And, oh, he did something about it.
The next day, he stormed into his boss’s office and quit. Just like that. No backup plan. No job lined up. Nothing.
Suddenly, I was covering all our bills. I told myself it was temporary. We were a team, after all. That’s what I kept repeating to myself as I showed him the cash I kept in my dresser drawer, just in case.
“This is only for emergencies,” I said firmly. “We need to be careful with our finances until you get another job.”
Aaron nodded. “Of course, babe. I get it.”
I wanted to believe him.
But months passed, and his “job search” mostly consisted of playing video games and watching YouTube videos about getting rich with cryptocurrency. He’d occasionally mention some “amazing opportunity” he was researching, but they never led to actual interviews.
Meanwhile, I was working overtime to keep us afloat—coming home to a messy house and a husband glued to his gaming controller.
Then, one Friday afternoon, my boss called me into his office.
A Well-Deserved Bonus
I was expecting bad news.
Instead, he slid a check across the desk. A $2,500 bonus.
“You’ve been an incredible asset to this company, Olivia,” he said, smiling. “We want to reward your hard work.”
I nearly cried.
Finally, something good.
I floated home that evening, imagining Aaron’s reaction. Maybe this would be the wake-up call he needed—seeing how hard work pays off.
“Babe, you deserve it,” he said when I told him, wrapping me in a hug and kissing my forehead.
But something in his voice made my stomach twist. It was too sweet. Too rehearsed.
I tried to shake off the feeling.
The Betrayal
Then came dinner with my mother-in-law, Ruth.
If you took every bad mother-in-law stereotype and combined them into one person, you’d have Ruth.
She breezed into our home, immediately inspecting for imaginary dust and making passive-aggressive comments about my cooking.
“Olivia, you should really use less salt,” she tutted, pushing her food around her plate. “It’s bad for Aaron’s heart.”
Never mind that Aaron had already dumped extra salt onto his meal without even tasting it.
I gritted my teeth, determined to get through the evening.
Then, I saw it.
A brand-new iPhone 16 Pro Max, gleaming under the dining room lights.
“Oh, wow. That’s a new phone, isn’t it?” I asked, my throat dry. “Who’s the generous soul?”
Ruth beamed. “Aaron got it for me! He knows how to treat his mommy right.”
Aaron suddenly found his mashed potatoes very interesting.
I smiled. “How sweet of him.”
But inside, I felt ice-cold rage.
I excused myself, ran to the bedroom, and yanked open my dresser drawer.
Empty.
The entire $3,000 I’d been saving—for emergencies, for our future—was gone.
The Perfect Lesson
Aaron thought he could steal from me to spoil his mommy?
He was about to learn a lesson.
Two days later, the perfect opportunity presented itself.
Aaron had been hinting for weeks that he wanted a top-range gaming laptop. That evening, while we sat on the couch, he tried again.
“Babe, you know how you got that bonus? Maybe I could use some of it to get a new laptop? My old one’s dying.”
He gave me those puppy dog eyes that used to make me melt.
I smiled sweetly. “You’re right, babe.”
His face lit up.
“In fact,” I continued, pulling up my phone, “I already ordered the best gaming laptop on the market for you.”
His jaw dropped in excitement. “You did? When does it arrive?”
“Oh, it arrived this morning.”
His eyes darted around. “Wait—where is it?”
I took a slow sip of my coffee, then leaned back on the couch.
“I sent it to your mom’s house.”
Aaron blinked. “What?“
“Since you love spoiling her so much, I figured she could use it. She can play Candy Crush. Maybe start a streaming channel.”
His face turned ghostly pale. He jumped off the couch.
“You sent my laptop to my mom?!“
I crossed my arms. “Oh, so it’s a problem when I use my money on your mother? But it wasn’t when you did it behind my back?”
His jaw opened and closed as he tried to find an excuse.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” he stammered. “I’ll return the phone! I’ll get your money back!”
“Yes, you will. And you’ll deposit it into my new bank account. From now on, you don’t have access to my money.”
He started to protest, but I wasn’t finished. I pulled out a printed job listing and handed it to him.
“Hope you enjoy your job hunt, babe. Because your gravy train just ended.”
And wouldn’t you know it—Aaron had a job within two weeks.
Turns out motivation comes real fast when your safety net disappears.