digan, oblivious to the fire she had just ignited.

“So,” she continued, smiling like she had solved a great dilemma, “we think it’s best for you to take a step back from your job and get some real-life experience in running a household.”

“Yeah,” Ethan added.

“You can help Mom. She’ll even pay you—if you do it right.”

Oh.

So that was the game.

They thought my income was just “extra.” That my job was optional. That they could replace it with a pathetic allowance while I scrubbed their floors.

I let out a slow breath, tilting my head as if considering their generous offer.

Then, I smiled.

Sweet. Agreeable. The way they liked me.

“You’re absolutely right,” I said, my voice light.

“I should quit my job.”

Diane beamed. “That’s wonderful!”

“I’m so proud of you, Soph!” Ethan cheered.

Neither of them realized they had just walked into their own personal nightmare.

The next morning, I followed their plan to the letter.

I informed my boss that I’d be taking an extended leave and assured Ethan that I was fully committed to my new role as Diane’s full-time housekeeper.

And just as they wanted, I completely cut off my financial support.

At first, they didn’t notice. Diane was too busy basking in the luxury of having me at her beck and call.

Meanwhile, Ethan enjoyed the attention his mother received at my expense.

But then, reality hit.

Diane’s weekly spa appointments? Canceled.

Her favorite high-end beauty treatments? Gone.

The expensive organic groceries I used to buy?

Replaced with the cheapest store-brand items.

No more imported coffee. No more aged cheeses or artisan bread. Just plain oatmeal, bulk rice, and whatever was on sale.

Ethan’s monthly wardrobe upgrades?

No budget for that anymore.

Weekend getaways? Not happening.

I watched, amused, as the inconveniences piled up.

One evening, Ethan sat at the dining table, his eyes glued to his bank statement. His fingers tapped against the paper.

“I don’t understand,” he muttered.

“We never had money problems before.”

I gave him a sweet smile. “Oh, that’s because I was the breadwinner.”

Diane, sitting across from him, paled. “What do you mean?”

I leaned back, folding my arms.

“I mean all of those things including the spa trips, the shopping, the fancy meals, and the little ‘extras’ that made life so comfortable? I paid for those.”

Diane’s mouth opened, then closed. “But… but we always had enough.”

I nodded.

“Yes. Because I was earning. But now?

Since I don’t have an income anymore, well… we all have to make sacrifices.”

“This isn’t sustainable,” Ethan blurted out. “This… this isn’t going to work.”

I shrugged. “Guess you should’ve thought about that before you told me to quit.”

Diane’s lips pressed together, her perfect little world cracking at the edges.

But I was having the time of my life.

I let the suffering go on for a full month.

Just long enough for them to feel it. For them to truly understand what they had taken for granted.

Then, one evening, as Ethan sulked over yet another budget-friendly meal, I stretched my arms and let out a satisfied sigh.

“Good news,” I said brightly. “I do miss working.

So I’ll be going back.”

The look of relief on his face was priceless.

But before he could say anything, I added, “Oh, and while I’m at it… I’ll also be filing for divorce.”

Silence.

Diane gasped. Ethan stiffened. And I smiled as their world collapsed in real time.

Soon, the divorce was finalized, and I finally got to live in my house all by myself.

Ethan tried asking me for forgiveness, but I was done. I couldn’t let him allow his mother to control our lives. To control my life.

To tell me that I’d better work as a full-time maid for her.

And that accusation about me cheating while I was at work? That was the final straw. That’s what made me leave Ethan.

What would you have done if you were in my place?

Source: amomama