When Alice ended her ten-year marriage to Mike, she expected heartache. She expected awkward co-parenting, maybe even some cold silences at school events.
What she didn’t expect was what came next: pettiness, to a degree that bordered on absurd.
Mike, furious and hurt, didn’t just walk out—he stripped their family home on his way out. If he paid for it, it went with him. He took the blender, the beanbags the kids used for movie night, the curtain rods, the bath mats, the toaster, and even the shower curtain rings. Then he went one step further.
He took the front door. Yes, the literal door. And not just that—he unscrewed every door handle in the house.
To Alice, it felt like he was trying to erase every part of their shared life together—one screw at a time.
But Alice didn’t fight. She didn’t yell or text angry paragraphs. She chose silence instead. She chose grace over revenge—for her two children, who needed peace more than furniture.
Three days later, peace found her. And so did poetic justice.
Mike called her in a panic.
While trying to install the same door handles in his mother’s guest room, where he was now staying, he’d done the job in such a rush that he didn’t notice something important: they locked automatically from the outside.
The next morning, while preparing for an important job interview, he stepped into the guest room to grab his tie—and closed the door behind him.
Click.
Locked.
His phone charger was dead. His mother was gone. The room had no key.
He was trapped. Alone. Powerless. And very, very late.
Alice never gloated. But somewhere deep inside, she couldn’t help but smile.
Because sometimes, when you try to take everything…
life has a funny way of giving you exactly what you deserve.