I was preparing my table for the new workday, carefully arranging my tools and bottles of nail polish. I have been working as a manicurist for seven years now, and as strange as it may sound, I love my job.

The soft hum of the salon, the smell of nail polish, and the chatter of clients all made me feel at home. Some people think it’s not prestigious enough, but I do what I love, and it brings me good money, so I see nothing wrong with it. As I placed the last bottle in its spot, I smiled, ready to make someone’s day a little brighter.

“Ellie, do you remember you have a new client today?” Stacy asked as she walked over to my table. Stacy was our administrator and had to oversee the workflow, but she was always so anxious and double-checked everything multiple times.

“Yes, Stacy, you’re telling me this for the second time today,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light. “And you told me three times yesterday.”

“I know, but you didn’t have new clients in a long time, so I’m worried that this woman will like everything,” Stacy said, her brow furrowed with concern.

“Everything will be fine, Stacy. You don’t need to keep reminding me about it,” I reassured her, giving her a small smile.

“So, what’s her name?” she asked, still hovering near my table.

“Um…” I hesitated, racking my brain. I swear I remembered the name this morning.

“That’s why I remind you. Her name is Madison,” Stacy said, crossing her arms.

“Right, Madison. I remembered,” I said quickly, nodding.

“Uh-huh,” Stacy replied, giving me a look that said she wasn’t entirely convinced. She then walked off to check on the other girls, probably to repeat her reminders.

I took a deep breath and focused back on my work, confident that everything would go smoothly with Madison, despite Stacy’s worries. I finished preparing my workstation and waited for the client. Madison arrived ten minutes late, but I wasn’t mad since this was normal; most girls were late.

When she walked in, I noticed right away that Madison was a very attractive young woman, probably about ten years younger than me. She had a bright smile and a friendly demeanor.

“Hi, I’m Madison. Sorry for being late,” she said, sitting down.

“No worries. Let’s get started,” I replied with a smile.

As I began working on her nails, Madison chatted happily. She told me about her boyfriend and how she thought he was going to propose to her today.

“I’m so excited,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I think he’s going to pop the question at dinner tonight.”

“That sounds wonderful,” I said, genuinely happy for her. “Do you have any special plans for the evening?”

“Yes, we’re going to this fancy restaurant downtown. I can’t wait!” Madison gushed.

I listened and nodded, enjoying her excitement. It was nice to see someone so happy and in love.

“What’s the lucky guy’s name?” I asked, looking up from her nails.

“Matthew,” Madison replied with a smile.

“You won’t believe it, but my husband’s name is Matthew too,” I said. “And today is our anniversary.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Madison said, her eyes widening. “I’ll take it as a sign.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed, nodding. “It must be a good omen for you.”

Madison grinned. “I hope so. It feels like everything is falling into place.”

I smiled back, enjoying this little moment of connection. It felt nice to share something personal with her.

“I really hope everything works out. I love him so much; he always makes me laugh. And he’s so clumsy, all because he once broke his arm and now drops everything,” Madison continued, laughing.

I tensed up a bit. Could there really be such coincidences? “My husband is like that too, also because of a fracture. He always drops things. It must be the curse of the name Matthew,” I said, trying to hide my growing anxiety.

“It seems so. He even has a scar because of his clumsiness. I don’t remember how he got it, but the scar is almost half his leg.”

This only increased my anxiety, as my Matthew also has a large scar on his leg. I decided not to say anything, just smiled at Madison and continued my work.

After I finished Madison’s manicure, I smiled and said, “All done! I hope you have a wonderful evening.”

“Thank you, Ellie. I’m sure I will,” Madison replied, beaming. “Wish me luck!”

“Good luck, Madison,” I said as she left. I felt happy for her, but a strange feeling nagged at me. I picked up my phone to tell my husband about the funny coincidence, but instead, I saw a message from him: “Don’t wait for me for dinner tonight. I’ll be late. Lots of work,” Matthew wrote.

A lump formed in my throat. Could this not be a coincidence? I decided to check for myself since Madison mentioned which restaurant she was going to with her boyfriend. I hoped it was just my anxious imagination and that I would see Madison with some other Matthew at the restaurant.

After work, I drove to the restaurant, my heart pounding. I walked inside, scanning the room. And then, I saw them. Sitting at a table, laughing and holding hands, were Madison and MY HUSBAND. My heart sank, and anger bubbled up inside me. How could he do this to me?! And on our anniversary!

I marched up to their table, my hands shaking. Matthew turned pale when he saw me, and Madison just smiled, oblivious.

“Ellie! What are you doing here?” Madison asked, looking shocked. “This is my boyfriend, Matthew, whom I told you about today.”

“Yes, I know,” I replied, my voice shaking with anger.

Matthew’s eyes widened. “You… you… know each other?” he stammered.

“Yes, jerk. Your GIRLFRIEND came to me for a manicure today!” I shouted, feeling my face flush with rage.

Madison looked confused. “What’s going on? Why are you talking to him like that?”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Because your boyfriend is my husband!” I yelled, my voice echoing in the restaurant.

Madison’s face turned pale. “Oh… Matthew, I didn’t know SHE was your wife,” she said, her voice trembling.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “You don’t sound very surprised.”

Madison looked down, avoiding my gaze. “I knew Matthew had a wife, but he promised to leave her,” she admitted quietly.

Matthew finally found his voice. “Yes, I’ve wanted to divorce you for a long time, Ellie. I’m tired of you,” he said coldly. “And now you know everything, so tomorrow I’ll bring a lawyer, and we’ll get a divorce.”

I was speechless for a moment, my mind racing. “You… you…” I couldn’t think of any name to call him because there weren’t words strong enough.

My eyes fell on the glass of red wine in front of him. Without thinking, I grabbed it and threw it in his face.

The restaurant went silent as everyone stared at us. Matthew sputtered, wiping wine from his face, but I didn’t wait to hear what he had to say.

I turned around and walked out of the restaurant, my head held high, tears stinging my eyes. As I left, I heard Matthew shouting behind me, but I didn’t look back.

I cried all night on the couch because I couldn’t sleep in the bed where Matthew had fun with HER. My tears soaked the pillow, and my mind replayed the scene at the restaurant over and over.

I couldn’t believe he did this to me. We had been together for 12 years, and he dumped me right on our anniversary. The pain was unbearable. How could he betray me like that?

The only thing that comforted me was that he didn’t come home. I couldn’t bear his presence. The house felt empty and cold, but at least I didn’t have to see his face. I thought I had a bit of peace, but I celebrated too soon.

The next morning, I heard a knock on the door. My heart sank when I saw Matthew standing there with a lawyer. My stomach churned with dread. The lawyer had a smug look, and I knew this was going to be bad.

“Ellison, do you agree that the entire house will go to Matthew?” the lawyer asked, looking at me with no emotion.

“What? Why? We both invested in this house!” I said, my voice shaking with anger.

“Yes, but the house belongs to Matthew and was bought before you got married,” the lawyer replied, his tone calm and firm.

“But we bought it together!” I shouted, feeling tears well up in my eyes.

“I understand, but the law is the law,” the lawyer said, not budging an inch.

Matthew sat there with a smug smile, enjoying my pain. “You can buy it from me,” he said, leaning back in his chair. When he named the amount, I felt my blood boil.

“That’s three times more than we paid for it!” I snapped at him, my hands clenched into fists.

“Well, then you’ll be out on the street,” he said, his voice dripping with cruelty.

“I won’t sign the divorce papers!” I screamed, feeling a surge of defiance.

“If you don’t sign them now, I’ll make sure you end up with nothing,” Matthew said coldly. “And believe me, I can do it.” His eyes were hard and merciless. I knew he was telling the truth. He had many influential friends and could easily make me homeless. I felt trapped and defeated.

So, with no choice left, I signed the divorce papers. My hand trembled as I scribbled my name, and my heart ached with each stroke of the pen.

When Matthew and the lawyer were leaving, Matthew turned to me, his face a mask of satisfaction.

“You have two days to pack your things and leave. If you’re still here in two days, I’ll call the police,” he said, his voice flat and final.

“Go to hell!” I shouted, slamming the door in his face.

As soon as the door closed, tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t believe I had been married to such a cynical monster! I collapsed onto the couch, my body shaking with sobs.

The only thing that comforted me was that we didn’t have children. But still, I had wasted 12 years of my life on this jerk, and now he was throwing me out on the street like a dog.

As I sat there, the anger began to replace my sadness. I decided I wouldn’t leave him with anything. I would take everything, even the groceries I bought.

I walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer. My eyes landed on the seafood. I remembered how much Matthew hated it, and suddenly, an idea came to mind about how I could get back at him.

I took out all the frozen seafood and all the canned fish we had. I carefully placed them all over the house: in the couch cushions, under the mattress, even sewed some into the curtains. It took hours, but I didn’t care.

Considering it was a hot summer, in two days, the house would smell so bad that it would be impossible to live there.

I packed all my things, stuffing clothes and personal items into suitcases. I made sure to take everything I had ever bought, leaving nothing behind.

The house looked empty and sad when I was done, but I felt a strange sense of satisfaction.

I went to a hotel and checked in, the receptionist gave me a sympathetic smile as I wiped away the last of my tears.

Once I was in my room, I took out my phone and texted Matthew: “I’ve moved out. Enjoy the house.” I knew he wouldn’t understand the full meaning of my message until it was too late.

I lay down on the bed, exhausted but relieved. I felt a small spark of hope. I didn’t know what the future held, but I knew one thing: I was free from Matthew, and I would never let anyone treat me like that again.

As I expected, the result of my revenge didn’t take long. Just three days later, Matthew called me on my work phone since I had blocked his number on my personal phone.

His voice was desperate, almost pleading. “Ellie, please, we need to talk,” he said, his tone a stark contrast to his usual arrogance.

“What do you want, Matthew?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I want to sell the house back to you,” he said quickly. “Madison and I are looking at a new place, and we need to sell this one fast.”

I almost laughed at his lie. I knew the real reason. The house must have become unbearable with the stench of rotting seafood. “How much?” I asked, feigning disinterest.

He named a price so low it was laughable, cheaper than what we had paid ten years ago. “Fine,” I said, pretending to think it over. “I’ll buy it.”

The next day, we met to transfer the house to me. Matthew looked haggard and worn out, and when he handed over the keys, he practically threw them at me. He fled as quickly as he could, not wanting to stay a second longer.

I walked into the house and was hit by the horrible smell. It was worse than I had imagined, but I knew how to fix it.

I threw out all the furniture and curtains where I had hidden the seafood. I opened all the windows and scrubbed every surface. Within a day, the smell was gone, and the house felt like mine again.

Later, I found out from another client that Madison had dumped Matthew. Knowing that gave me a sense of closure. I had taken back my home and my dignity.

The experience had made me stronger, and I knew I would never let anyone take advantage of me again. I stood in my clean, fresh-smelling house and felt a new sense of hope and freedom.