Woman Demands Husband to Get His Stuff Out after Supporting Him for 23 Years — Story of the Day

A woman goes through a rude awakening in a cafe and decides to do something about it — the first thing to go was her husband, but did he deserve it?

Debra Skye was a 52-year-old woman who was very much young at heart. Although she was in her 50s, she did not recognize herself as an old woman — not that she had a lot of time to dwell on the subject, since she had to work three jobs to support her family.

Her husband, Austin Skye, had slowly become a financial burden after he lost his job more than two decades ago.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

At first, he spent all his time looking for a new job without luck, but after some time, he stopped searching. Austin slowly grew accustomed to life as a dependent without any responsibilities, and gradually, his hobby became lying on the couch in front of the TV, drinking beer, and eating chips.

His body was the first thing to change, followed by everything else. He was well-fed and clothed even though he was no longer working.

It was a dream come true for a man who was always lazy at heart. Everything was enough for him, thanks to Debra working different jobs, but he did not seem to notice how hard she was trying.

They had married when they were barely adults; Debra was 19 while he was 20, and they had been completely in love with one another.

That love was what Debra thought about as she continued to hope that Austin would once again start putting himself out there for work. She even remained his staunch supporter at times when their relatives ganged up to ridicule him.

They got married so early in their lives because she had gotten pregnant with their daughter, Kayla. Of course, there would have been consequences if they had not wed, but their love had made it a simple, even natural, decision.

Their daughter, like them, also got married early and gave birth to a child who would grow up without his father because the man divorced Kayla.

Left to fend for her child while not being able to go to work because of the minor child in her care, Kayla needed help, and Debra was who she asked for it.

A dependable mother, Debra chose to pitch in financially, giving Kayla a steady allowance to care for herself and her child.

Never once did the steady supply of money waver, and it made Kayla complacent with finding her own source of income. She stopped trying to search for a suitable workplace and started depending solely on the allowance she was receiving.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

It continued that way for a long time until one day, Debra was jolted to a painful realization. That day had been just like any other; the woman left her home early and stopped at Starbucks for her coffee.

Once in the cafe, she joined a line three people long and patiently stood waiting for her turn while keeping an eye on her watch.

“Gordon will eat me alive if I arrive late today,” she thought to herself.

Her boss knew how many jobs she worked and usually cut her some slack, but Debra knew she had been pushing her luck in recent days. As she impatiently tapped her feet, several teenagers brazenly walked into the cafe and cut in line just when it was her turn.

The cashier, a young man with a bored look on his face, said nothing and simply started serving them. Debra couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Excuse me?” she said through gritted teeth. “Don’t you see me standing here? It was my turn!”

“I’m sorry ma’am, kids will be kids right?” the man behind the counter said, offering an awkward smile.

“What’s your deal anyway?” one of the teenagers said.

“Yeah, got somewhere you have to be?” another said in a mocking voice.

“I don’t think pensioners have anywhere they need to hurry to,” the third teenager said.

“You can stand in the queue all day if you want,” they chorused as they moved to the other end to collect their orders. Debra had never encountered such unruly children before, and it shocked her but not as much as what they said.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

When she returned to her car, she took a long time staring at herself in the mirror. The woman she saw looked very tired. Many wrinkles had become evident on her face, and her dark hair was slowly giving way to grey. Debra couldn’t remember when the gray strands first appeared, and it reminded her of how much she had been neglecting herself.

“I can’t even recall the last time I was in a hair salon,” she thought in despair.

The thought made her wonder what she had been doing all that time, and an answer immediately emerged — slaving away.

It made her very upset and realize that all her life, all she had been doing was trying to please her family, at the expense of her own well-being. “This has to end,” she told herself.

The first thing Debra did was call her daughter to inform her of her decision.

“Hello Mama, I was just going to call you,” Kayla said as soon as she picked up the call. “I was hoping you could send me my allowance earlier than Friday?”

“No Kayla, I will not do that,” Debra said, annoyed that her daughter had not even let her speak.

“What? Mama, why?” Kayla complained.

“Because you’ve grown too complacent with your lot in life. It’s time for you to wake up.”

“What are you saying, Mama?”

“I’m saying effective immediately your allowance is terminated and you’ll no longer be receiving it. If you want money, get out there and work for it.”

With that, Debra hung up and went in search of a beauty salon, where she had her hair dyed before getting a beautiful haircut, manicure, and many other procedures.

She turned her phone off to enjoy what had become a novel experience, and after that, she headed to a mall and got herself several beautiful dresses, one of which she decided to go home in. Her old clothes did not leave the mall with her.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Upon arriving home, her husband, who had picked up a call from her boss redirected to their landline, asked where she had been.

“Two of your bosses said you didn’t turn up for your shifts,” Austin said from his position on the couch. When he turned around to look at Debra, he coughed up the bite of chips he had just swallowed.

“Debs, is that you?” he asked wide-eyed.

“Yes, it is,” she replied stiffly.

“You went clothes shopping and all when you were supposed to be working?” he asked her angrily.

She gave him a vague answer but he started scolding her about how much money she wasted treating herself to all those nice things.

They were in the middle of that heated conversation when Kayla walked into the house with all the confidence of a righteous person done wrong. “Why would you cut my allowance off?” she asked without pausing to read the room.

After a moment, she took in her mom’s new look and pointed out how comfortable she was spending so much on herself while refusing to help her.

Debra had to take a moment to calm herself down before responding by explaining what had happened to her daughter. The girl was still trying to contain her shock when her mother turned to her father and revealed her desire to get divorced.

“I’m done cleaning up after you Austin,” she said. The man was shocked. He could not understand why she suddenly turned upon them, but Debra did not back down.

“For the past two decades, I have shouldered this family’s financial burdens. But now I’m tired and would like to focus that energy on myself,” Debra said tearfully. It was like admitting defeat, but what choice did she have? Those she was fighting for had given up a long time ago.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I want you to leave,” she said.

“What? You can’t mean that,” Austin said.

“I do,” she said, then went past him to get to their room. After that night, Austin’s bruised pride caused him to move out of their home without trying to beg for forgiveness, and Kayla stopped asking Debra for money.

A month later, Debra quit her hard and disliked jobs and settled with one that really brought her passion. She lived her life, traveled the world, and when she could, helped her daughter to look after her grandson.

Debra never regretted her decision to divorce her husband even though he begged her to return after he found a job. “I will keep your offer in mind,” she’d told him, and he had not stopped trying to deserve her ever since.

What can we gain from this story?

  • Self-love is non-negotiable. Debra sacrificed for her family without thinking about herself until the rude kids pointed out just how much it was affecting her. Her awakening brought about change, and she was able to start living for herself once more.
  • Never stop trying. Kayla and Austin gave up so easily because they were getting all they needed through Debra, who never complained. They forgot that the only way to move forward was by trying, but luckily Debra was there to remind them.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a man who kicks his daughter out of the house only to meet her years later as a helpless, homeless beggar.

My Neighbor Totally Ruined My Windows with Paint after I Refused to Pay $2,000 for Her Dog’s Treatment

When Julia refuses to pay $2000 for a minor injury to her neighbor’s dog, it sparks an escalating feud. As tensions rise, Julia must navigate the chaos while dealing with family struggles. But after her neighbor splatters paint over Julia’s windows, she snaps and plots some dastardly revenge.

Let me tell you about the time I almost lost my mind living in what was supposed to be a peaceful suburban neighborhood.

My name is Julia, and for over a decade, I lived in this cozy little house with my husband Roger, and our ten-year-old son, Dean.

A cute suburban home | Source: Pexels

A cute suburban home | Source: Pexels

Life was pretty good, if you ignored the constant worry about Roger’s health. But everything changed when Linda moved in next door.

Linda. Just thinking about her makes my blood boil. She moved in with her golden retriever, Max, and from day one, we never saw eye to eye.

It wasn’t anything major at first, just little things like her loud music or the way she’d let Max wander wherever he pleased. But one sunny afternoon, things took a turn for the worse.

A golden retriever dog | Source: Pexels

A golden retriever dog | Source: Pexels

I was in my backyard, pruning my roses, when Max came trotting over, wagging his tail like he owned the place. Sweet dog, really, but curious. He sniffed around and before I knew it, he let out a yelp.

Poor thing had gotten a tiny thorn in his paw. I knelt, soothed him, and gently removed the thorn. Max licked my hand, and I gave him a pat on the head.

I walked him back to Linda’s, expecting maybe a thank you. Instead, she stood there with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

An angry woman standing outside her home | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman standing outside her home | Source: Midjourney

“Why is my dog limping? What did you do?” she snapped.

“He just stepped on a little thorn,” I replied, trying to keep my cool. “I took it out, and he’s fine.”

She huffed, and I thought that was the end of it. Boy, was I wrong!

I stormed over to Julia’s house, my blood boiling. I pounded on her door, holding up the incriminating evidence.

The next morning, I found a note stuck to my door. It read, “You owe me $2000 for Max’s treatment.”

I stared at it, dumbfounded. Two thousand dollars? For what? The dog had a minor scratch, nothing more. I decided to go over and clear things up.

A shocked woman holding a note | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman holding a note | Source: Midjourney

“Linda, what’s this about?” I asked, holding up the note.

“That’s for Max’s vet bill,” she said, her tone icy. “He was in pain all night because of that thorn.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s ridiculous,” I replied. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars as a goodwill gesture, but two thousand is out of the question.”

Linda’s eyes narrowed. “Either you pay up, or you’ll regret it.”

From that day on, Linda made my life a living hell.

A woman standing in a quiet suburban street | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a quiet suburban street | Source: Midjourney

She’d knock over my garbage cans, honk and flip me off whenever she drove by. The worst was when she tried to get Dean arrested. My sweet, innocent Dean, who was just riding a mini bike like all the other neighborhood kids.

One afternoon, I was sitting on the porch, sipping some tea, when I heard the familiar sound of Linda’s car horn blaring. I looked up to see her glaring at Dean, who was playing in the driveway.

“Get that brat off that bike before I call the cops!” she screamed.

An angry woman leaning out her car window | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman leaning out her car window | Source: Midjourney

“Linda, they’re just kids!” I shouted back, feeling my patience wear thin.

“Your kid’s a menace,” she retorted, “and if you don’t do something about it, I will.”

I wanted to scream, to cry, to do something, but I couldn’t. Roger was in the hospital again, and I was already stretched thin, trying to keep everything together. I took a deep breath and turned to Dean.

“Come inside, honey,” I said gently. “We’ll play something else.”

“But Mom, I didn’t do anything wrong,” Dean protested, tears welling up in his eyes.

A young boy with tears in his eyes | Source: Pexels

A young boy with tears in his eyes | Source: Pexels

“I know, sweetie. It’s just… complicated.”

I tried to ignore Linda’s antics, focusing on Roger and Dean. But it was like living next to a ticking time bomb. Every day, I dreaded what she’d do next. And then she finally pushed me over the edge.

It was a Sunday afternoon when I got the call. Roger’s condition had taken a turn for the worse, and I needed to get to the hospital immediately.

I packed up our things, dropped Dean at my mom’s place, and rushed to the hospital.

A hospital lit up at night | Source: Pexels

A hospital lit up at night | Source: Pexels

For two agonizing days, I stayed by Roger’s side, barely eating or sleeping, my mind a whirlwind of fear and exhaustion.

When I finally came home, I was hoping for a brief respite, a moment to gather my strength.

Instead, I walked up my driveway to find my house transformed into a graffiti artist’s nightmare. Red and yellow paint splattered across my windows, running down in messy streaks.

It looked like someone had tried to turn my home into a circus tent. And there, right on the doorstep, was a note from Linda: “Just to make your days brighter!”

Paint splattered on a house | Source: Midjourney

Paint splattered on a house | Source: Midjourney

I stood there, trembling with rage, the exhaustion of the past two days evaporating in the heat of my anger. This was it. This was the breaking point.

“Dean, go inside,” I said through gritted teeth.

“But Mom, what happened?” he asked, his eyes wide with confusion and fear.

“Just go inside, honey,” I repeated, softer this time, trying to keep my voice steady.

Dean nodded and hurried inside, leaving me alone with my fury.

A boy wearing a backpack | Source: Pexels

A boy wearing a backpack | Source: Pexels

I crumpled Linda’s note in my hand, my mind racing. Enough was enough. If Linda wanted a war, she was going to get one.

Before she could answer, a wail came from inside the house. I glanced past Julia and saw her son, Dean, sitting on the floor, tears streaming down his face.

That afternoon, I drove to the hardware store. I wandered the aisles, my anger giving way to a cold, calculating focus. I spotted the Japanese Beetle traps, and a plan began to form.

I bought several packs of the traps and the scent lures that attract the beetles. When I got home, I placed the scent packs in the freezer. The cold would make the wax easier to handle. My heart pounded with a mix of nerves and anticipation. This had to work.

A woman shopping in a hardware store | Source: Pexels

A woman shopping in a hardware store | Source: Pexels

At three a.m., I crept into Linda’s yard, the neighborhood silent under the cover of darkness.

I felt like a character in one of those spy movies Roger loved so much. Every rustle of leaves, every distant sound made my heart leap. But I was determined. I buried the scent packs deep under the mulch in Linda’s meticulously maintained flower beds.

By the time I finished, the first light of dawn was starting to break.

Early morning in a suburban neighborhood | Source: Pexels

Early morning in a suburban neighborhood | Source: Pexels

I slipped back into my house, my pulse finally starting to slow. I climbed into bed, exhausted but feeling a grim satisfaction. Now, it was a waiting game.

The next afternoon, I peeked out my window and saw them—swarms of Japanese beetles, glinting in the sunlight as they descended on Linda’s garden. It was working.

Over the next few days, her beautiful flower beds were decimated, the once vibrant blooms reduced to tattered remnants.

A beetle on a flower | Source: Pexels

A beetle on a flower | Source: Pexels

Linda’s Perspective: Beetles, Blame, and a Change of Heart

Let me set the record straight. My name is Linda, and I moved into this neighborhood hoping for some peace and quiet.

That dream was shattered when my golden retriever, Max, wandered into Julia’s yard and got a thorn in his paw. Instead of just returning him, she acted like she was doing me a favor by pulling it out.

The next day, I asked Julia to cover Max’s vet bill.

A dog lying on a sofa | Source: Pexels

A dog lying on a sofa | Source: Pexels

I mean, he was limping and in pain all night. But she had the nerve to offer me only $100 instead of the $2000 it cost. We argued, and I told her she’d regret not paying up. I didn’t expect things to get so out of hand.

Sure, I knocked over her garbage cans a few times and honked when I drove by—just to show her I wasn’t backing down. But Julia made me out to be the villain.

It wasn’t until my garden was destroyed by beetles that I realized things had gone too far.

A woman stressfully examining plants in her garden | Source: Midjourney

A woman stressfully examining plants in her garden | Source: Midjourney

I was frantic, running around my yard like a mad woman. On the third day, I was pulling out dead flowers when I spotted something odd buried in the mulch. It was a piece of plastic packaging, and my heart sank as I realized what it was—part of a Japanese Beetle trap.

Someone had done this on purpose. And I had a pretty good idea who it was.

I stormed over to Julia’s house, my blood boiling. I pounded on her door, holding up the incriminating evidence.

A front door | Source: Pexels

A front door | Source: Pexels

“Julia! Open up!” I shouted, my voice shaking with rage.

She opened the door, looking as calm as ever. “Linda, what’s going on?”

“What did you do to my garden?” I thrust the piece of plastic at her. “I found this in my flower bed. You did this, didn’t you?”

Julia’s face remained neutral, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—guilt, maybe. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Linda.”

“Don’t lie to me!” I screamed. “You ruined my garden! Why would you do this?”

An angry woman shouting | Source: Pexels

An angry woman shouting | Source: Pexels

Before she could answer, a wail came from inside the house. I glanced past Julia and saw her son, Dean, sitting on the floor, tears streaming down his face.

“Mom, is Dad going to die?” Dean sobbed, his little voice breaking.

Julia turned away from me, her face softening as she went to her son. “No, honey, he’s going to be okay. The doctors are doing everything they can.”

I stood there, frozen, watching this scene unfold. Suddenly, my anger seemed so petty.

A boy wiping his tears | Source: Pexels

A boy wiping his tears | Source: Pexels

Julia wasn’t just my annoying neighbor—she was a woman dealing with a sick husband and a scared child.

“Julia, I…” I started, but my words faltered. What could I say? I had been so consumed by my anger, that I hadn’t stopped to consider what she might be going through.

Julia looked back at me, exhaustion etched into her features. “I’m sorry about your garden, Linda. But I didn’t do it. I have enough to deal with without worrying about your flowers.”

An emotional woman | Source: Pexels

An emotional woman | Source: Pexels

The fight drained out of me. “I’m sorry, too,” I said quietly. “I didn’t know things were this bad for you.”

She nodded, not saying anything. I backed away, feeling like an idiot. How had I let things get so out of hand?

After that, I kept to myself. I stopped the petty harassment, realizing that Julia had enough on her plate. My garden slowly recovered, and while Julia and I never became friends, we managed to coexist peacefully.

A well-kept garden | Source: Pexels

A well-kept garden | Source: Pexels

Years later, I still think about that time. Sometimes, you need to look beyond your own troubles to see what others are going through. Julia and I have remained distant neighbors, but there’s a quiet understanding between us—a mutual respect born out of adversity.

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