My wife Jane’s love for fitness started as a healthy habit. But little did I know, her trips to the gym were hiding a shocking secret that would shatter our family.
Woman exercising on a mat | Source: Pexels
Jane had always been into fitness. She loved working out, especially during college. Recently, though, her gym routine took over her life. What started as a few visits a week turned into a daily obsession.
At first, I thought nothing of it. Jane was 40 and still in great shape. She balanced her job with taking care of our kids, who were five and nine.
About 18 months ago, she started going back to the gym. It fit into her schedule, so I didn’t see a problem. Then, things changed.
Woman training at the gym | Source: Pexels
She began going every day, even on weekends. She started doing double sessions, one in the morning and one in the evening. It felt extreme, especially since she was four months pregnant.
I noticed she was irritable when she missed a session. “It’s like she’s a junkie needing a fix,” I thought. I shared my concerns, but Jane got upset. “The gym is my time,” she said. I suggested working out together, but she refused.
Woman using a leg press machine at a gym | Source: Pexels
I confronted her one evening after she got back from the gym. “Jane, we need to talk,” I began, trying to keep my voice calm.
She sighed. “Peter, can this wait? I’m exhausted.”
“No, it can’t wait. I’m worried about you. You’re at the gym all the time. It’s not healthy, especially with the baby on the way.”
Jane’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t understand. The gym helps me relax. It’s my escape.”
“Escape from what?” I asked, my frustration growing. “From me? From the kids?”
Woman working out at the gym | Source: Pexels
She threw her gym bag on the floor. “No, Peter. It’s not about you or the kids. It’s my time. I need it.”
“You’re overdoing it,” I insisted. “You’re missing out on time with us. The chores are piling up. People are starting to notice. Some even think you might be having an affair.”
Her face flushed with anger. “An affair? Seriously, Peter? That’s absurd.”
“Is it?” I shot back. “Because it feels like you’re hiding something. You won’t even let me join you at the gym.”
A couple quarreling | Source: Pexels
“That’s because I need this for myself!” she shouted. “Why can’t you understand that?”
“Because it’s tearing us apart,” I said, my voice breaking. “I miss you, Jane. The kids miss you.”
Jane’s expression softened for a moment, but then she shook her head. “I can’t give this up, Peter. I won’t.”
We stood there in silence, the distance between us growing. Finally, she picked up her bag and walked past me. “I’m going to bed,” she said quietly. “We’ll talk about this later.”
An up-close image of a sad woman | Source: Pexels
I wasn’t insecure. I also worked out and stayed in shape for my job. But Jane’s obsession with the gym was different. She was over-exercising and neglecting chores, leaving them all to me. People around us noticed.
They commented on her constant gym visits and how she’d changed. Some even hinted at an affair. It made me afraid to face our close circle of friends and family. I felt embarrassed and ashamed. The rumors were like a dark cloud hanging over me.
A pensive man looking out the window | Source: Pexels
Every time I saw someone whispering or casting a sympathetic glance my way, it cut deep. I started to avoid social gatherings, fearing the inevitable questions and silent judgments.
Emotionally, I was a wreck. My mind was constantly racing, filled with thoughts of Jane’s strange behavior and the possibility of her being unfaithful.
A man standing by the window | Source: Pexels
I felt betrayed, but more than that, I felt helpless. I couldn’t shake off the anxiety that gnawed at me every day. My confidence was shattered, and I started doubting myself. Was I not good enough? Had I failed as a husband? These thoughts consumed me, making it hard to focus on anything else.
I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I needed answers. Recently, I followed her to the gym. I waited 20 minutes before going in as a visitor. After changing clothes, I walked into the main hall.
A fitness club lined with gym equipment | Source: Pexels
I was amazed. There was Jane, teaching aerobics to about 20 men. “She must be working here as a trainer,” I thought. I went to the registration to check. They confirmed it – Jane was conducting personal lessons there.
Relief washed over me. This explained her absence. I decided to wait for her near the hall. When the training ended, the men left. But then I went in and saw Jane kissing a man. Anger surged through me.
A couple kissing while lifting barbells | Source: Pexels
“What are you doing?” I shouted. “Are you cheating on me?”
Jane’s eyes widened in shock. “Peter, what are you doing here?” she stammered, pulling away from the man.
“I followed you, Jane. I had to know what was going on,” I said, my voice trembling with rage. “And now I see it. Who is he?”
The man stepped forward, his expression smug. “I’m James,” he said. “Jane and I… we love each other.”
“Love?” I echoed, my heart breaking. “Jane, you’re pregnant with our child. How could you do this?”
Jane’s face crumpled, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Peter. I didn’t mean for this to happen. But James and I… we just connected.”
A close-up of a woman crying | Source: Pexels
“Connected?” I repeated, feeling a surge of bitterness. “While I’m at home, taking care of everything, you’re here with him?”
James put an arm around Jane, and I wanted to punch him. “We’ll make it work, Peter. I’ll take care of her, and the baby too,” he said confidently.
I looked at Jane, searching her eyes for any sign of the woman I married. “Is this really what you want?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Jane nodded, her eyes full of pain. “Yes, Peter. I’m sorry. I can’t live a lie anymore.”
I turned away, feeling the weight of betrayal crush me. “Then we’re done,” I said, my voice hollow. “I’ll file for divorce. And I’ll demand a paternity test.”
I walked out of the gym, my world shattered, leaving Jane in tears.
A close-up of a sad woman holding a tissue | Source: Pexels
I filed for divorce and demanded a paternity test. Jane took her belongings and left with her lover.
It broke me. Our 15-year marriage ended so abruptly. Jane explained, “I finally found true love at 40.”
She was willing to share custody of our kids. The paternity test confirmed I was the father of her child.
A man and a woman reading a document | Source: Pexels
Months later, I heard from relatives that James had been treating Jane poorly. He also started being distant toward Jane, just like she was to me. He snapped at her every chance he got and made her feel worthless.
Jane, who once thrived on attention and affection, was now craving the love and support she had taken for granted. James, once attentive and caring, became cold and dismissive.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Pexels
He would leave the house for long hours, sometimes not even bothering to tell Jane where he was going. The vibrant woman I once knew was now a shadow of herself, living in constant anxiety and regret.
Arguments became frequent. Jane would plead, “James, please talk to me. We can work through this.”
But James would snap back, “I don’t have time for this, Jane. You’re always nagging. Just leave me alone.”
A distant couple sitting on a sofa | Source: Pexels
Each harsh word and cold shoulder chipped away at her. She realized too late the mistake she had made. The man she left me for was not the loving partner she thought he would be. He made her feel insignificant and alone.
Jane found herself reflecting on our life together, understanding now the stability and care she had traded away. When we spent time with the kids, she barely looked me in the eye.
People sitting on a couch with their devices | Source: Pexels
She was embarrassed about how her life had turned out. Her once confident demeanor was now replaced by a sense of shame and regret. She tried to put on a brave face for the kids, but I could see the pain behind her eyes.
She was haunted by the choices she made, knowing she had thrown away a stable and loving family for a relationship that quickly soured.
Surprisingly, it amused me. She deserved it for her betrayal. I moved on, focusing on our kids and rebuilding my life without her.
A man and his children looking at a tablet | Source: Pexels
My Mother-in-Law Filled My Home with Cockroaches to Tarnish My Reputation as a Housekeeper – My Retaliation Was Severe
Elara thought marriage would be her happily ever after, until cockroaches invaded her home and her mother-in-law made her life a living nightmare. But when a dark secret blurred the line between victim and villain, Elara realized that revenge was the only way out.
I’m Elara, and I’ve been married to my husband, Jacob, for about a year now. Life, for the most part, has been good, really good, actually. We settled into married life with ease, enjoying the simple pleasures of being together.
Jacob is everything I could have asked for in a husband. He is kind, supportive, and always there when I need him. But, as with most things in life, there’s a catch.
That catch is my mother-in-law, Agnes.
From the very beginning, it was clear as day that she never liked me. Whether it was the way she looked at me or the not-so-subtle digs she made, her attitude was unmistakable. I’m not sure what I did to deserve her disdain, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that she saw me as an intruder in her son’s life.
Still, she’s Jacob’s mother, and for that reason alone, I’ve tried my best to live with it. To smile through her snide remarks and keep the peace, for Jacob’s sake. But no amount of forced smiles could prepare me for what came next.
Just when I thought I could handle her passive-aggressive digs, things took a turn for the worse.
For the past month, my house has felt like something out of a nightmare. No, scratch that. MY LIFE has felt like something out of a nightmare.
It started with a cockroach here and there. One scuttling across the kitchen counter. Another creeping along the bathroom floor.
But soon, they were everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE! The kitchen, the bathroom, the living room, hell, even our bedroom wasn’t safe. I’d wake up in the middle of the night feeling a tickle on my arm, only to flick on the light and see a roach making itself at home on my bed.
We called pest control multiple times. We bought traps, sprays, you name it. But no matter what we did, the roaches kept coming back, like they had some vendetta against me. And to top it all off, my mother-in-law just couldn’t resist rubbing it in.
“Honestly, Elara,” she’d say with that sickly sweet tone of hers, “you really should take better care of the house. Jacob deserves a clean home. How can you let it get this bad?”
It didn’t stop there. One afternoon, as she sipped tea in our living room, a roach had the nerve to crawl up the wall. Agnes’s eyes followed it with a look of exaggerated horror.
“My goodness, Elara,” she gasped, clutching her chest as if she were witnessing a crime. “I can’t imagine how embarrassed you must be, living in these conditions. I never had this problem when Jacob was growing up.”
Then there was the time she “helpfully” brought over a stack of cleaning supplies, dumping them on my kitchen counter with a too-bright smile. “I thought you could use these, dear,” she said, her voice oozing with false concern. “Maybe they’ll help you get a handle on things. I’d hate for people to think you can’t keep a clean house.”
Each comment was a jab, a twist of the knife, making me feel smaller and more inadequate every time. It was as if she reveled in my struggle, her words like salt in an already festering wound.
Every time she opened her mouth, it took everything in me not to scream. I’d nod, smile, and tell her I was doing my best, but inside, I was seething. This isn’t my fault, you old witch! I wanted to shout. But of course, I couldn’t do that. Not to Jacob’s mother.
But then, the universe threw me a bone. Or rather, Agnes made a mistake. She’d come over to “check on us” again, dropping her little barbs like confetti. As she left, she accidentally left her handbag on the couch. When I went to pick it up and move it, a receipt fluttered out. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but something caught my eye.
It was from a pet store. But not just any pet store—one that specialized in reptiles. And the item purchased? LIVE COCKROACHES!
My blood ran cold. For a moment, I just stood there, staring at that stupid piece of paper in my hand. And then, slowly, the realization hit me. Agnes was behind the infestation. She’d been sabotaging me, setting me up to look like the world’s worst housekeeper.
The anger that flared up inside me was blinding. I could feel it burning in my chest, my hands trembling with the force of it. But along with the anger came something else—something darker.
I wasn’t just going to confront her. No, that would be letting her off too easily. I was going to get revenge.
I stormed out of the house, receipt still clenched in my hand, and got into my car. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew I needed to strike back. Hard. As I drove, my thoughts raced, and then it hit me. I made a quick detour to that same pet store. If she wanted to play dirty, then I’d go nuclear.
Inside, I found exactly what I was looking for—a potent animal attractant. The kind hunters use to lure wild animals from miles away. The plan formed in my head like a beautiful, terrible flower, blooming with each passing second.
When I finally pulled up to Agnes’s house, night had fallen. She lived on the outskirts of town, right next to the woods, which made this perfect. I crept around her yard, spreading the attractant everywhere. The bushes, the flower beds, even the base of the house itself. I didn’t stop there.
I slipped inside — she always left the back door unlocked, trusting as ever — and sprinkled some inside too. The whole time, my heart raced with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.
By the time I finished, I was practically shaking with anticipation. I couldn’t wait to see what would happen. But for now, I went home, crawled into bed, and let sleep take me. And oh, how sweet that sleep was.
I dreamed of revenge, of Agnes’s horrified face, of the chaos I had unleashed, and I drifted deeper into that blissful darkness, savoring every second.
Then, just as I was reliving the final moments of my delicious payback, the shrill ring of the phone yanked me from my dream. I groggily reached for it, my heart pounding. It was Jacob, and from the frantic tone of his voice, I knew something big had happened.
“Elara, you won’t believe this,” he said, half laughing, half in shock. “Mom’s house was… attacked last night!”
I sat up in bed, trying to sound groggy. “Attacked? By who?”
“Not who—what. Animals. The whole yard was swarmed! Deer, moose, foxes, even birds! They trashed everything! They tore up the garden and broke the fences. And the smell… God, the whole place reeks. It’s like the animals turned the yard into their personal toilet.”
It took everything in me to keep from bursting out laughing. “That’s awful! What’s she going to do?”
“She’s coming to stay with us until it’s cleaned up. She doesn’t have a choice.”
I felt my stomach drop. Great, I didn’t think this through. But I couldn’t let him hear the panic in my voice. “Oh, okay. We’ll make it work.”
When Agnes arrived later that day, the look on her face was priceless. She was humiliated, furious, and worst of all, powerless. She barely acknowledged me as she walked inside, nose wrinkling at the sight of the cockroaches that still plagued our house.
“Oh, don’t mind them,” I said sweetly. “They just won’t go away, no matter what we do.”
I waited until later that night, after Jacob and I were alone, to show him the receipt. He stared at it, his face hardening as the truth sank in.
“She did WHAT?” he exclaimed, disbelief giving way to anger.
“Apparently, she’s been planting roaches in the house this whole time. I found this after she left yesterday,” I said, handing him the damning piece of paper.
Jacob stormed into the guest room, confronting Agnes right then and there. She tried to deny it, but the receipt was undeniable. She stammered out an apology, her face going red with shame.
“I didn’t think it would go this far,” she mumbled, eyes glued to the floor.
“Well, it did,” Jacob snapped. “And you’re paying for the pest control and all the damage you caused. Until it’s done, you’ll have to live among the cockroaches YOU brought into our lives.”
As I listened to their exchange, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Sure, I hadn’t planned on Agnes moving in, but at least now she was getting what she deserved.
Lying in bed that night, I felt a deep, dark satisfaction settle over me. Revenge might not always be sweet, but sometimes, it’s just what you need to get by. And as for Agnes? Well, let’s just say she’ll be sleeping with the roaches tonight.
And for many nights to come.
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