I just came home from work, I was silly to see my husband’s ex-wife cooking in the apron in her house – the truth behind the keys made me plan a vengeance!

As soon as I got home from work, I felt the delicious smell of food pervading the kitchen. The rice and soup on the table were neatly arranged, strangely beautiful. I smiled, my heart pounding, wondering: “Since when did my husband learn to cook?”

But seconds later, I was speechless when the woman came out of the kitchen. He is no one else… She was my husband’s ex-wife.

She was as calm as if it were her own home, still wearing an apron, comfortably chatting and laughing with her son.

I was stunned, trying to stay calm and asking:
— Why did you come into my house without permission?

She just smiled slightly and replied calmly:
— Your husband gave me the key. He told me that I can come back if I want, there is nothing to be ashamed of.

I was shocked.

Soon after, my husband came home. I asked,
“Why did you give your ex-wife the key?”

He – Rajesh – replied calmly:
— He has given money to buy this house, so he is right. Don’t be so selfish. You don’t know how to cook for me, and you’re making trouble!

A sense of betrayal and contempt welled up within me, choked up. I was speechless. That night, I packed my things and went back to my mother’s house in Kanpur.

But they were wrong… I won’t let it go easily. In my mind at the time, a subtle and unexpected plan of revenge was beginning to form.

The past seemed buried.

I married Rajesh about two years ago. In my eyes at the time, he was a calm, thoughtful, caring, and devoted person to his family. He worked as a software engineer in a large company in Lucknow, often busy with technical projects and lengthy meetings.

I – Ananya – didn’t work in the tech industry, just an ordinary office worker. I accepted my husband’s job, and never asked much about his past, except knowing that he had a wife – Priya – and a seven-year-old son, Amit.

I was never jealous of my husband’s past. I respected the father-son relationship between Rajesh and Amit. Although she wasn’t my biological mother, I tried to love and care for her like my own son. On weekends, I would take Amit to the park, buy him books and teach him English. Sometimes Amit would call me “Maa Ananya”, and my heart would rejoice.

I felt that I had done the right thing, completing a family that was once lacking.

By that rainy evening…

challenge

When I asked him, Rajesh said:

— You’re exaggerating. It’s not just your house. Priya has given the money, so she has the right to come and go.

I choked up. Rajesh had said that this house was bought with a bank loan and his parents helped him. He never said that “his ex-wife gave the money”. Now, his words were like a slap in the face, as if I were a tenant and Priya mistress.

I smiled lightly. No arguments, no quarrels. I walked away on a rainy night.

My mother looked at me and just poured a cup of hot tea. I sat quietly, drinking my anger. But in that anger, a plan was made: I won’t cry, I’ll make them reconsider their decisions.

Real Mistress

Three days later, I didn’t call or text. They didn’t even find me.

Instead of asking myself, “Why did they do this to me?”, I thought, “What am I going to do now?”

I changed: I cut my hair, took care of my skin, bought some new sarees and salwars. Not to “take revenge beautifully,” but to remind myself that I am not a weak wife waiting for mercy.

I picked up Amit from school. He ran and hugged me tightly:

“Mom, where have you been all these days?” I miss you very much!

My heart sank. I realized: I wasn’t fighting for a man, I just didn’t want an innocent child to fall prey to a grown-up’s power play.

I took Amit out to feed him ice cream and then returned home. I rang the doorbell myself. Rajesh opened the door in confusion when he saw me. Priya was still standing in the kitchen wearing an apron.

I calmly said:
— I’ll take Amit home. From now on, if I want to take the baby somewhere for a few days, don’t stop me. If she has the right to come here, then I also have the right to be Amit’s mother.

Rajesh remained silent. I turned away and walked away, leaving him in a dilemma.

Unexpected Moves

The next day, I filed a petition in court for partition of the property. If this house had my ex-wife’s capital, the law would have cleared it. It’s no longer a “I don’t matter” thing.

Rajesh’s message came:

“Ananya, you’re moving too far. It is a family matter, no need to go to court. ”

I didn’t respond.

I arranged to meet Priya at a small café. He looked at me carefully. I smiled:
You’re a good cook. Amit likes it very much. I also thank you. But let us be clear. That house is no longer a place where you can go at will. If you want to meet Amit, I won’t stop you. But if you continue to interfere in my marriage, I will falter until I die.

Priya remained silent. For the first time I saw his eyes wobble.

A week later, Priya returned the key. Without saying a word.

Rajesh started trying to reconcile. He apologized, agreed to change the locks, agreed to marriage counseling. Although he was hesitant, there was no way for him to return.

Three months later, I returned home. No more beloved, no strange keys. Rajesh had changed a bit, had learned to listen, had learned to be humble.

result

I wasn’t sure this marriage would last. But I knew that if I didn’t stand up, if I didn’t draw clear boundaries, I would be lost in someone else’s life.

Sometimes, revenge doesn’t need tears or cruelty. You just need to know your worth and force others to show it.

My story is not a triumph, but a choice: the choice to live as a woman of value, even in the midst of a prejudiced Indian society.