As if being cheated on wasn’t enough, my ex-boyfriend texted me out of the blue, making monetary demands! After I got over the shock, I devised a cunning plan that would be replicated down the line. I made him regret ever making the request!
A woman reacting in shock while looking at her phone | Source: Pexels
So, here’s the deal. My ex, Dan Brown, and I had been together for five years. Things were great until they weren’t. When we broke up because of his cheating, I thought that was the end of it. Boy, was I wrong!
What made me think we were all done was that we had no contact for a while. I believed he’d moved on with the woman he cheated on me with, but that wasn’t the case. A month after our breakup, Dan suddenly reappeared last week, daring to text me with a ludicrous demand!
A serious-looking man texting | Source: Pexels
When you hear what it was, you’ll also agree that his request was the pettiest, leading it to be almost comical! His message was him asking me to pay him back for every penny he ever spent on me. Seriously!?
Dan was asking for money for all the gifts he’d bought me for special days like my birthdays, Christmas, and New Year’s! That man had LITERALLY calculated every penny he’d spent, leading to a large sum!
A confused-looking woman looking at her phone | Source: Pexels
“You need to pay me back EACH and EVERY penny!” he demanded. He didn’t even bother greeting me before making demands! The nerve of this guy! At first, I was stunned! Who does that? But then, the more I thought about it, the more it made me laugh!
Instead of texting him and telling him how pathetic he was for making such a request, I chose to hold my tongue. I didn’t even brag to Dan about how the amount he wanted wasn’t more than what I had spent on HIM for those same days. After all, we had been together for long enough.
A woman giving a man a wrapped gift | Source: Pixabay
Initially, I asked him, “But throughout our relationship, you said I didn’t have to pay you back?” I was shocked when he replied, “It doesn’t matter. I need that money now, so hurry up.” I thought about ignoring him, but then a brilliantly mischievous plan started to form in my head.
I came up with a better plan to exact my revenge and decided to play along but with a twist! “Sure thing, Dan,” I texted back, “I’ll pay you back.” His response came within seconds, filled with self-righteous triumph:
“Good. I knew you’d come to your senses.”
A man texting | Source: Pexels
Little did he know, I had something else in mind. I set up a direct debit to send him ONE penny a day. One single, solitary penny. I remember the exact moment I hit the final confirmation button on my bank’s app.
My best friend, Emily, was sitting across from me at our favorite café. She was watching my every move with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “What are you doing?” she asked, leaning over the table. “I’m paying Dan back,” I said with a grin.
Two friends having beverages at a café | Source: Pixabay
Emily’s eyebrows shot up. “How?”
“One penny a day.” Her eyes widened, and then she burst out laughing. “No way! That’s genius!” We both laughed until tears streamed down our faces! Our laughter attracted a few curious glances from other patrons. But I didn’t care.
The most exciting part about this whole thing was that I had added the reference “cheating [expletive].” It showed up with each payment made daily. This was the best plan I’d ever come up with!
Two friends laughing at a café | Source: Pexels
A week later, Dan texted me again. “What the hell, Stacy? Why am I getting pennies from you?” I couldn’t help but laugh as I read his message. “I told you I’d pay you back,” I replied. “It’ll take a while, but you’ll get your money.”
He called me immediately, his voice boiling with anger. “This isn’t funny, Stacy! I want my money NOW!”
“Well, Dan,” I said calmly, “you’re getting it. One penny at a time.”
“Stop this nonsense right now!”
“Or what? You’ll take me to court? Go ahead.”
A woman smiling while talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
I figured from now on, he’d think about me daily for the next SEVEN years since he decided to mess with me! He hung up, and I felt a surge of satisfaction. Dan had always been controlling, always needing to have the upper hand. This was the first time I felt like I had the power, and it felt AMAZING!
Months went by, and the daily penny transfers continued. Emily and I would joke about it often, wondering how long it would take before my ex finally snapped. Every time I saw that single penny deducted from my account, it felt like a small victory!
A woman smiling while looking at her phone | Source: Pexels
One day, I got another message from Dan. But this time, it wasn’t filled with anger. “Please, Stacy. Just stop this. I get it. You win.” I thought about it for a while. He had been a jerk, but did I really want to keep this up forever?
I decided it was time to end the penny payments, but not without one final touch. I withdrew the remaining amount I owed him in pennies and nickels and placed them in a small box. It was a hefty little package. I decorated it with a nice bow and included a handwritten note:
“Here’s the rest of what I owe you. Have a nice life, Dan.”
Lots of coins on a table | Source: Pixabay
I mailed it to his apartment. The thought of him opening the box, finding hundreds of pennies and nickels, and realizing he’d lost his battle filled me with immense satisfaction. A few days later, I got a message from Dan. It read, “You’re insane.”
I showed it to Emily, and we laughed until our stomachs hurt! “You know, I think he’s finally realized he messed with the wrong person,” she said, still chuckling.
Two friends laughing | Source: Pexels
In the end, this little revenge plan wasn’t just about getting back at Dan. It was about reclaiming my sense of control and humor after a relationship that had taken so much out of me. And it worked. I felt lighter, freer, and ready to move on!
Months passed, and my ex faded into a distant memory. Life was good. Emily and I graduated, and we both landed jobs in the city. One evening, while we were out celebrating a promotion, Emily raised her glass and said:
“To the best revenge plot ever executed.”
Two friends celebrating with a toast | Source: Pexels
I raised mine too, happy to be honored. “To the best friend who helped me through it,” I replied, clinking my glass against hers. And just like that, Dan and his ridiculous demands were behind me. I learned that sometimes, the best way to handle pettiness is with a little bit of creativity and a whole lot of humor!
Years after my little revenge plot, I found myself telling the story to a new friend, Jenny. She had been going through a rough breakup. But she was sharp and had a knack for turning the tables in ANY situation.
Two friends talking while working | Source: Pexels
After hearing my story, Jenny smiled and said, “You know, that gives me an idea.” I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yeah. My ex, Jake, just demanded I pay HIM back for a trip we took together. I think I can take a page out of your book.”
A few weeks later, I got a call from her. “Remember how I said I had an idea?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I told Jake I’d pay him back, too. But I set up a monthly payment of ten cents! I even made it a direct debit from my account!”
Someone using their banking details for a transaction | Source: Pexels
I laughed, remembering my own scheme. “How’s he taking it?”
“He’s FURIOUS! Keeps texting me to stop, but I remind him I’m paying him back, just like he asked.”
“Sounds like you’ve got this under control,” I replied, laughing at her ex’s misery.
“Thanks to you,” Jenny said. “I don’t feel powerless anymore.”
Two women hugging | Source: Pexels
We chatted for a while longer, sharing stories and laughing about our past relationships. Jenny’s plan wasn’t just about revenge; it was about regaining power like I had. As we ended the call, I felt a sense of pride.
Not only had I managed to turn a ridiculous demand into a source of empowerment for myself, but I’d also inspired someone else to do the same. And that felt EVEN better than the revenge itself!
A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels
My Wife Delivered a Baby with Black Skin – Once I Learned the Reason, I Committed to Staying with Her Indefinitely
“You’re doing great, babe,” I whispered.
She shot me a quick smile, and then it was time. Time for everything we’d hoped for, worked for, to finally happen.
When the first cry pierced the air, I felt a rush of relief, pride, and love all tangled together. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until I let it out in a shaky exhale.
Stephanie reached out, eager to hold our baby, but as the nurse laid the tiny, squirming bundle into her arms, something in the room shifted.
Stephanie stared at the baby, her face draining of color, eyes wide with shock.
“That’s not my baby,” she gasped, the words catching in her throat. “That’s not my baby!”
I blinked, not understanding. “What do you mean? Steph, what are you talking about?”
She shook her head, even as the nurse explained that they hadn’t cut the umbilical cord yet, so this was definitely our baby. She looked like she wanted to shove it away.
“Brent, look!” Her voice was rising, panic seeping into every syllable. “She’s… she’s not… I never…”
I looked down at our baby and my world tilted. Dark skin, soft curls. I felt like the ground had just been ripped out from under me.
“What the hell, Stephanie?” I didn’t recognize my voice, sharp and accusing, slicing through the room.
The nurse flinched, and from the corner of my eye, I noticed our families, frozen in shock.
“It’s not mine!” Stephanie’s voice cracked as she looked at me, eyes brimming with tears. “It can’t be. I never slept with anyone else. Brent, you must believe me, I never—”
The tension in the room was suffocating, thick, and choking, as everyone quietly slipped away, leaving just the three of us. I should’ve stayed, but I couldn’t bear the betrayal.
“Brent, wait!” Stephanie’s voice rang out from behind me, broken and desperate, as I marched toward the door. “Please, don’t leave me. I swear to you, I’ve never been with anyone else. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved.”
The raw honesty in her voice made me stop. I turned to look at her. This was the woman I’d loved for years, the woman who had stood by me through every trial and heartbreak. Could she really be lying to me now?
“Steph,” I said, my voice softening despite the storm raging inside me. “This doesn’t make sense. How… how do you explain this?”
“I don’t understand it either, but please, Brent, you have to believe me.”
I looked back at the baby in her arms, and for the first time, really looked. The skin and hair were still a shock. But then I saw it: She had my eyes. And a dimple on her left cheek, just like me.
I closed the distance between us and reached out to cup Steph’s cheek. “I’m here. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not leaving you. We’ll figure this out together.”
She collapsed against me, sobbing, and I held my wife and my daughter as tightly as I could. I’m not sure how long we stayed like that, but eventually, Stephanie started to nod off. The long hours of labor and the stress of our baby’s shocking appearance had taken a toll on her.
I gently untangled myself from them and murmured, “I just need a minute. I’ll be right back.”
Stephanie looked up at me, her eyes puffy and red, and nodded. I knew she was scared I wouldn’t come back, but I couldn’t stay in that room any longer. Not with the way my mind was spinning.
I stepped out into the hallway, the door clicking softly behind me, and sucked in a deep breath, but it didn’t help. I needed more than just air. I needed answers, clarity, something to make sense of the chaos that had just torn through my life.
“Brent,” a voice called, sharp and familiar, breaking through my thoughts like a knife.
I looked up to see my mother standing near the window at the end of the hall, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her face was set in a hard, disapproving line, the kind that used to send shivers down my spine as a kid when I knew I’d messed up.
“Mom,” I greeted her, but my voice was flat, emotionless. I didn’t have the energy for whatever lecture she was about to deliver.
She didn’t waste any time. “Brent, you can’t stay with her after this. You saw the baby. That’s not your child. It can’t be.”
“She is my child, I’m sure of it. I—” My voice faltered because the truth was, I wasn’t entirely sure. Not yet. And that doubt… God, that doubt was eating me alive.
Mom moved closer, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t be naive, Brent. Stephanie has betrayed you, and you need to wake up to that fact. I know you love her, but you can’t ignore the truth.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Betrayed. I wanted to shout at my mother, to tell her she was wrong, but the words stuck in my throat. Because some small, cruel part of me was whispering that maybe she was right.
“Mom, I… I don’t know,” I admitted, feeling the ground start to slip away from beneath my feet. “I don’t know what to think right now.”
She softened, just a little, reaching out to touch my arm. “Brent, you need to leave her. You deserve better than this. She’s clearly not who you thought she was.”
I pulled away from her, shaking my head. “No, you don’t get it. This isn’t just about me. That’s my wife and daughter in there. I can’t just walk away.”
Mom gave me a pitying look. “Brent, sometimes you have to make hard decisions for your own good. You deserve the truth.”
I turned away from her. “Yeah, I do deserve the truth. But I’m not making any decisions until I have it. I’m going to get to the bottom of this, Mom. And whatever I find out, I’ll deal with it. But until then, I’m not giving up on Stephanie.”
She sighed, clearly dissatisfied with my response, but she didn’t push further. “Just be careful, Brent. Don’t let your love for her blind you to reality.”
With that, I turned and walked away. I couldn’t stand there and listen to any more of her doubts, not when I had so many of my own. I made my way down to the hospital’s genetics department, every step feeling heavier than the last.
By the time I reached the office, my heart was pounding in my chest, a relentless reminder of what was at stake.
The doctor was calm and professional, explaining the DNA test process as if it were just another routine test. But for me, it was anything but routine.
They took my blood, swabbed the inside of my cheek, and promised they’d have the results as soon as possible.
I spent those hours pacing the small waiting area, replaying everything in my head. I kept thinking about Stephanie’s face, the way she’d looked at me, so desperate for me to believe her.
And the baby with my eyes and my dimples. My heart clung to those details like they were a lifeline. But then I’d hear my mom’s voice in my head, telling me I was a fool for not seeing the truth.
Finally, the call came. I could barely hear the doctor’s voice over the roar of blood in my ears. But then the words cut through the noise: “The test confirms that you are the biological father.”
Relief hit me first, like a wave crashing over me, followed by guilt so sharp it made my breath catch. How could I have doubted her? How could I have let those seeds of suspicion take root in my mind?
But the doctor wasn’t finished.
She explained about recessive genes, about how traits from generations back could suddenly show up in a child. It made sense, scientifically, but it didn’t erase the shame I felt for not trusting Stephanie.
The truth was clear now, but it didn’t make me feel any less like an idiot. I had let doubt creep in, let it poison what should have been the happiest day of our lives.
I made my way back to the room, the results clutched in my hand like a lifeline.
When I opened the door, Stephanie looked up, her eyes filled with hope I didn’t deserve. I crossed the room in three quick strides and held out the paper to her.
Her hands trembled as she read, and then she broke down, tears of relief streaming down her face.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry I doubted you.”
She shook her head, pulling me close, our daughter nestled between us. “We’ll be okay now,” she said softly.
And as I held them both, I made a silent vow: no matter what came our way, no matter who tried to tear us apart, I would protect my family. This was my wife and my child, and I would never let doubt or judgment come between us again.
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