After years of a joyless marriage fueled by Mike’s obsession with wealth and status, Nicole decided to give him everything he wanted in the divorce — or so he thought.

As Mike reveled in his supposed “victory,” Nicole had the last laugh. Unknown to him, her plan was already set in motion.

Walking out of the lawyer’s office with her head down, shoulders slumped, Nicole looked the part of the beaten ex-wife. The rain poured down, adding a melancholic touch that matched the image she wanted to project. But as soon as the elevator doors closed, a smile crept onto her face, a laugh bubbling up.

By the time she reached the ground floor, she was almost giddy.

The past few weeks had been a quiet study in restraint. She’d let Mike think he was winning, that he’d secured everything of value — the house, the car, the savings. He wore his smug smile, certain he’d “outsmarted” her. And she let him think so. After all, she’d seen the endgame long before he had.

It all started one dreary Tuesday evening. Mike had returned home in a huff, tension radiating off him as he stormed into the kitchen. “We need to talk,” he said, voice tight. Nicole merely sighed, not even bothering to look up.

She’d been expecting this. When he finally said he wanted a divorce, she barely blinked. Her simple, “Okay,” visibly threw him off.

The negotiations were brutal, as expected. Mike laid claim to everything, leaving Nicole’s lawyer speechless when she agreed without a fight. When he triumphantly told her to be out by six, she had to hold back a smirk. He truly thought he’d won.

Fast forward to that evening. She had packed her things and was ready to leave, but before going, she made one final call. “Mom,” she said, keeping her voice even, “It’s time.” On the other end, her mother’s voice was filled with satisfaction.

This was the same woman who had helped fund the down payment on their house, under one condition: she could live there whenever she wanted.

Mike, eager to impress with the home’s grandeur, had signed without reading the fine print.

The next morning, in her cozy new apartment, Nicole’s phone buzzed. Mike’s name flashed on the screen, and she couldn’t help but grin as she answered. His voice was practically spitting fire. “Your mother! She’s in my house, taking over everything!”

“Oh, right,” Nicole replied casually, “You remember the agreement, don’t you? The one you signed about Mom’s lifetime residency?”

The line went silent, the realization sinking in. She could hear her mother’s voice in the background, already making herself comfortable: “Michael, get your feet off that coffee table, and stop hogging the remote!”

Nicole stifled a laugh, picturing Mike’s fuming face as he grappled with his new reality. Freedom had never felt so satisfying.