When Jeremy and his wife, Nina, get home from a vacation, they are horrified to find Ted, Jeremy’s slob of a brother, in their home. After a confrontation which leads to angry parents and Nina moving out, Jeremy forces Ted’s hand, making him move out…
When I came home from vacation, I was expecting to relax, maybe pop open a bottle of wine with my wife, and enjoy the peace of our home. Instead, we walked into a living room that looked like a complete frat house after a party from Hell.
A couple on vacation | Source: Midjourney
There were beer cans everywhere, dirty clothes tossed in random piles, and the smell, my goodness, the smell. And there, sprawled out on my couch like he owned the place, was my older brother, Theodore, or Ted, as everyone called him.
“Ted, what the hell? What is this? Why are you in my house?” I asked, trying to stay calm, though my blood pressure was rising by the second.
Nina, my wife, looked around our living room and rolled her eyes. In that moment, I knew that I had to fix it or I’d have to deal with a very upset wife.
A messy living room | Source: Midjourney
My brother looked up, casually, like I hadn’t just caught him red-handed.
“Oh, hey, Jeremy,” he said. “Mom and Dad figured that it would be easier if I just moved in while you were gone. You’ve got all this space, and it’s not like you’re using it, you know? You and Nina are either working or on vacation.”
I blinked, trying to process the audacity of his words.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“You moved in? You moved into my house? Without asking? Ted, are you insane?”
He rolled his eyes, lifting his feet onto the couch and crossing them like he was about to watch a movie.
“Yeah, so what?” he said. “I needed a place to stay, and it’s not like you’d say yes. So, we decided to skip that part. Quit being so uptight, Jeremy. Just help a brother out.”
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
It was like a switch flipped inside me, the years of watching him leech off my parents, his life one big excuse after another, and somehow, he was the victim here.
Now, he’d taken over my house. Really?
Just as I opened my mouth to speak, my phone rang. Mom. Of course.
I answered, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible.
A man holding his phone | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, did you and Dad seriously let Theodore move into my house while I was away?”
“Why are you using my full name?” Ted chimed in from the background.
I ignored him.
“Jeremy, don’t be so dramatic,” my mother said, not even a hint of apology in her voice. “Ted needed a place to stay, and you’ve got all that room. You don’t even have kids yet. So what’s the harm in helping out your brother?”
An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.
“Mom, he is 42 years old. He isn’t a kid. You’ve let him mooch off you for years, and you want to dump him on me? Are you being serious? Why do you want to treat him like he’s a kid just out of college?”
My mother’s tone shifted, and she immediately went on the defense.
“Oh, mooching, huh?” she said. “I’m disappointed in you, Jeremy. He’s been through a lot. You don’t understand what it’s like to be him. You’ve always had everything together. Ted needs a little more help. And as family, you owe it to him.”
A frowning man | Source: Midjourney
Been through a lot? My brother had two children under the age of five, with two different women. And he didn’t bother to support either of them. How was I supposed to feel sorry for this man?
Before I could respond, my father took the phone, his voice taking over my ear, sounding even more irritated.
“Jeremy, stop being selfish. You’ve got the money, the house, the wife. What’s the big deal? It’s your job to take care of your family. Ted is your brother. He is staying.”
Two young children | Source: Midjourney
I almost lost my mind. I almost let my anger take over me. But then I remembered that it just wasn’t my style. Ted might’ve thought that he had won this time, but I had a plan.
“It’s not about the space, Dad,” I said. “It’s about respect. Ted can’t just live here without my permission. Nina and I have worked hard for our home. And what’s even worse? My wife just has to deal with this, too.”
From the couch, Ted snorted.
A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, come on. Don’t act like you’re all high and mighty. It’s just a house,” he said.
“But you’ve been freeloading off Mom and Dad for years. Why should I trust that you’d do anything differently here? Why can’t you stay with one of your kids and their mom?”
I thought that was the card that would have frustrated him. But he didn’t even flinch.
A frowning man | Source: Midjourney
“Because I’m family, that’s why. Why do you always act like I’m a stranger? It’s my right to stay here. Mom and Dad said that you’d be like this, but I didn’t think you’d be this bad.”
I was done.
“Fine, Ted,” I said. “You want to stay? Sure. Let’s see how that works out.”
I was fine with being horrible to my brother, I mean, someone had to teach him a lesson. But when I went upstairs to tell Nina about everything that had happened on the phone, she was highly frustrated.
A disgruntled man | Source: Midjourney
“Jer, you can’t be serious,” she said as I sat down on the bed across her.
“I’m going to fix it. I promise you, Nina. I’ll make this right. But I’m going to teach him a lesson first.”
“Well, I don’t want to be here for it. You have a week. Get him out, or I’ll stay gone,” she said.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney
“I’m going to my sister’s house, Jeremy. I can’t stand your brother, and I will not stay here while he’s here,” she said, packing a suitcase as she spoke.
“I’ll make this right, my love,” I promised her.
For the next week, I made Ted’s life a waking nightmare without ever raising my voice. And with Nina gone, I had a bigger incentive to get him out.
A woman packing a suitcase | Source: Midjourney
The first thing I did was disconnect the Wi-Fi. Ted, who spent most of his days glued to his phone or binge-watching shows on the TV, was completely lost.
He complained, but I just smiled.
“Oh, the internet? Yeah, it’s been spotty.”
Next, I shut off the hot water. Ted loved his long, lazy showers, but now he was greeted with ice-cold water every morning.
Water running in a shower | Source: Midjourney
“Must be something wrong with the plumbing,” I’d say innocently when he whined about it.
Then, there was the food.
I stocked the fridge with nothing but tofu, vegetables, and the healthiest food I could find. Ted hated anything that wasn’t greasy or fried. And now, every time he opened the fridge, he groaned like I was starving him.
“You’re family, right?” I’d say. “I’m sure you can deal with a little inconvenience. But it’s for my health, so you’ll be fine.”
An array of healthy food | Source: Midjourney
To top it all off, I started blasting music at 6 a.m. every day while I had my treadmill session in the gym room. I figured if Ted wasn’t going to contribute to the household, the least he could do was get up early.
He hated it all, of course. And by day five, he looked like he was on the verge of losing his mind.
“Jeremy, man, this is BS,” Ted said one morning, his voice filled with frustration. “I can’t stay here. How do you live like this? No Wi-Fi, no hot water, and no food I enjoy. This is torture.”
A man on a treadmill | Source: Midjourney
I raised an eyebrow.
“I thought you’d be grateful to stay, Ted. It’s not like you’re paying rent or contributing anything. What’s the problem?”
He grumbled something under his breath, clearly fuming.
“Forget it, I’m going back to Mom and Dad’s.”
An annoyed man | Source: Midjourney
As he stormed out, dragging his junk with him, I couldn’t help but smile.
But I wasn’t done yet. I cleaned the house top to bottom, went out to get proper groceries, and cooked Nina a good meal. I had already called her during the day and told her that Ted was gone.
“Come home, honey,” I said.
“I’ll see you later,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
While waiting for Nina to shower, I knew that there was just one more thing to do.
“Mom, Dad,” I said on the phone. “Ted’s out of my house. And he won’t be coming back again. He’s your problem again.”
My mother was furious.
“Jeremy, you can’t just kick him out! Where will he go?”
“That’s up to Ted, Mom. He’s 42. If you guys want to keep coddling him, go ahead. But I’m done.”
A man talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
After that, I heard that Ted moved back into my parents’ house, but they demanded that he transform the garage into his own space. They forced him to get a job.
Ted was upset, of course, so they blamed it all on me. But I was fine with that. Nina and I had our home back, and we were at peace.
A garage converted into a bedroom | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
My Husband ‘Accidentally’ Locked Me in the Basement to Watch Basketball with His Friends at Our House
Dani cannot stand her husband’s friends. So when Ethan brings up the possibility of having them over to watch a basketball game, she shuts down the idea. On the evening of the game, Dani finds herself going into the basement to get a pack of beer, but before she knows it, she’s locked inside. What happens next?…
I should have just said no from the start. Not just when Ethan brought up the idea of his friends coming over for dinner. I mean way before that, like when I first realized how awful they were. I never outright said that I didn’t hate them, but let me be honest with you: I think I made it pretty clear.
An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney
But my husband, Ethan?
He’s so different from these guys. At 35, he’s a successful manager at a tech company, and for reasons that I will never understand, he’s still friends with the same guys he went to high school with.
They’re loud, rude, and completely unlike Ethan. They’re everything he left behind when he made something of himself.
Except, apparently, his loyalty to them.
A man sitting in his office | Source: Midjourney
“Dani, it’s just one game,” he said that night, sitting in the kitchen with a hopeful grin. “The guys really want to watch the game here. They’re dying to see our new TV setup. It’ll be fun!”
I sighed, trying to stay calm. I could almost see the dreadful evening unfolding. I knew that Ethan’s friends would take over the house, inappropriate comments getting into every conversation.
“Ethan, you know how I feel about them. Every single time they come over, it’s like our house gets turned into a frat house. I’m not cleaning up after them again. It’s not happening.”
A man sitting at a kitchen counter | Source: Midjourney
My husband’s face dropped, a look of wounded pride flashing in his eyes.
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.
I Caught My Husband on Tinder and Messaged Him Using a Fake Account — He Thinks He’s Cheating, but It’s All Part of My Revenge Plan
Deception, betrayal, and a meticulously crafted plan for revenge are at the heart of my story. I thought I knew my husband until I stumbled upon his online escapades. Little did he know his secret affair was about to become the key to my liberation.
The day my friend sent me a link to my husband’s Tinder profile, I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Dexter, my husband of ten years, was out there pretending to be single, swiping left and right like a teenager. Fury, confusion, and betrayal hit me all at once.
As days went by, my anger turned cold and calculating. I knew I couldn’t just confront him and have a big fight. That wouldn’t solve anything, especially since I had no job and no source of income after years of taking care of the house and our kids.
I needed a plan. I decided to create a fake Tinder account using photos of a random woman. Let’s call her Leah. It was easy to set up, but finding Dexter’s profile took some time and a lot of nerves.
Finally, his profile came up, with him smiling that same smile that had once made me fall in love. I took a deep breath as I swiped right. Fortunately, we matched right away. GAME ON!
The first step was to build a connection. I knew everything about Dexter: his favorite movie (“The Godfather”), his favorite whiskey (Glenfiddich), and even his secret love for 80s pop music. Using Leah’s profile, I mirrored his interests and crafted a persona that would be irresistible to him.
I made sure to mention my love for “The Godfather” in my bio and put up a picture of Leah holding a glass of Glenfiddich. I knew exactly how to pull him in. We started chatting, and he took the bait. Our conversations were filled with flirty banter and deep talks about life.
“Wow, you love ‘The Godfather’ too?” Dexter messaged. “It’s my all-time favorite movie.”
I replied as Leah, “Yes, it’s a masterpiece! And Glenfiddich is my go-to drink while watching it. What about you?”
“Same here,” he wrote back. “Nothing beats a good movie and a great whiskey.”
He told Leah about his dreams and fears, things he hadn’t shared with me in years. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m stuck in a rut,” he confided one evening. “I have all these plans, but I can’t seem to make them happen.”
“I’m here for you,” I typed. “You can talk to me about anything.”
Every evening, I’d sit on the couch next to him, pretending to scroll through my phone while he texted Leah. It was surreal, living under the same roof and harboring so many secrets. I’d glance at him out of the corner of my eye, watching as he smiled at his phone, completely engrossed in his messages to Leah.
After a few weeks of daily chats, I knew he was hooked. It was time for phase two: gaining his trust. I started hinting at financial troubles, weaving tales of sudden car repairs and unexpected medical bills.
Over the next few days, I continued to spin stories of desperation to Dexter through Leah’s account. He was eager to help, wanting to be her knight in shining armor. It didn’t take long for him to start transferring money to the account I had set up.
“I don’t ever want you to feel alone, Leah. You can always count on me,” he texted Leah one day while sitting right next to me. “Remember, I’m only a message away.”
This Dexter that I had come to know as Leah was someone I didn’t recognize as Phoebe. It pained me to continue the game, but I knew I had to keep going.
Each sob story I fed him made him more determined to save this imaginary woman. Living this double life was exhausting but thrilling. Every day, I played the devoted wife, making breakfast for our kids and chatting with Dexter about his day at work.
Every night, I transformed into Leah, the damsel in distress who had him wrapped around her finger. “Dex, I don’t know how to thank you enough,” I texted. “You’ve been my rock through all of this.”
“I just want to see you happy,” he responded. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I watched as he fell deeper into the trap, blinded by his infatuation and guilt. He was constantly checking his phone, eager for Leah’s messages, completely unaware of the truth that lay just beneath the surface.
The third step was all about increasing the stakes. With his trust secured, I began to ask for larger amounts, weaving elaborate stories that played on his desire to be a hero. One evening, I texted him as Leah, “Dex, I don’t know what to do. My car broke down, and the repair costs are way more than I can afford. I’m so scared I’ll lose my job if I can’t get to work.”
He replied almost instantly, “Don’t worry, Leah. I’ll take care of it. How much do you need?”
“About $1,500,” I wrote back, holding my breath.
“Consider it done,” he replied, and minutes later, the money was in my account.
Each transaction brought me closer to my goal. I asked for help with rent and then “emergency” medical procedures for a sick family member. Dexter was more than willing to help, convinced he was the hero Leah needed. What he didn’t realize was that he was funding my escape.
While he was distracted by his affair, I meticulously planned my departure. I found a new place to live, made arrangements for the kids, and discreetly packed our essentials.
Every day, I gathered a little more evidence of his infidelity and financial transactions, making sure I had enough to protect myself if he tried to contest anything later. I took screenshots of our chats, saved copies of bank statements, and even recorded a few of our conversations where he talked about his “true feelings” for Leah.
“Leah, I feel like I can be honest with you,” he wrote one evening. “I’ve never felt this way before. You understand me in a way no one else does.”
“I’m glad you feel that way,” I replied, heart pounding. “I care about you a lot, Dex.”
“I care about you too,” he responded. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we could be together for real. I know it sounds crazy, but I think I might be falling for you.”
Reading his confession, I felt a mix of anger and satisfaction. I saved the conversation, knowing it would be crucial later. He had no idea that his heartfelt messages were sealing his fate.
The final step was to reveal my plan. I knew the perfect way to do it. I sent him a final message from the fake account, arranging a meet-up at a fancy restaurant.
“Dex, I feel like we’ve known each other forever. I think it’s time we finally meet in person. How about dinner at The Grand at 8 p.m. this Friday?”
He replied within seconds, “I’ve been waiting for this moment, Leah. I’ll be there.”
On the day of the meeting, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves. This was it.
I dressed in my best outfit, a simple yet elegant black dress that Dexter always said was his favorite. I wanted to look my best when I confronted him. I arrived at The Grand a bit early and took a seat at a quiet corner table where I could see the entrance clearly.
I ordered a glass of wine and sat there, watching the clock tick closer to 8 p.m. Finally, Dexter walked in, looking around eagerly. He was wearing the suit I had bought him for our anniversary a few years ago. He looked nervous but excited, completely unaware of what was about to happen.
As he scanned the room, I stood up and walked over to him. “Dexter,” I said, my voice steady.
He turned, his eyes widening in shock. “Phoebe? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I replied, holding up a folder. “But I think you know.”
He looked at the folder, confusion and panic mixing on his face. “What’s that?”
“Let’s sit down,” I suggested, guiding him to the table I had been sitting at. He followed, still looking dazed.
Once we were seated, I placed the folder in front of him. “Open it,” I said.
With shaking hands, he opened the folder and began to go through the contents. Inside were screenshots of our conversations, evidence of his infidelity, and a detailed list of all the money he had sent to Leah’s account—my account. His face turned pale as he realized he had been played.
“I knew all along,” I said calmly, watching him. “This was my way of getting back at you and securing my freedom. The money you sent to your ‘lover’ will help me and the kids start a new life away from you.”
He looked up at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and anger. “Phoebe, I can explain—”
“There’s nothing to explain,” I cut him off. “You betrayed me, Dexter. You made vows to me, and you broke them. Now, you’re going to face the consequences.”
He opened his mouth to argue but closed it again, realizing the evidence was undeniable. There was nothing he could say to make it better or take back what he had done.
I stood up, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “I’m leaving, Dexter. Don’t try to find us, and don’t think you can contest anything. I have all the evidence I need to make sure you don’t.”
He sat there, stunned, as I walked out of the restaurant. I felt a strange sense of satisfaction and freedom as I left him behind. That evening, I moved into our new home, taking the kids with me. The money I had accumulated ensured we were comfortable and had a fresh start.
The new place was cozy, nothing extravagant but perfect for us. The kids were a bit confused at first, but I explained it was a new adventure. They were excited about their new rooms, and I felt a sense of relief knowing we were safe and away from Dexter’s deceit.
Over the next few days, I settled into our new life. I enrolled the kids in a new school and started looking for a job. With the money Dexter had unwittingly provided, we were stable for the time being. I even found myself smiling more, feeling lighter than I had in years.
One evening, as I was tucking the kids into bed, my daughter looked up at me and said, “Mom, are we going to be okay?”
I smiled and kissed her forehead. “Yes, sweetheart. We’re going to be just fine.”
As I sat in the living room later, sipping a cup of tea, I reflected on everything that had happened. Revenge is best served cold, and Dexter learned that the hard way. He thought he was cheating, but he was just falling into my trap. Now, I am free, financially secure, and ready to move forward without him.
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