My Husband Dumped Me for His Mistress on Our 15th Anniversary and Got Exactly What He Deserved — Story of the Day

As I carefully set the last fork on the table, my heart fluttered with nervous anticipation. It was our 15th wedding anniversary, and I wanted everything to be perfect, just like it was on our first date.

Maybe tonight could change something between us. We had grown so distant lately, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were slowly drifting apart.

Todd had been complaining about me more often, saying I wasn’t doing enough, that I wasn’t the wife he had expected. Every word cut deep. We married young, both just 18, inseparable, each other’s first love. But now, routine had worn us down, and our love felt like a distant memory.

I glanced around the room, making sure everything was in place. The house was spotless, the dinner ready, and the candles flickered softly. Yet, despite all my efforts, a nagging voice reminded me of how much I had sacrificed for this life.

Todd convinced me to drop out of college and give up my dream of becoming a gymnast. I was talented—my coaches believed I had a real shot. But Todd had other plans. He wanted me to be a housewife, to manage everything while he built the farm he had always dreamed of.

We bought a big house with a large property, and Todd refused to hire help, saying he couldn’t trust anyone. So, the burden fell on me—taking care of the animals, tending the garden, cooking, cleaning. It was exhausting, but I did it all for him, for us.

No matter how hard I worked, it was never enough. Todd constantly compared me to his mother, saying she was the perfect homemaker, the standard I could never meet. It hurt more than I could admit, knowing I had given up so much, yet still wasn’t enough.

Finally, I heard the front door open and close. I rushed to greet Todd, but my excitement dimmed as soon as I saw him. He wasn’t holding any flowers. There was no smile, no sign that he remembered what today was.

“Hi, I made dinner and set the table,” I said, trying to hide my nerves.

Todd barely looked at me. “I already ate at work,” he replied, his voice cold. My heart sank—had he really forgotten?

“But… I thought we could have dinner together,” I started, but he cut me off before I could finish.

“Katie, I’m not in the mood for this right now,” Todd said, dropping his bag on the floor and rifling through it. “Oh, I almost forgot. This is for you,” he said, pulling out an envelope and thrusting it into my hand.

For a moment, my heart leaped with hope. Maybe he hadn’t forgotten after all. Was this the ticket to Italy I had dreamed of for so long? I followed him eagerly into the bedroom, my hands shaking as I opened the envelope.

But when I saw what was inside, my world crumbled. It wasn’t a ticket to Italy; it was divorce papers.

“What… what is this?” I stammered.

Todd didn’t even glance at me. “Are you that dumb? These are divorce papers. I’m divorcing you,” he said coldly as he opened the closet and started pulling out his suitcase.

“What? But why?” I asked, my mind reeling. This couldn’t be happening. Not after everything I had done for him, for us.

“Because you’re terrible, Katie,” he said bluntly, tossing clothes into the suitcase. “You do nothing. You’ve gained weight, and there’s nothing to talk about with you.”

I felt like I had been slapped. “Nothing to talk about? Todd, we’ve been together for 15 years! You can’t just—”

“I can, and I am,” he said, cutting me off again. “Besides, I met someone. Stephanie. She’s wonderful.”

“Stephanie? Your secretary? You’re leaving me for a girl ten years younger than you?!” I snapped.

“What did you expect? That I’d stay with you when you’re like this?”

“How dare you? What’s wrong with you?” I shouted, my voice breaking.

“Katie, there’s no need to throw a tantrum,” Todd said, zipping up his suitcase and heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” I demanded, following him, my heart pounding.

“Stephanie and I are going to Italy for two weeks, and I want you out of this house by the time I return,” he said, walking out before I could say anything more.

Anger burned inside me as I bolted out the front door, not caring about anything except confronting Todd. I spotted him across the street, his phone pressed to his ear, too absorbed in his conversation to notice anything around him.

I wanted to scream at him, to make him see the hurt he had caused. But before I could say anything, I saw it—a car speeding down the road, heading straight for him.

“Todd!” I yelled, but it was too late. The car hit him with a sickening thud, and Todd crumpled to the ground. The driver didn’t even stop—just sped away, disappearing into the night.

My anger vanished in an instant, replaced by cold fear. I ran to Todd, my heart pounding. He lay motionless on the pavement, unconscious. I fumbled for my phone, dialed 911 with shaking hands, and waited with him.

At the hospital, the doctor explained that Todd had a concussion but, miraculously, no other serious injuries. Relief washed over me, but it was quickly replaced by shock when the doctor added that Todd had lost his memory due to the concussion.

“It’s hard to say how long the amnesia will last,” the doctor said, his voice calm but serious. “He might recover his memory, or it could be gone for good. Only time will tell.”

As I sat in the waiting room, Todd’s phone buzzed nonstop in my bag. I pulled it out, seeing Stephanie’s name flash on the screen over and over again.

I felt a surge of bitterness and turned the phone off without hesitation. Taking a deep breath, I walked into Todd’s room, unsure of what I would find—or how I would handle it.

“Who are you?” Todd asked, his eyes filled with confusion.

For a moment, I hesitated, but then a plan formed in my mind. It was the perfect chance to get back at him. “I’m your boss,” I replied, keeping my voice steady. “You work for me. You take care of the animals, the gardens, all the housework, and cooking.”

He looked puzzled. “Do I have a family?” he asked, searching my face for answers.

I shook my head. “No, you were homeless until I hired you. You’re lucky to have this job.”

Todd seemed to accept this, though he looked unsure. “Thank you…” he said, his voice uncertain as he tried to remember my name.

“You can just call me ‘ma’am,’ ” I said, a small smile forming on my lips.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he repeated, his gratitude apparent.

When Todd was finally discharged from the hospital, I wasted no time putting him to work. I set him up in the small garage room, a far cry from the comfort he was used to.

It amused me to see him struggle with tasks that had always been mine. Todd, who had never lifted a finger in his life, was suddenly thrust into a world of manual labor.

Watching him stumble and fall into cow manure, chase after frantic chickens, and flee from angry geese was like a twisted comedy show. But to his credit, he never complained or stopped working.

He cleaned the house, scrubbed floors, and even cooked meals. I made sure to have him prepare healthy, low-calorie dishes for me, something I never had the energy to focus on before.

With Todd taking on all the chores, I finally had the time to sign up for the gym. I worked out regularly, determined to get back in shape. The pounds started to melt away, and as the weeks passed, I could see the results. I lost nearly 20 pounds and felt more confident than I had in years.

I started visiting beauty salons, getting my hair done, and treating myself to spa days. I began to look and feel as stunning as I did when we first met.

Despite how tough it was for him, Todd seemed grateful. He often thanked me for “saving him from a life on the streets,” completely unaware of the life he had before.

I kept all our relatives away, telling them Todd needed peace and quiet to recover. The only one who kept trying to reach him was Stephanie, but I had his phone, so she was no threat.

Two months went by, and Todd finally got the hang of things. He worked tirelessly while I lounged on the couch, sipping wine after a day at the gym, just like he used to.

I noticed him glancing at me occasionally, as if he was seeing me in a new light. I could tell he would do anything to be close to me. The tables had turned, and I relished every moment of it.

But one evening, everything changed. I was coming back from the gym, feeling good after another workout, when I saw her—Stephanie—standing outside, talking to Todd. My heart skipped a beat. Panic gripped me as I realized this could only mean one thing: Todd had remembered everything.

I froze, unsure of what to do, my mind racing. Then Todd turned and saw me. His eyes were filled with anger, a look I hadn’t seen in months. The fury in his gaze was unmistakable. My heart sank as I knew my plan had fallen apart.

“You witch!” Todd yelled, his face red with anger.

“You deserved all of this!” I shot back, my voice trembling with rage. “Did you really think you could leave me on our anniversary and get away with it? After everything I gave up for you?”

Todd’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to get out of my house right now!” he shouted as he stormed inside.

“This is our house!” I yelled, following him, refusing to back down.

Stephanie, standing by the door, smirked at me.

“This is all your fault!” I screamed at her, my fury boiling over.

Stephanie tilted her head and looked me up and down. “You’re not as awful as Todd said. You’re actually quite attractive,” she said, like she was doing me some kind of favor.

I heard Todd’s voice from the bedroom window. “She only looks like that now because I’ve been slaving away for ten!”

“I lived like that for 15 years! You jerk!” I shouted back, my voice raw with frustration.

Without warning, Todd began throwing my things out of the window. I watched in disbelief as my clothes, shoes, personal things—all went flying onto the lawn.

“What are you doing?!” I screamed, running to the pile of belongings. “Do you know how much all of this costs?!”

“I bought it all!” Todd yelled from above, his voice cold. I tried to get back into the house, but when I reached for the door, it was locked. The keys were in the lock from the inside, so I couldn’t open it with mine.

After he finished throwing everything out, Todd let Stephanie into the house. When I tried to push my way inside, he shoved me back hard, and I fell to the ground.

“You have no right! This is my house!” I shouted, my voice shaking with anger and hurt.

“There’s nothing of yours here!” Todd yelled through the window, his tone final and unforgiving.

I stood up slowly, gathering my things from the ground, my mind racing. I knew I would be back, and this time I wouldn’t be alone.

There was one little detail Todd didn’t know about, and it was going to change everything. I took what I could carry to a friend’s house and stayed there for the night, planning my next move.

The next morning, I stood outside the house, my heart pounding with anticipation. The police officers beside me knocked firmly on the door.

I could hear movement inside, and after what felt like forever, Todd appeared in the doorway, looking groggy and confused. His eyes narrowed when he saw the police and then settled on me with a glare.

“What’s this about?” he demanded, rubbing his eyes. “This is my house!”

One of the officers stepped forward, holding up the eviction order. “Sir, we have an eviction order. You are living in someone else’s house. If you refuse to leave, we will have to arrest you.”

Todd’s face twisted in anger. “What nonsense are you talking about? This is my house! I’ve lived here for years!”

The officer handed him the documents that proved otherwise—proof that I was the rightful owner, along with the divorce papers I had signed and notarized while Todd was in the hospital. “According to these documents, the house belongs to her,” the officer said, pointing to me.

Todd’s eyes scanned the papers, his anger growing with each word. “I gave you the papers to sign over the property years ago!” he shouted, his face flushed with frustration.

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Oops, I guess I forgot to sign them because I’m so dumb,” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re a damn witch!” Todd yelled, his fists clenched in fury.

But under the watchful eyes of the police, he and Stephanie had no choice. They gathered their things, mumbling angrily as they left the house. I stood on the porch, waving and smiling as they walked away. Watching them disappear down the road felt like justice. Serves you right, jerk!