My ex-husband once told me, “It’s just harmless fun.” That’s what he called his infidelity. But when he ripped the wallpaper off my walls after our divorce, karma decided it was her turn to have some fun — with him.
Do you believe in karma? Like, honestly, I used to think it was just something people said to make themselves feel better after someone hurt them. They’d say things like: “Don’t worry, karma will get them.”
Yeah, right. But let me tell you, karma is real. And in my case? She had a WICKED sense of humor.
A heartbroken woman | Source: Midjourney
Let me set the stage for you. My ex-husband, Dan, and I were married for eight years. Eight long years where I thought we had something solid — a house we worked on together, two beautiful kids, and a life that, while not perfect, felt like ours.
But as it turns out, I was the only one in that marriage who believed in “ours.” And I should’ve seen the red flags.
Because the night I discovered Dan’s infidelity is seared into my memory.
A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash
Our daughter Emma had been sick with a fever, and I was rummaging through Dan’s drawer for the children’s medicine he always kept there. Instead, I found his phone.
I wasn’t trying to snoop, but a notification that flashed across the screen grabbed my attention: a heart emoji followed by ‘I love you!’
I couldn’t stop myself from opening it and my heart cracked when I found dozens of intimate text exchanges between my husband and a woman named “Jessica.”
A shocked woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney
“How could you?” I whispered that night, my hands shaking as I confronted him. “Eight years, Dan. Eight years! How could you cheat on me?”
He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. “It just happened,’ he said with a shrug, as if we were discussing the weather. “These things happen in marriages. It was just some harmless fun with my secretary, Jessica. It won’t happen again, honey. Never! I’m sorry. Trust me.”
“These things happen? No, Dan. They don’t JUST HAPPEN. You made choices. Every single time.”
An annoyed man shrugging | Source: Midjourney
The first time, I did what so many of us do — I convinced myself it was a mistake and a lapse in judgment. I thought we could fix it. I told myself that forgiveness was the strong thing to do. But the second time? Oh, the second time SHATTERED whatever illusions I had left.
“I thought we could work through this,” I said as I held up the evidence of his second betrayal — red lipstick stain on his collar. The irony? I hated red lipstick and never wore them.
“I thought you meant it when you said ‘never’ again.”
“What do you want me to say?” he asked, his tone almost bored. “That I’m sorry? Would that make you feel better?”
That was the moment something inside me snapped. “No! I want you to pack your bags.”
An angry woman engaged in a heated argument | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t waste a second. I filed for divorce before Dan could even stammer out another pathetic excuse.
The divorce itself was as brutal as you’d imagine.
But here’s the thing: the house wasn’t up for grabs. It was mine, passed down from my grandmother long before Dan entered the picture.
A picturesque house with a breathtaking garden | Source: Midjourney
“This is ridiculous!” Dan had shouted during one of our mediation sessions. “I’ve lived in that house for eight years. I’ve put money into it!”
“And it’s still my grandmother’s house,” I replied calmly, watching him fume. “The deed is in my name, Dan. It always has been.”
Legally, there was no argument. Dan, on the other hand, insisted on splitting everything else 50/50, just as we always had in our marriage. Groceries, vacations, furniture — you name it, he demanded fairness to the penny.
A woman arguing with someone | Source: Midjourney
And then came the moment that broke my heart more than any of his infidelities. We were discussing custody arrangements when Dan looked at our lawyer and without a hint of emotion, said, “She can have full custody. I don’t want the responsibility of raising the kids.”
Our children, Emma and Jack, were in the next room. My precious babies, who deserved so much better than a father who saw them as a burden.
“They’re your children,” I hissed across the table. “How can you just —”
“They’re better off with you anyway,” he cut me off. “You’ve always been the one good at all that nurturing stuff.”
A man staring grimly | Source: Midjourney
After the paperwork was signed, Dan asked for a week to pack his things and leave. He claimed he needed the time to “sort everything out.” To give him the space and to spare the kids from any awkward encounters, I took them to my mom’s for the week.
The night before we left, Emma clutched her favorite stuffed rabbit and asked, “Mommy, why can’t Daddy come with us to Grandma’s?”
I held her close, fighting back tears. How do you explain to a six-year-old what a divorce means, or why her family was breaking apart?
“Sometimes, sweetheart, grown-ups need some time apart to figure things out,” I said.
A sad little girl holding a stuffed rabbit | Source: Midjourney
“But will he miss us?” Jack, my eight-year-old, asked from the doorway.
“Of course he will,” I lied, my heart breaking all over again. “Of course he will.”
I figured it was the least I could do.
When the week was up, I returned home with the kids, ready to start our new chapter. But what I walked into was nothing short of a nightmare.
The wallpaper — the gorgeous floral wallpaper — was GONE.
A startled woman | Source: Midjourney
The living room walls, once covered in beautiful floral paper we’d picked out together, were stripped bare. Jagged patches of drywall peeked through, like the house had been skinned alive. My stomach sank as I followed the destruction trail to the kitchen.
And there he was — Dan— tearing off another strip of wallpaper like a man possessed.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled.
He turned around, completely unfazed. “I bought this wallpaper. It’s mine.”
“Dan,” I finally managed. “You’re ripping apart the house your kids live in.”
A man ripping a floral wallpaper | Source: Midjourney
“Mom?” Jack’s voice trembled. “Why is Dad doing that to our walls?”
He burst into tears. “I loved the flowers! They were pretty! Why are you tearing the wallpaper, Daddy?”
I knelt down to their level, trying to shield them from the sight of their father methodically destroying our home. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. We can pick out new wallpaper together. Something even prettier. Would you like that?”
A little boy crying | Source: Pexels
“But why is he taking it?” Emma hiccupped between sobs.
I didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t hurt them even more. I shot Dan a look sharp enough to wither him.
He simply shrugged and said, “I paid for it. And I have all the right to destroy it!”
A man turning around while removing a wallpaper | Source: Midjourney
As Dan continued to rip the walllpaper, I noticed the kids peeking around the corner, their little faces confused and scared. My heart broke for them. I didn’t want this to be the memory they carried of their father in this house.
So I took a deep breath and said, “Fine. Do what you want.” Then I ushered the kids back to the car and left.
When I returned later that evening, it was even worse than I’d expected.
A woman driving a car | Source: Unsplash
Dan had gone full petty. The kitchen was stripped of utensils, the toaster, and even the coffee maker. He’d even taken all the toilet paper from the bathrooms… and practically everything he’d bought with his OWN MONEY.
“You’re UNBELIEVABLE!” I muttered.
It was maddening. But I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten under my skin.
A man holding a toilet paper roll | Source: Unsplash
A month later, I joined a book club. At first, it was just a way to get out of the house and feel like myself again. But the women there quickly became my support system.
One night, after a couple of glasses of wine, I spilled the wallpaper story. I described every absurd detail, from the stripped walls to the missing toilet paper.
“Wait, he took the toilet paper too?” Cassie, one of the women, choked out between laughs.
“Yes!” I said, laughing despite myself. “I can’t believe I married someone so ridiculous that I don’t even feel like uttering his name.”
A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney
“Girl,” Cassie said, wiping tears from her eyes, “you dodged a bullet. Who does that? A grown man ripping wallpaper off walls? He sounds like an overgrown toddler. Gosh, please don’t reveal his name or we’d start despising every man with that name!”
The whole table erupted into laughter. It was cathartic. It was the first time I’d really laughed about the whole mess.
“You know what the worst part was?” I confided to the group, my wine glass nearly empty. “Trying to explain it to the kids. How do you tell your children their father cares more about wallpaper than their happiness?”
A distressed woman | Source: Midjourney
Betty, another book club member, reached across and squeezed my hand. “Children are resilient. They’ll remember who stayed and who put them first. That’s what matters.”
“I hope so,” I whispered, thinking of Emma’s tears and Jack’s confusion. “God, I hope so.”
Little did I know, karma was just getting started.
Six months passed. Life settled into a new normal. The kids were thriving, and I’d put the chaos of the divorce behind me. Dan barely crossed my mind — until the day he called me out of nowhere.
A man making a phonecall | Source: Midjourney
“Hey,” he said, his tone smug. “I thought you should know — I’m getting married next month. Some women actually want to be with me. And I found a gorgeous bombshell!”
“Congratulations,” I said, keeping my voice even. Then I hung up.
I thought that would be the end of it. But a few weeks later, I was walking downtown, enjoying a rare solo outing, when I spotted Dan across the street. He was holding hands with a woman.
A couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash
At first, I didn’t think much of it. I figured it was his fiancée and kept walking. But then, they crossed the street and walked straight toward me.
As they got closer, my stomach DROPPED. The woman was CASSIE— my friend from the book club.
Her face lit up when she saw me. “Oh my gosh, hey!” she said, tugging Dan toward me. “This is such a small world! I have so much to tell you! I’m engaged! This is my fiancé, his name is…”
I forced a tight smile. “Yeah, DAN! I know.”
A shocked woman standing on the road | Source: Midjourney
Cassie blinked, her smile faltering. “Wait… you know each other?”
Dan looked like he wanted to disappear. His grip on her hand tightened, and his jaw clenched.
“Oh, we go way back,” I said casually.
Cassie’s eyes darted between us, confusion turning to suspicion. “What do you mean, ‘go way back’? How do you know each other? Dan, do you… know her?”
A stunned woman | Source: Midjourney
Dan let out a nervous laugh. “Cassie, it’s not important —”
“Oh, yeah! Not that important. He’s just my ex-husband,” I said bluntly, cutting him off.
Cassie’s face froze, and then realization dawned. “Wait a second,” she said slowly. “That story you told at the book club… the one about the wallpaper? About that freaking guy? Is that… him?”
Her words hung in the air. And Dan’s panicked expression said it all.
A nervous man standing on the street | Source: Midjourney
Cassie turned to him, her eyes narrowing. “Oh my God… that was YOU?”
“Cassie, it’s not what you think —” Dan pleaded.
“It’s exactly what I think,” she snapped. “You ripped wallpaper off the walls of your kids’ home because you bought it? Who does that?”
A furious woman yelling at a man | Source: Midjourney
“It was a long time ago,” Dan stammered. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” Cassie hissed, pulling her hand away. “And what about the lies? The evil ex-wife who took your kids to another country? That she cheated on you? You’re unbelievable, Dan. You liar!”
She turned to me, her expression softening. “I’m so sorry, Nora. I had no idea.”
A heartbroken woman with her eyes downcast | Source: Midjourney
Before I could respond, Cassie whirled back to Dan. “You’re a walking red flag. I can’t believe I almost married you.”
And just like that, she stormed off, leaving Dan standing there, dumbstruck, and staring at the engagement ring she’d just flung at him.
He glanced at me, his face a thundercloud of anger and desperation. I just smiled faintly and walked away. This DAMAGE was more than enough!
A woman walking away | Source: Midjourney
That evening, as I tucked the kids into bed, Jack asked me something that made my heart swell.
“Mom, remember when Dad took all the wallpaper?”
I tensed, waiting for the pain in his voice. Instead, he surprised me.
“I’m glad we got to pick out the new ones together,” he said, smiling. “The dinosaurs in my room are way cooler than those old flowers. Daddy can keep that wallpaper to himself!”
Emma nodded enthusiastically from her bed. “And my butterflies! They’re the prettiest ever!”
A stunning kids’ room with gorgeous wallpaper and stuffed toys | Source: Midjourney
I looked around at our colorful walls, now covered in papers we’d chosen together, as a family of three. Walls that told our new story, not the one Dan had tried to strip away.
“You know what?” I said, pulling them both close. “I think so too.”
That day, I learned an important lesson: sometimes, you don’t need to chase revenge. Just give karma a little time, and it’ll serve justice with a side of poetic irony.
A woman smiling | 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 Son Drew Pictures of a Strange Man — When I Asked Him, He Said, ‘He Comes to See Mommy When You’re at Work’
I was stunned when my son started drawing a grinning stranger. “He comes to see Mommy when you’re at work,” Oliver said innocently. Initially dismissing it as a childish fantasy, I soon spied a mysterious man entering our home, igniting a chilling quest for the truth.
I found the drawing while tidying up the dining table. Most of Oliver’s pictures were what you’d expect from a six-year-old: dinosaurs with rainbow scales, our house with a chimney that looked more like a volcano, and stick figures of our family holding hands. But this one made me pause.
A man frowning at a drawing | Source: Midjourney
Among the crayon scribbles was a tall figure with unnaturally long arms and huge hands, wearing what looked like a suit. The figure had an enormous grin that stretched across most of its face.
“Oliver,” I called out, trying to keep my voice casual as my fingers crinkled the edge of the paper. “Is this me in the picture? Who is this?”
My son looked up from his LEGOs, his blue eyes bright with excitement.
An excited boy with a bright smile | Source: Midjourney
The plastic blocks clattered as he dropped them onto the hardwood floor. “That’s Mr. Smiles, Daddy! He’s Mommy’s new friend. He comes to see her when you’re at work.”
My heart skipped a beat. Laura and I had been married for nine years. We’d had our ups and downs like any couple, weathered job changes and family losses, and celebrated promotions and birthdays. But never, not once, did I think she’d…
No, I shook the thought away. There had to be a reasonable explanation. Laura wasn’t that kind of person. We’d built too much together.
A concerned man holding a paper | Source: Midjourney
“When does he come over?” I asked, proud of how steady my voice remained despite the tremor in my hands.
Oliver stacked another block on his tower, his tongue poking out in concentration.
“Sometimes in the morning. Sometimes at night. He always makes Mommy and me laugh.” He glanced up, suddenly serious, his small face scrunching with the weight of importance. “But, Daddy, it’s a secret! Don’t tell anyone!“
An emotional man standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
The mention of laughter and secrecy felt like ice in my stomach.
That night, I barely slept, watching Laura’s peaceful face in the darkness. The steady rhythm of her breathing, once comforting, now felt like a taunt. Every time she shifted in her sleep, I wondered what she was dreaming about. Who she was dreaming about.
The next day, I left work early, parked down the street from our house, and waited. The fall air grew crisp as the afternoon wore on, and fallen leaves skittered across my windshield. A little after 3 p.m., a sleek black car pulled into our driveway.
A black car parked in a driveway | Source: Pexels
A tall, wiry man stepped out and marched up to the front door. Even from this distance, I could see his broad smile when Laura welcomed him inside. The door closed behind them.
I gripped my steering wheel until my knuckles turned white; the leather creaking under my fingers.
“Maybe this is all in my head,” I whispered to myself, watching my breath fog the window. “But if I’m wrong, I need to know for sure.”
A man sitting in a car | Source: Pexels
Over the next few weeks, I started buying Laura flowers and gifts, trying to rekindle our bond, but I also began documenting everything.
The evidence piled up: receipts for dinners I didn’t attend, calls she’d leave the room to take, and, of course, more pictures of “Mr. Smiles” drawn by Oliver. Each new piece of evidence felt like another brick in a wall being built between us.
Laura noticed the change in me.
A woman staring at her husband during dinner | Source: Midjourney
“Are you feeling okay?” she asked one day, touching my forehead with concern. “You seem distracted lately.”
The genuine worry in her voice only confused me more. How could she act so normal if she was hiding something so huge?
“I… do you have someone else?” I asked.
“Someone else?” Laura stared at me with wide eyes, then shook her head.
A woman looking at her husband with wide eyes | Source: Midjourney
“Of course not, honey!” She let out a little chuckle. “How could you think that?”
Maybe I should’ve confronted her then, but all my evidence was circumstantial. I needed cold, hard proof.
One Friday evening, I told Laura I’d be working late. Instead, I set up a hidden camera on the bookshelf in the living room and watched the feed from my car parked around the corner.
A bookshelf in a living room | Source: Pexels
The screen of my phone cast a blue glow across my face as I waited, my coffee growing cold in its cup holder.
Right on schedule, Mr. Smiles arrived, and Laura greeted him with that same warm smile that used to be reserved for me.
But then something strange happened. He didn’t settle on the couch or share a private dinner. Instead, my sister walked in, and Oliver came bounding down the stairs with a beaming smile. More people arrived: neighbors and friends!
A man looking at his phone in confusion | Source: Midjourney
They all knew about this? And worse, they were having a secret get-together! I watched in stunned silence as Mr. Smiles, now wearing a festive party hat, juggled three oranges for Oliver and made him laugh.
“What the heck is going on?” I muttered, fumbling with my car door.
Rage and confusion propelled me toward the house. The evening air felt thick and heavy as I stormed up our front walk. I burst through the front door, making everyone freeze mid-conversation, the cheerful music cutting off abruptly.
A group of people in a living room staring at someone in surprise | Source: Midjourney
“Alright, you won,” I said, my voice trembling. “Everyone here knew, didn’t they? Even Oliver? Even my sister?”
“No, no! Please, stop!” Laura’s face had gone pale, her hands clutching a roll of streamers that cascaded to the floor.
I turned to Mr. Smiles, who had stopped juggling and was staring at me with wide eyes.
“You’ve disrespected me as a man, and you’ve got no business being here! It’s my house! It’s my…”
My voice trailed off as I spotted something shiny on the floor.
A man speaking angrily to someone | Source: Midjourney
A banner, not yet hung, with golden letters that read “Happy 10th Anniversary!” The metallic paper caught the light from our living room lamps, throwing sparkles across the ceiling.
The room went completely silent. Laura’s hands covered her mouth, tears welled in her eyes, and she smudged her carefully applied makeup. Mr. Smiles cleared his throat and stepped forward, his famous grin nowhere to be seen.
“Sir, I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” he said softly, his professional demeanor never wavering. “I’m a wedding planner and party animator. Your wife hired me months ago to plan this event — your wedding anniversary!”
A man speaking in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“You thought I was cheating on you?” Laura’s voice cracked with hurt and disbelief, each word falling like a stone between us.
I felt the floor shift beneath my feet. The room suddenly seemed too bright, too crowded, the decorations garish and mocking.
“I… I didn’t know what else to think,” I stammered, my collar feeling too tight. “I saw him coming here, and Oliver said a man kept visiting while I was at work, that this man made you laugh…”
An emotional man looking confused and shocked | Source: Midjourney
“Oliver said he made me laugh because he does magic tricks for him when we plan,” Laura interrupted, her voice rising. “I was trying to do something special for you, and you thought I was unfaithful?”
My throat felt tight. “I’m sorry,” I managed to say, the words feeling inadequate. “I was wrong. I let my insecurities get the better of me.”
Laura wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, leaving a dark smudge of mascara. “How could you think that? After everything we’ve been through?”
An emotional woman speaking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
The party guests began quietly filing out, murmuring awkward goodbyes, their shoes shuffling across our carpet.
My sister squeezed my shoulder as she left, whispering, “Fix this.” Oliver looked confused and scared, so Laura’s mother took him upstairs to his room, their footsteps echoing in the tense silence.
When we were finally alone, Laura sat on the couch, her shoulders slumped. The streamers lay in tangles around her feet.
An upset woman sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
“I spent months planning this,” she said quietly. “I wanted it to be perfect. Remember our first anniversary? When you surprised me with that picnic in the park? I wanted to do something just as special.”
I sat beside her, careful to leave space between us, the cushions dipping under my weight. “I ruined everything.”
“Yes, you did.” She turned to look at me, her eyes red but fierce. “Trust isn’t just about believing in someone when everything’s perfect. It’s about believing in them when things don’t make sense.”
“I know,” I whispered, feeling the weight of my mistake. “I forgot that somewhere along the way. Can you forgive me?”
A couple having a serious conversation | Source: Midjourney
Laura was quiet for a long moment, her fingers tracing patterns on the fabric of her dress.
“I love you,” she said finally. “But this isn’t something I can just get over. You need to understand how much this hurts.”
I nodded, feeling tears start to fall. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”
“It won’t happen overnight,” she warned, her voice stern but not unkind.
A stern-looking woman speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney
“I know. But I’m not going anywhere.” I reached for her hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, she let me take it, her fingers cool against my palm. “Happy anniversary,” I said softly.
She gave a watery laugh that held both forgiveness and reproach. “Happy anniversary, you idiot.”
Upstairs, we heard Oliver laughing at something, probably one of his grandmother’s stories. The sound filled our living room, reminding us of all we had to lose, and all we had to save.
A couple in a living room glancing upwards | 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.
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