After a difficult marriage, Kelly and Peter got divorced. But Peter’s mom, Lorraine, couldn’t seem to let go. From tearing down wallpaper to taking an entire shower cabin, Lorraine kept pushing Kelly’s limits until she finally faced the consequences of her actions.
I’m Kelly, and I’ve been divorced from Peter for about six months. We were married for ten years. It wasn’t a perfect marriage, but it was my life.
Then I discovered his affair.
That was the breaking point, and everything fell apart. The divorce was messy and heartbreaking, but what made it worse was dealing with his mom, Lorraine, who was a total nightmare.
Lorraine never liked me. Even during our marriage, she made it clear I wasn’t good enough for her son.
“I’m just being honest, Kelly,” she’d say. “Peter is used to a certain lifestyle because of me. I taught him that only perfection matters. And you… well, let’s face it, you’re far from perfect.”
When Peter and I split, Lorraine went out of her way to help him get as much from me as possible. She wanted him to take my money, some property, and even my wedding jewelry. If it was valuable, she made sure I lost it.
I kept telling myself that once the divorce was final and Peter moved out, I’d finally have some peace.
But that peace didn’t last long.
One day, I got home early from work because I had a headache. All I wanted was to lie down, but I stopped in shock at my front door. There, in the hallway outside my apartment, was my shower cabin. It had a sticker on it that read “Peter’s Property.” I felt my heart drop.
What on earth was happening?
As I stepped inside my apartment, I was hit by dust and saw torn wallpaper. Half the walls were bare, and I heard a ripping noise down the hall. I walked in and saw Lorraine, my ex-mother-in-law, peeling off the wallpaper.
She was muttering about how she didn’t want to leave any “traces” of Peter’s work behind.
“What the hell, Lorraine?” I yelled, standing in the only untouched part of the house, the kitchen.
She looked up at me, not even startled.
“This is all his work,” she said in her usual rude tone. “He put up this wallpaper, so he’s taking it down. And the shower cabin? It’s coming with us. We’re not leaving anything behind for you.”
I couldn’t believe it. How low could they go? I was already emotionally drained from the divorce, and now this?
I felt helpless as I watched her rip apart my home, muttering that Peter wasn’t going to leave a single thing behind for me. She pulled down wallpaper and yanked at the shower frame, ignoring my pleas for her to stop. I was too tired to fight, so I just slumped on the couch, feeling numb.
The next day, Lorraine barged into my apartment again. This time, though, she wasn’t here to take anything. She was crying and begging for my help.
“Kelly,” she said, grabbing my arm. “Please, you have to help me. I’ll do anything. Just help him.”
I was confused. “Help who? What are you talking about?”
“Peter,” she sobbed. “He’s been in a terrible accident. He was drinking, and it’s really bad. He’s hurt. Please, you have to save him.”
A sharp pain shot through my chest. Peter, the man who had lied, cheated, and broken my heart, now needed my help?
A small voice inside me said I should help. But then I remembered all the pain he had caused me — all the lies and manipulation. He had destroyed my life, and now he was facing the consequences.
“I’m not helping Peter, Lorraine,” I said. “He made his choices, and now he’s paying the price. His drinking caused so many problems for us. You want me to get involved again?”
Her face twisted with anger, and she spat, “You’ll regret this, Kelly. You have no idea what you’re doing.”
I crossed my arms. “No, Lorraine, I think you’re the one who will regret it.”
Rumors about Peter’s accident spread quickly. He was lucky to be alive, but his recovery was rough. He had debts piling up, and it was clear he couldn’t charm his way out of this one. Despite everything, I went to see him at Lorraine’s house. I wasn’t there to help him, but I needed to see for myself.
“Kelly?” he said when he saw me. He was lying on the couch in a messy room filled with takeout containers and dirty dishes.
“I need help, Kelly,” he pleaded. “I need you to pay my hospital bills. They’re going to take my car!”
“Seriously, Peter?” I replied. “I came to see if you were okay, not to fix your problems. I’m not spending a dime on you.”
When I turned to leave, he shouted, “Then why did you even come here?”
I didn’t have an answer. I just knew it was a mistake. A week later, Lorraine showed up at my door again. This time, she wasn’t angry. She looked broken, like she’d aged years in just a few days.
“Kelly,” she whispered. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I came to apologize.”
I stayed quiet and put the kettle on, letting her speak.
“I was wrong about Peter,” she said, crying. “I thought I was helping him, but I only made things worse. He’s ruined everything, and now I see who he really is.”
Seeing Lorraine so defeated, I felt a strange mix of satisfaction and pity. She wasn’t just the bitter woman from the divorce. She was a mother who had been fooled by her own son’s lies, just like I had been.
Despite everything, I softened a bit. I invited her to stay for dinner before she went back to Peter. It was the least I could do.
Months later, I received a letter from Peter. It wasn’t an excuse, but an apology.
“Kelly, I’m sorry for everything,” it read. “I’m trying to figure out who I am without all the lies. I don’t expect forgiveness. I just wanted you to know.”
It was strange reading those words, but it brought me a sense of closure I didn’t think I’d ever
