I paid for every bill, every grocery, while my husband swore he was saving for our dream. But week after week, the fridge I filled kept emptying, and I had to uncover who was living off my hard-earned money.
One year into our marriage, I realized I’d married a man who could pinch pennies until they screamed. And not in a clever way.
At first, the change was quiet. Jaden gradually stopped pitching in for anything at home.
One day, he just announced, “I’m saving for something huge. For us.”
I paid the bills.
I bought the groceries.
I stocked toilet paper, soap, air fresheners, garbage bags—you name it.
Jaden always had a reason to keep his wallet locked tight.
“You’re the queen of this house,” he’d say with a sly wink. “You handle the daily grind. I’m planning our big future. Our dream.”
So I did. I managed everything. But Jaden still had demands.
He wanted the finest.
The $14 artisanal cheese.
Anchovies “for that zing” in his salads.
And don’t forget the almond milk yogurt—regular stuff messed with Jaden’s stomach.
I didn’t complain, honestly. I earned enough, and I wanted to keep my husband happy.
But then something felt… off.
I opened the fridge to grab the cranberry sauce I’d bought two days ago for a roast chicken dinner I’d planned. Vanished.
“Jaden?” I called into the living room. “Did you take the cranberry sauce?”
He didn’t glance up from his phone.
“Oh, I thought it was jelly. I gave it to a stray dog by the garage.”
“A dog? You gave a jar labeled ‘cranberry’ to a dog?”
Jaden shrugged. “It looked starved.”
That could’ve been the end, but it wasn’t just the cranberry sauce.
Fresh fruit disappeared.
A pack of premium steaks.
A box of organic strawberries.
My lactose-free yogurt.
All gone.
When I asked, Jaden flashed a saintly smile. “There’s a homeless guy I’ve been helping out. And I dropped some stuff at a shelter, too.”
“But what are we supposed to eat?”
“You’ll pick up more next trip, babe. Just shop a bit sooner this week.”
“You could shop for the shelter yourself. I’m already covering everything for us.”
“Honey, you know I’m saving for our dream.”
“Our dream?” I snapped, bitterness seeping through. “My dream is to buy a new dress after three years of scraping by.”
Jaden chuckled, like I was being funny. I wasn’t.
A week later, I went to do laundry. The eco-friendly detergent I’d bought days ago was nearly gone. I stared at the bottle, floored.
“Jaden!” I yelled from the laundry room.
“What’s the problem now?” he asked, sauntering in, still munching from dinner.
“Where’s the detergent?”
“Oh, that! I gave some to the shelter.”
I glared. “And my new aromatherapy diffusers for the living room?”
“Sweetheart, you’ve never been greedy,” he said. “Are we really bickering over tiny stuff?”
“Tiny stuff?” I fired back. “Those ‘tiny things’ cost money!”
That was it. Something broke inside me.
Jaden’s stories about strays and shelters… they didn’t hold water. None of it did.
I was done being played.
I had to find out who was eating my groceries.
The next morning, I did a massive grocery haul.
I stocked up: fresh berries, grass-fed steaks, my lactose-free yogurts, eco-friendly soaps, and the fancy balsamic vinegar Jaden loved to splash on everything.
I was drained, my arms sore, my bank account hurting, but the fridge was packed. Or so I thought.
I walked into the house, two bags still in hand, and stopped dead.
In the driveway, shining like a prize, was a brand-new midnight-blue sports car. Sleek. Flashy. Insanely expensive.
“What is that?” I demanded, my voice sharp.
Jaden strolled out from the garage, keys spinning on his finger like a showboat.
“Surprise, baby! I pulled it off.”
“You… bought a car? Wow, our car!” I forced a smile, stunned. “We can finally go on trips!”
Jaden laughed, then dropped the hammer.
“Not exactly our car. I bought it. It’s in my name. But don’t worry, babe, I’ll give you rides.”
My smile crashed. “What?”
“You can’t just drive it anytime,” he said. “It’s a performance car. Finicky. High-maintenance. You understand.”
I stood there, gripping the groceries I paid for, while he admired his reflection in the hood. Something inside me went dark.
He bought himself a car with money he refused to spend on butter, while I juggled pennies at the store to afford trash bags.
The man who claimed he was “saving for our dream.”
I couldn’t let that slide.
Days later, I heard the fridge door open at 6:00 a.m. I stayed in bed, still, silent. I knew what Jaden was up to.
He was whispering. Plastic bags crinkled. The fridge shelves groaned. Then the door clicked shut, and the garage door rumbled open.
I crept out of bed and slipped into the kitchen. Of course.
Half the food was gone. Not leftovers or old stuff—Jaden took the freshest items. The strawberries, the organic eggs. On the counter was a half-written grocery list. I snatched it up.
Neat handwriting. Feminine curve.
And oh no… I knew that handwriting.
My heart plummeted. My mind screamed to reject it. But my gut churned. I threw on a jacket, grabbed my keys, and followed my husband.
I didn’t have to tail him long. Fifteen minutes later, Jaden parked in front of Melanie’s house.
My mother-in-law’s house. I knew she was the culprit.
From my car, I watched Jaden unload the bags, ring her doorbell, and flash a grin like a delivery boy. Melanie opened the door in her robe, grabbed the groceries like they were her birthright, and kissed his cheek.
I slammed my car door and stormed toward them.
“Well, well,” I said. “So this is the shelter, huh?”
They both jumped. Jaden went pale. Melanie’s eyes sharpened.
“Look who finally wised up,” she taunted.
“You’ve been stealing everything I buy for your little hoard?” I hissed. “Really?”
“I raised a son who knows how to care for his mother,” Melanie said. “You should be thankful. He’s devoted.”
“You raised a son who raids my fridge and hands it to you like you’ve earned it.”
Melanie’s tone turned syrupy. “Dear, you married into this family. That means you share.”
“I’ve been sharing since the day we said ‘I do,’” I shot back. “But you…”
Jaden stepped between us. “Babe, it’s no big deal. She’s family. We look out for each other.”
“Oh, now it’s ‘we’?” I said. “All I see is me working, me paying, and you two freeloading.”
Melanie smirked, smug and triumphant. “I always told him growing up: never spend your own cash when someone else is footing the bill. Why buy apples when you can pluck them from a neighbor’s tree?”
I stared at her. “You taught him that?”
“Life’s costly,” she said. “You either spend or survive. I taught him to survive.”
“And I’ve been your personal pantry? Your servant? What else?”
“Sweetheart,” Melanie said with fake warmth. “I raised him for you. The least you can do is show some gratitude. Share what you have. That’s what family does.”
Jaden nodded. “She’s right, babe. You’re not losing anything. We’re just… reallocating.”
I looked at them both. “This isn’t over.”
I turned, marched back to my car, and slammed the door so hard I thought the windows might crack.
By the time I pulled out of the driveway, my plan for cold, sweet revenge was already taking shape. I was ready to hit back.
The next evening, Jaden came home humming. His grin vanished when he glanced out the window.
“Where’s my car?”
I sat on the couch, sipping tea, cool and composed. Waiting.
“Oh, don’t worry. It’s safe. Still in the family.”
“What do you mean, still in the family?” he demanded.
“I had it delivered. To your mother.”
His face went white. “You… you did what?”
“Didn’t you always say the best things go to Mom? Well, now she’s got the best. Your dream car, with a big bow on top.”
Jaden stumbled toward me. “You can’t… She thinks it’s hers?”
“Oh, yes,” I said, smiling thinly. “She was thrilled. She’s waiting for you to bring the papers. Don’t keep her waiting. It’s your mother, after all.”
Jaden clutched his hair. “Oh no… I’ll never get it back. If she finds out this was a mistake, she’ll rip me to shreds!”
“Then don’t make it a mistake. Sign the papers. Make it official. Isn’t that what you taught me? Family shares.”
Jaden stared at me, eyes wide with panic. I picked up my purse, stood, and slung it over my shoulder.
“Now it’s your turn to pay the bills, Jaden. Every single one. I’m done.”
“And what will you do?” he stammered.
“I’ll be saving for my car. Maybe one day I’ll let you ride in it… if you behave. This time, I shared exactly the way you taught me.”
I left Jaden standing there, torn between his pride and his mother, knowing he’d already lost either way.
