When my husband came home with another woman and announced he wanted her to be his second wife, I thought it was a joke. But when I realized he was serious, I told him I’d agree on one condition. That condition was something he wasn’t expecting.
I never thought I’d find myself in this situation, but here I am, ready to share what happened a week ago.
It all started a couple of months ago when Jack, my husband of eight years, began acting strangely.
A man standing in his bedroom | Source: Midjourney
We weren’t newlyweds anymore, but our marriage was stable. Or at least, that’s what I thought.
Jack’s mood shifts were subtle at first.
He’d always been full of ideas, but suddenly, he was talking about “alternative lifestyles” as if he’d discovered a new way of life.
“You know,” he said one evening while scrolling on his phone, “some people are really embracing unconventional ways of living. Makes you think about what works and what doesn’t.”
“Like what?” I asked.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said vaguely. “Just… ways to make life easier.”
I assumed he meant something harmless, like minimalism or one of those eco-friendly lifestyles.
The thing is, Jack was always diving headfirst into fads. There was that time he became obsessed with woodworking and another when he swore he’d open a food truck.
It always fizzled out eventually. I thought this time would be no different.
A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney
Then came the comments.
“Wouldn’t it be nice if we had some extra help around here?” he asked one night as I folded laundry.
“What do you mean?” I replied, glancing at him.
“Oh, nothing,” he said with a shrug. “You’re always so busy. Don’t you think it’d be great if you had someone to share the load?”
“You mean a cleaning service?” I joked.
He chuckled but didn’t answer. His tone was weirdly serious, and for the first time, I felt uneasy.
A man with a serious look | Source: Midjourney
Around this time, I noticed he’d started spending a lot more time on his phone. He’d take it everywhere. Literally everywhere. The kitchen, the bathroom, and even to bed.
He’d sit there scrolling and chuckling to himself. When I asked what was so funny, he’d say, “Just some reels on Instagram.”
At first, I brushed it off. But then something about his weird habit started bothering me.I mean, who spends so much time on their phone? And that too all of a sudden?
That’s when I knew I had to confront him.
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
One night, as he came out of the bathroom with his phone in hand, I finally asked, “Jack, is everything okay?”
He paused mid-step.
“Of course,” he said with a smile. “I’m just thinking about how to make life better for us, that’s all. Don’t worry about it.”
His words were meant to reassure me, but they had the opposite effect. “Make life better for us” sounded like code for something I wasn’t ready to unpack.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
A few days later, Jack asked me something that sent a shiver down my spine.
“Do you think I’m honest with you?” he said casually.
“Honest?” I repeated. “Umm, yeah. Why?”
“No reason,” he replied quickly. “I just think honesty is the most important thing in a marriage. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Of course,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “But what’s this about? Where is this coming from?”
“Oh, nothing,” he chuckled. “I just think it’s time we talked about the future. You know, ways to make things better for both of us.”
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
“Uh, okay,” I said, thinking of a way to change the topic. “I have to go grab some things from the store today. Mind coming along?”
“Sure,” he said.
I hoped he’d drop whatever weird topic he was trying to bring up that day. But in hindsight, that conversation was just the beginning of the storm.
Fast forward to last week. Jack came home from work looking unusually chipper. I was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner when the door swung open.
A woman chopping vegetables | Source: Pexels
I glanced up, expecting his usual halfhearted “Hey, babe.” Instead, he walked in with a young woman trailing behind him.
“Amelia,” he said in a cheerful tone, “this is Claire.”
I set the knife down, confused.
Who was this woman? Was this a friend? I’d never heard her name before.
“Hi, Claire,” I said. “Can I, uh, help you with something?”
Instead of replying, she just stared at Jack, waiting for him to answer.
“What’s going on, Jack?” I asked impatiently.
I knew something was not right.
A woman standing in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“Amelia…” he began. “Claire is going to be my second wife.”
Second wife? I thought he was joking.
“Good one, Jack,” I laughed. “You got me. Where’s the hidden camera?”
But his expression didn’t change. He was serious. Dead serious.
“You’re joking,” I said. “This isn’t true, right?”
My gaze shifted from him to Claire, who stared back at me like I was the one being unreasonable.
A woman standing in her boyfriend’s house | Source: Midjourney
“No,” Jack replied. “Listen, Amelia, this is going to sound unconventional, but it’s practical. Claire is a hardworking woman. She can help with the cooking, cleaning, and other household tasks. This way, everything runs smoothly. And it’s better than sneaking around and having a mistress, right? At least I’m being honest.”
I stared at him, trying to process his words.
He was trying to fit another woman into our lives as if it was no big deal. And he wanted me to appreciate his honesty? Seriously Jack?
A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney
Meanwhile, Claire stood behind him, trying to avoid my gaze. I could tell that she wanted to be anywhere but there.
As I stood there, Jack kept rambling about how this was the “best solution” for everyone. That’s when a wicked idea popped into my head.
I folded my arms and waited for him to finish. When he finally stopped talking, I smiled sweetly.
“Alright,” I said. “You can have a second wife. But I’ll set one rule.”
His face lit up. “Of course! Anything! What’s the rule?”
A man smiling while talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
“She can’t approach my second husband,” I announced. “Deal?”
Jack stared at me like I’d just said the most unusual thing he’d ever heard.
“S-second husband?” he stammered. “Wh-what does that mean?”
“Well, if you’re allowed to have a second spouse, why shouldn’t I? Think about it, Jack. Two incomes. Someone to take me out when you’re busy or don’t feel like it. A man who actually buys me flowers. It’s only fair, right?”
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
“That’s… that’s not how it works!” he spluttered. “You’re being ridiculous, Amelia!”
“Oh, I’m the ridiculous one?” I shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You walk in here with a stranger and expect me to welcome her with open arms, but the idea of me having the same freedom is absurd? Interesting logic, Jack.”
Claire stood frozen, her gaze darting between us like she’d accidentally wandered into the wrong room. If she was nervous before, she now looked like she was seconds away from bolting out the door.
A woman looking at her boyfriend talk to his wife | Source: Midjourney
Jack’s face turned red as he tried to justify his idea.
“This is different,” he said. “A man having two wives… it’s acceptable in some cultures. But a woman having two husbands? No one has ever heard of that.”
I snorted. “Oh, so now you’re an expert on culture? Funny, I don’t remember you suddenly adopting any other traditions. Why only THIS SPECIFIC tradition, huh?”
“Amelia, be serious,” he said, his voice rising. “You can’t have a second husband. That’s not how things work!”
A man arguing with his wife | Source: Midjourney
“Well, Jack, if you want to live in a ‘traditional’ way, then I guess I’ll embrace some traditions of my own,” I said with a shrug. “But let me be clear. You can’t have a second wife unless I get a second husband. That’s my rule. Take it or leave it.”
He stared at me with eyes wide open. I knew he wanted to scream at me, but even he knew he was the one being unreasonable.
Then, without another word, he turned to Claire. “Go home. We’ll figure this out later.”
Claire didn’t argue. She grabbed her purse and practically ran out the door without even saying goodbye to the man she thought would marry her.
A close-up shot of a doorknob | Source: Pexels
That night, Jack tried everything to convince me I was being unreasonable. “You don’t mean this,” he said, pacing the living room. “You’re just trying to prove a point. Let’s talk about this like adults.”
“We are talking,” I said coolly. “I’ve made my position clear. If you want Claire, I want another husband. Fair’s fair, Jack.”
By morning, his tune had changed. He entered the kitchen with his gaze lowered.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said sheepishly. “Maybe this whole second-wife thing wasn’t such a great idea.”
A man talking to his wife in the morning | Source: Midjourney
“Maybe?” I replied, arching an eyebrow.
“Fine. It was a terrible idea. Let’s just forget this ever happened, okay?”
Forget this ever happened? Haha! Nice try, Jack.
“It’s too late to forget everything,” I told him. “Last night, I’d set up a dating app profile, and I’ve already received dozens of messages from men who seem way more interested in being my second husband than I ever expected.”
“What do you mean?” he asked in a trembling voice.
“I’m done, Jack. It’s over,” I said.
A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
The next day, I packed my bags and moved to a friend’s house.
Jack kept calling me, but I didn’t respond. He even sent texts, begging me for forgiveness.
Soon, I filed for divorce, and from what I’ve heard, even Claire stopped answering Jack’s calls.
Guess he should’ve thought twice before pitching such a “practical” solution.
Our Stepdad Gifted My Mom a Pack of Toilet Paper for Her Birthday — Our Revenge on Him Was Harsh
My stepdad always made a big deal about being the “man of the house,” but when his “special gift” for my mom’s birthday turned out to be a pack of toilet paper, I decided it was time for payback. And let’s just say someone else ended up desperately needing that present.
My stepfather, Jeff, loved reminding us he was the breadwinner of the house throughout our entire childhood. Anytime we sat down to dinner, he’d start with his usual spiel.
A man lauhing at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney
“You’re lucky I keep this roof over your heads,” he’d say and chortle. He also said it all the time while leaning back on his worn-out recliner. It was his favorite thing in the world.
My mom, Jane, always nodded along. She was the kind of woman who avoided conflict at any cost. She wasn’t raised in the 1950s, but her upbringing had been different from ours. Staying quiet had become almost an art form for her.
As her kids, my siblings (Chloe, Lily, and Anthony) and I could see that she desperately wanted to speak up but didn’t. Meanwhile, we surely didn’t consider him “the king of the castle” or a “real man,” which were other phrases Jeff used to describe himself.
A woman at a dinning table | Source: Midjourney
Yes, he paid all the bills while we were growing up, and we were thankful. But that wasn’t an excuse to treat our mother like a servant and think he was better than the rest of us.
We had tried for years to get Mom to leave him to no avail.
Eventually, we all moved out of their house as we reached adulthood, but my sisters and I continued to visit Mom often. Anthony lived on the other side of the country, but he checked in every other day.
A man on the phone | Source: Midjourney
Still, we worried about her.
I felt that our visits weren’t enough to truly know what was going on in that house. I often sat alone in my apartment and wondered if Mom would ever leave this man and if there was something he could do to finally make her snap out of her proverbial shackles.
Yes, this is where it gets good.
This year, Jeff simply went too far. For days leading up to Mom’s birthday, he wouldn’t stop bragging about the “special gift” he’d picked out for her.
A man on a reclining chair | Source: Midjourney
“This one’s going to knock her socks off,” he said over dinner at their house, grinning like a buffoon.
I wanted to believe him. Maybe he had finally decided to treat her with the respect she deserved. But deep down, I knew better. Jeff was Jeff, and people like him never changed.
My mom’s birthday arrived, and of course, my sisters and I were there, sitting in the living room. Jeff had a twinkle in his eyes, and I knew Mom had hope in hers.
Three sisters with presents in their hands | Source: Midjourney
After she opened our presents, my stepdad handed her a huge, beautifully wrapped package. He was smiling, and my mom’s face lit up as she carefully untied the ribbon.
“Oh, Jeff, you didn’t have to,” she said softly.
“Yes, I did. Go on. Open it,” he urged, leaning forward in his chair.
She unwrapped the box slowly, savoring the moment… until she saw what was inside— toilet paper. 12-pack. Four-ply. Jumbo rolls.
A woman smiling with a big present | Source: Midjourney
Mom blinked in confusion.
“It’s so soft. Just like you!” Jeff declared, slapping his knee and cackling. “And look, four-ply, to represent your four kids. Perfect, right?”
Mom let out a nervous laugh, but I could see her eyes glistening. My sisters and I exchanged a look. This wasn’t just a bad joke; it was cruel.
We’d had enough. We had to do something.
A woman looking angry | Source: Midjourney
***
Two days later, our plan began to take shape. Jeff loved two things: being the “big man” and free food. So, we invited him to a “family dinner” at the Chinese restaurant he always raved about.
Chloe, my youngest sibling, was the one who planted the idea.
“We’ll do it in his favorite place. He won’t suspect a thing,” she said, smirking.
Lily, being the eldest and most practical, raised an eyebrow. “And what happens after?”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Chloe replied. “We’ll handle it.”
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
We set the date and made sure to hype it up, so Jeff wouldn’t miss it.
“Dinner’s on us this time,” Chloe told him sweetly
Jeff puffed out his chest. “Well, it’s about time someone else paid for once. I’m glad that being out of the house has finally opened your eyes to how great you fared because of me!”
We rolled our eyes internally.
The restaurant was bustling that night. Shiny red lanterns hung from the ceiling, giving the space a nice reddish glow.
Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney
The food from other tables smelled delicious, and I could tell Jeff was hungry as we sat down at our table.
“When are your mom and Lily getting here?” he asked, wrinkling his nose toward the front door.
“Don’t worry. They’ll be here soon. How about we order food anyway?” I suggested, nodding towards Chloe.
She agreed and started rattling off things she wanted, things we specifically planned to order: Szechuan beef, Kung Pao chicken, and the spiciest mapo tofu on the menu.
Chinese menu | Source: Midjourney
Jeff ordered his usual, but I knew what we had in mind would still work.
Each dish came out looking like a masterpiece of fiery reds and deep browns, garnished with fresh herbs and enough chili to make a grown man cry.
Chloe’s eyes twinkled as the waiter finished arranging everything on the table.
“Jeff, you can handle spicy, right?” she asked, pretending to be concerned.
A woman smiling at Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney
Jeff stayed silent for a second, stumped, then nodded quickly. “I didn’t realize you gals wanted to share everything. Of course, I can eat anything. Nothing is ever too spicy for a real man.”
I chimed in with, “Be careful with these, though. They’re pretty hot.”
I just knew my words would make him mad.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Amelia,” Jeff scoffed and took his chopsticks to skewer a piece of beef straight into his mouth.
A man looking serious at a Chinese restaurant | Source: Midjourney
At first, he gave out an exaggerated moan, to “prove his manliness,” but soon, his face turned redder than the lanterns above us. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he chewed and breathed through his nose.
“Everything alright?” Chloe asked, again faking worry.
“Yes, yes,” he lied through his full mouth. “This is good stuff.”
I was sure Jeff wouldn’t grab more after gulping down an entire glass of Coke, but Chloe and I began eating in earnest.
“Oh, it’s not so spicy after all,” Chloe commented, smiling sugary-sweet. She was baiting him.
A woman smiling with chopsticks in her hand | Source: Midjourney
I nodded, grabbing more.
Not to be outdone, Jeff began to eat more. He was breathing roughly now, but when we asked if he was alright, he simply said, “This really clears the sinuses, gals.”
Still, his fingers went up and snapped at the waiter to bring him more Coke.
Chloe leaned over and whispered, “He’s going to feel that later.”
“Oh, definitely,” I whispered back, grinning conspiratorially.
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
***
While Jeff was busy showing off his “macho” tolerance for heat, Mom and Lily were busy back at the house with a rented U-Haul and movers.
They worked quickly to load up Mom’s belongings, such as clothes, keepsakes, her favorite chair, and even the toaster. I told them to take the things Mom had given Jeff over the years by saving up when she could: the recliner and his specialty tools.
A truck and workers loading boxes | Source: Midjourney
But the pièce de résistance was Chloe telling them to remove every single roll of toilet paper in the house.
***
Jeff was still red when we left the restaurant, and he was grumbling about Mom and Lily being no-shows. So I just suggested going to the house to see if anything had happened.
When we arrived, everything was ready. The truck had already left. Meanwhile, Mom and Lily were hiding in the garage.
Jeff walked in with Chloe and me right behind him. He barely made it two steps into the living room before he froze.
A dimly lit living room | Source: Midjourney
“Where’s my recliner?” he barked, scanning the empty spot.
“Gone,” Chloe piped in casually, tilting her head. “Mom took what’s hers.”
Jeff turned to us and his face reddened again, but before he could say another word, his stomach gurgled loudly. He doubled over slightly, clutching his gut.
“Oh, man, I think that spicy food—” He paused, looking around frantically.
A man holding his stomach | Source: Midjourney
“Is something wrong, Jeff? I hope it wasn’t the food,” I said, blinking innocently.
He stared daggers at me before bolting down the hall. Moments later, we heard the bathroom door slam.
Lily and Mom appeared out of their hiding spot right in time to hear the sound of Jeff panicking. “What the hell? Where’s all the toilet paper?!” he yelled.
I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“We took that along with the recliner!” I shouted, laughter bubbling up. “After all, it also belonged to Mom!”
A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney
“WHAT?” he shouted back.
It seemed like he wasn’t getting it, so Mom stepped closer to the bathroom door. “I’M LEAVING YOU, JEFF! And I took what was mine,” she exclaimed firmly. “Including my dignity.”
Jeff groaned loudly from behind the bathroom door. “You can’t just leave me like this!” he yelled.
“WATCH ME!” Mom replied, adding, “Not that you can right now, but enjoy staying in the bathroom all night!”
A woman next to a closed door | Source: Midjourney
My sisters and I stared at each other, giggling.
Jeff groaned, and there were other unsavory sounds, which I took as our cue to leave. “Let’s go, Mom,” I said.
She nodded and walked out, thanking us.
***
The next day, Jeff tried to call her. Over and over again, he left voicemails full of fake apologies and pitiful excuses.
“Jane, come on, be reasonable! You can’t just run off like this!” he begged.
A man using a phone | Source: Midjourney
But Mom didn’t answer or call back.
Instead, Chloe had a better idea.
On his birthday, we sent Jeff a little gift. A jumbo pack of toilet paper, wrapped just as carefully as the one he’d given Mom.
Attached was a handwritten note that read: “For a real man.”
Rolls of toilet paper on a porch | Source: Midjourney
Mom moved in with Lily, a temporary arrangement where we all helped while she found a job. Anthony was delighted to learn about what we had done and wished he was there, too.
From what I hear, Jeff’s still complaining to anyone who’ll listen. But Mom is finally living her life without his control, and we couldn’t be prouder.
A happy woman | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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