool.

“How can you be so forgetful, Sarah?” Lisa asked.

“I can’t believe you’re making us wait like this!” Dana said. “I thought this was supposed to be a fun trip.”

Finally, I decided it was time to drop the bomb.

I sent a calm message: “Look, I’ll be happy to come back and let you all in, but only once everyone has sent over their share of the rental cost.”

Silence followed.

Then, a flurry of activity.

It seemed that the idea of a fun weekend getaway suddenly mattered more than car troubles, student loans, and all the other excuses they had come up with.

My phone buzzed with Venmo, PayPal, and Zelle notifications as the payments started coming in.

Within an hour, every penny was accounted for.

“You guys could have done this earlier!” I thought to myself as I grabbed the keys and headed back to the cabin.

Their faces lit up when they saw my car. Some walked toward me, while others went to the door.

“Sarah! Finally!” Mary exclaimed, relief clear in her voice.

I stepped out of the car, keys in hand. “Oh, so now I’m ‘finally’ here? How convenient,” I said, my voice full of sarcasm.

The group fell silent, and guilt spread across their faces.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Brittany began. “But you have to understand, I really—”

I cut her off. “No, Brittany. You all made excuses. I trusted you, and you took advantage of that.”

Lisa stepped forward, trying to mediate. “Sarah, we messed up. But can’t we just move on and enjoy the weekend?”

“Enjoy the weekend?” I scoffed. “After you all made me feel like a fool? After I had to practically blackmail you to get my money back?”

“We didn’t mean to hurt you,” Ella said softly. “We just didn’t realize—”

“Didn’t realize what? That $2,000 is a lot of money? That friendships are built on trust and respect?”

A tense silence fell over the group. For a moment, I worried that confronting them was a bad idea. I thought they might say they didn’t want to be there anymore.

I stood my ground despite the fear, letting the weight of my words sink in.

Finally, Mary broke the silence and wrapped me in a big hug.

“Sarah, I’m so sorry about the car thing. You were totally right to be mad.”

Brittany added, “Yeah, me too. I’m sorry. We’re all sorry.”

They all finally understood what they had done.

I took a deep breath and looked at each of them. “I’m glad you see it now. But remember, respect is a two-way street.”

We might not be planning any luxury cabin trips anytime soon, but at least we’ll do it with a new sense of understanding and responsibility.

This whole experience definitely made for a memorable story, even if it wasn’t the relaxing weekend I had planned.

But hey, sometimes the best lessons come wrapped in a little frustration and a lot of determination.

My MIL Sent Me a Huge Box for My Birthday – When I Opened It, Both My Husband and I Went Pale

My mother-in-law tried spoiling my birthday by sending me something horrendous as a gift. But this time, I refused to take her bullying and abuse, and with my husband’s help, I finally got revenge and the upper hand.

Two weeks ago, there was a knock at the door after lunch, and I wasn’t expecting anyone. The day, which happened to be my birthday, had started beautifully as I received calls from friends, warm hugs from family, and lots of love from my husband and our child. But little did I know that it was about to get messed up in a big way!

A happy woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

A happy woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

Mark was in the kitchen, wiping down the counters while our baby napped upstairs. I opened the door to find a delivery man holding a massive carton wrapped in bright, cheery paper. It was almost comical how oversized the box was, taking up nearly the entire doorway.

“Who on earth…?” I muttered to myself stunned as I helped the delivery man maneuver the box inside. Mark walked in, curious.

“Wow, that’s a big one! Who’s it from?” he asked, leaning against the wall with a slight smile.

A man smiling slightly while leaning on a wall | Source: Pexels

A man smiling slightly while leaning on a wall | Source: Pexels

I shrugged, equally perplexed. As I started to untie the ribbon and peel back the wrapping paper, a small note slipped out and fluttered to the floor. I picked it up, instantly recognizing the handwriting. My heart sank.

“From the wonderful woman who gifted you a husband.”

I read it aloud, my voice tinged with disbelief. My husband’s smile faltered, and he took the note from me, frowning.

“It’s from your mother,” I said, my voice flat.

A shocked man reading a note | Source: Freepik

A shocked man reading a note | Source: Freepik

A quick flash of tension tightened Mark’s features before he masked it with a reassuring grin. “Maybe it’s not as bad as you think, Jane,” he suggested, trying to stay positive.

I wanted to believe him, but my gut told me otherwise. From the moment we met, my mother-in-law (MIL), Linda, made no secret of her disdain and dislike for me. It wasn’t anything overt at first, just small, cutting remarks.

“Oh, you work in marketing? How… quaint,” she would say, with that half-smirk of hers. “My son deserves someone who can match his intellect, don’t you think?”

An older woman sitting on a chair | Source: Pexels

An older woman sitting on a chair | Source: Pexels

Over time, the comments became more pointed, especially after Mark and I got married.

“You know, in our family, we value tradition. A woman’s place is at home, taking care of her husband and children. I hope you’re up for the task, dear,” she’d say. She also never missed a chance to remind me of my modest background.

And when I had our baby, her disapproval only deepened. She never visited us at the hospital, nor did she come by when we got home. Instead, she sent a terse email: “I trust that you’re both managing, though I can’t say I’m thrilled about the influence you’ll have on my grandchild.”

A stressed-out woman with a laptop in front of her | Source: Pexels

A stressed-out woman with a laptop in front of her | Source: Pexels

Mark tried to brush off her words, insisting she didn’t mean them the way they sounded. But they stung all the same. Now, with this enormous box in front of me, I was shocked and felt a knot of anxiety twist in my stomach. Was this her attempt at making peace? Or was it another passive-aggressive jab?

“Go on, open it,” Mark urged gently, though I could hear the unease in his voice.

With trembling hands, I tore off the rest of the wrapping paper, revealing a plain, nondescript box underneath. I hesitated for a moment before opening the flaps. The sight that greeted me made my heart drop.

A woman reacting in shock | Source: Pexels

A woman reacting in shock | Source: Pexels

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Inside was a mountain of clothes that were massive, outdated, and frankly, repulsive. They were all sized 3X and 4X. They were the kind of clothes that might have been fashionable fifty years ago, and that was being generous!

The fabric was dirty, frayed at the edges, and reeked of mildew, as if they had been stored in a damp basement for decades.

Linda's birthday gift to Jane | Source: Midjourney

Linda’s birthday gift to Jane | Source: Midjourney

My hands shook as I realized what this was, a cruel, calculated insult. Linda wasn’t only mocking my modest background; she was trying to humiliate me in the most personal way possible!

Standing beside me, Mark turned pale as he took in the sight of the clothes. Without a word, he grabbed his phone and dialed his mother’s number immediately, his face hardening with each ring.

A man holding a phone to his ear | Source: Pexels

A man holding a phone to his ear | Source: Pexels

When she answered, my husband didn’t waste any time! “Mom, what have you done!?” he snapped, putting the phone on speaker so I could hear both sides of the conversation. There was a moment of silence before Linda’s voice came through, cold and dismissive.

“What’s the matter, Mark? Don’t you appreciate a thoughtful gift?”

“A thoughtful gift? Are you kidding me?” Mark’s voice was rising now, a mix of anger and disbelief. “You intentionally sent my wife a box of rags that wouldn’t even fit a circus clown! What are you trying to do?”

An upset man shouting on the phone | Source: Pexels

An upset man shouting on the phone | Source: Pexels

“I’m not trying to do anything, Mark. I simply thought Jane could use some new clothes,” Linda replied, her tone dripping with false innocence.

“New clothes? These are relics from the Stone Age! And they’re not even her size, Mom. This is disgusting!” Mark was shouting now, his face flushed with anger.

I stood there, feeling a mix of emotions. I felt hurt, anger, and something else I couldn’t quite place. Was it relief? Relief that Mark was finally seeing his mother for who she really was?

An upset woman standing and thinking | Source: Pexels

An upset woman standing and thinking | Source: Pexels

Linda’s voice turned icy. “You’re overreacting. I just thought she might appreciate something different. It’s not my fault she has such simple tastes.”

My husband’s jaw clenched. “This isn’t about taste, Mom. This is about respect, something you clearly lack for Jane! I’m done with your games!”

He hung up the phone abruptly, his hands still trembling with rage. He turned to me, his expression softening as he comforted me. “Jane, I’m so sorry. I had no idea she would do something like this.”

A man comforting an emotional woman | Source: Pexels

A man comforting an emotional woman | Source: Pexels

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my emotions. The hurt and anger I felt were overwhelming. “It’s not your fault, babe.” My MIL wasn’t being petty; she had made a calculated move to humiliate me on my special day! I couldn’t let her get away with this.

It was time for her to learn that her actions have consequences. When my husband saw the resolve in my eyes, to my surprise, he said, “Let’s teach her a lesson!” The plan we came up with was risky, but we felt it was the only way to show her I wouldn’t take her bullying anymore.

A happy couple discussing something | Source: Pexels

A happy couple discussing something | Source: Pexels

We spent the next few hours documenting every item in that box. I took photos of each piece of clothing, ensuring I captured every stain, every tear, and every sign of neglect. I wanted to ensure there was no denying what Linda had sent me.

As we repacked the box, I suddenly had an idea. “Let’s add a little something extra,” I said, my voice laced with mischief. Together, we found a framed photo of the three of us: Mark, our baby, and me smiling and happily.

Jane holding a framed family picture | Source: Midjourney

Jane holding a framed family picture | Source: Midjourney

I penned a note to go with it to send a specific message: “We may not fit your perfect image, but we are a family, and you can’t tear us apart.”

The next day, Mark called his father and sister, explaining what had happened. His father, always the peacemaker, sighed heavily. “I’m not surprised. She’s been like this for as long as I’ve known her. But this… this is a new low.”

His sister, Melanie, was more vocal. “That woman has lost it! I’m so sorry, Jane. She’s been unbearable lately. It’s time someone put her in her place.”

A serious woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

A serious woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

With their support, we set our plan into motion. We invited Linda over under the pretense of a casual late birthday celebration, hoping she’d take the bait. To our relief, she accepted, no doubt expecting another opportunity to exert her control.

When the day arrived, Linda walked in with her usual air of superiority. We led her to her seat, and in front of her was a photo album with all the dirty clothes she’d gifted me cataloged. Curiosity made her open the album, and she gasped when she realized what she was looking at.

A neutral-looking woman holding a photo album | Source: Pexels

A neutral-looking woman holding a photo album | Source: Pexels

“What is this?” she asked Mark.

“Don’t you recognize them? It’s the clothes you gave to Jane for her birthday. We decided to regift them to you.”

“I… I don’t remember gifting her any clothes,” she tried lying as her husband and daughter listened and watched closely.

Having anticipated that she’d try denying what she did, we asked her to follow us into the living room. She froze when she saw the massive box sitting in the middle. It was wrapped in the same paper she had used.

Linda shocked to see the wrapped up gift she sent Jane | Source: Midjourney

Linda shocked to see the wrapped up gift she sent Jane | Source: Midjourney

“Surprise!” I said with the same fake smile she always used around me. “We wanted to thank you for your generous gift, so we decided to give it back to you improved!” Linda’s eyes darted between the box and the gathered family, clearly confused.

Mark’s father and sister watched her curiously, waiting for her reaction. “Go ahead, open it and show them exactly what you got my wife for her birthday,” my husband encouraged, crossing his arms over his chest.

A man standing with his arms crossed | Source: Pexels

A man standing with his arms crossed | Source: Pexels

Linda hesitated, but with everyone’s eyes on her, she had no choice. She tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box, her face draining of color as she recognized the clothes she had sent me. Then, she found the framed photo, her note to me, and another letter.

Her face flushed with anger, her hands shaking as she clutched the picture. “What is this?” she demanded, her voice wavering between shock and fury.

“It’s a reminder that no matter how much you try to belittle me, I’m not going anywhere. Mark and I are a team, and we’re raising our child in a home filled with love, not hate.”

A serious woman | Source: Pexels

A serious woman | Source: Pexels

Stepping forward, my husband added, “You can either be a part of that or stay away. But we won’t tolerate any more of your games.” Mark’s sister, Melanie, grabbed the note my mother had included in her “gift” to me and handed it to her father.

Mark’s dad read it and shook his head in disappointment. “This is low, Linda. Even for you.”

Melanie nodded in agreement, her expression one of solidarity. “You’ve gone too far, Mom. It’s time to stop.”

A younger woman talking to an older one | Source: Freepik

A younger woman talking to an older one | Source: Freepik

Linda stood there, speechless, her gaze shifting from the box to the faces of her family. She realized she was outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and exposed. There was no coming back from this.

Mark took a step closer, his voice firm. “If you ever do something like this again, Mom, you won’t be welcome in our lives. You need to decide what’s more important to you: your pride or your family.”

A man having a serious conversation with his mother | Source: Pexels

A man having a serious conversation with his mother | Source: Pexels

Linda’s shoulders slumped as she muttered a barely audible apology. She quickly gathered her things and left the house. The door closed behind her with a finality that signaled the end of her reign of terror.

In the days that followed, she made a few tentative attempts at reconciliation, her messages laced with what seemed like genuine regret. But only time would tell if she truly meant them.

A happy couple with their baby | Source: Pexels

A happy couple with their baby | Source: Pexels

As for me, I’d never felt more empowered. I managed to turn her cruelty back on her. And the best part? The rest of the family finally saw her for who she was! She might have thought she was clever, but in the end, I was the one who had the last laugh.

And that, my friends, is how I got sweet, epic revenge on my MIL without even breaking a sweat!

A happy woman holding her baby | Source: Pexels

A happy woman holding her baby | Source: Pexels

If that story had you brimming with anger, then you’ll love this one about a MIL who doesn’t want her daughter to get back to work after going on maternity leave to take care of her first child. The MIL’s son-in-law faced her down and taught her a valuable lesson when the older woman tried to meddle.

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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