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 Friend Kicked Me Out of His Wedding, His Reason Stunned Me

So, I sold it. The buyer, Ben, seemed like a good guy—enthusiastic about fixing up the place. We shook hands, and just like that, the house, along with its memories, was no longer mine.

A week later, I received a letter via courier. To my surprise, it was in my grandfather’s handwriting. The paper was yellowed with age, as if it had been sitting, waiting for the right moment to be delivered. My hands shook as I opened it. The message was simple but intriguing: “Check the basement of the house.”

Without wasting time, I called Ben. “Hey, it’s Alex. I need to come by the house—there’s something I need to check in the basement.”

Ben, a little puzzled but still friendly, replied, “Sure, come over. The basement’s just as you left it.”

When I arrived, I barely recognized the house. Ben had already started making improvements. The yard was cleared, and the house had a fresh coat of paint. He greeted me at the door, and we headed straight to the basement. It was still dimly lit and musty, filled with cobwebs and old furniture. Ben watched me search, amused but curious.

“You sure your grandfather wasn’t just messing with you?” he joked.

I was beginning to wonder the same thing. But then, I noticed a loose brick in the wall. Behind it was a small, dusty box containing old letters and a key. Ben peered over my shoulder. “What do you think that key unlocks?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” I replied. But I had a feeling it was important. After thanking Ben, I took the box and key home, determined to figure out the mystery.

The next day, I returned to the house with a plan. As Ben opened the door, surprised to see me again, I made a bold offer. “Ben, I’d like to buy the house back.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought you said it was a burden.”

Taking a deep breath, I explained. “At first, I thought selling was the right choice. But after receiving my grandfather’s letter, I’ve realized this house means more than I ever thought. It’s not just a building; it’s part of my family’s history, a legacy I need to preserve. I can’t let it go.”

Ben considered for a moment. “Well, I’ve already put in a lot of work. You’d have to offer more than what you sold it for.”

I knew this wouldn’t be easy. “How about five grand more?”

Ben shook his head. “Not enough. The market’s good, and I could sell it for a profit. How about twenty grand more?”

My heart sank. Twenty grand was a lot. But I couldn’t lose the house now. “Deal,” I said, though it hurt to agree.

Over the next week, I finalized the paperwork to buy the house back. During this time, I met Clara, a local historian with a passion for old homes. Over coffee, I shared the story of my grandfather’s house, and she was instantly intrigued.

“Your grandfather sounds incredible,” Clara said. “If you ever need help restoring the house or researching its history, I’d love to assist.”

I gratefully accepted her offer. Clara’s enthusiasm breathed new life into my project. Together, we spent hours sifting through old documents, photos, and memories, piecing together the story of the house and its significance.

Finally, with the house back in my name, I returned to the basement, key in hand. Moving aside an old wardrobe, I discovered a hidden door. The key fit perfectly. Behind the door was a small room, and in the center was a modest chest. My heart raced as I opened it, expecting treasure.

Instead, I found a letter in my grandfather’s familiar handwriting and an old poker chip.

The letter read: “I knew you would sell the house, you fool! I always taught you to honor your ancestors and remember your roots. Yet, you sold it off without a second thought. Let this be a lesson to you.”

At the bottom, in a playful tone, it said: “P.S. I put something in here, so here’s an old poker chip—worthless! Consider it a lucky charm.”

I sat there, the letter in hand, disappointed at first, but then understanding hit me. My grandfather, ever the trickster, had orchestrated this whole experience to teach me a valuable lesson. The house wasn’t just about property or money—it was about honoring the past and valuing what truly matters.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I decided to keep the house and turn it into a family retreat. What I once saw as a burden now felt like a treasure—a connection to my roots and a place where future memories would be made.

Over the months that followed, the house underwent a transformation. With Clara’s help, I restored it, blending its old charm with fresh beginnings. The house, once dilapidated, became a place of laughter and love—a symbol of family heritage.

As the final touches were added, Clara and I grew closer, spending more and more time together. The house wasn’t just a part of my past anymore—it had become a symbol of our future, a place filled with love, memories, and the lessons my grandfather had so cleverly imparted.

In the end, my grandfather had left me far more than a house. He’d left me a legacy, a lesson about family, roots, and the importance of holding on to the things that truly matter.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*