eturned from their celebratory dinner, the locks had already been changed.
Their suitcases sat neatly on the porch under the dim glow of the porch light.
Inside, I waited.
“The hell—?” Daniel muttered, rattling the doorknob. When it wouldn’t open, he pounded on the door. “Grandma! What the hell is this?!”
I took my time, sipping my coffee before approaching the door. Slowly, I knelt and opened the mail slot.
“You wanted me gone, dear,” I said sweetly. “Well, now you get to see what it’s like.”
His face appeared in the slot, flushed with rage. “You can’t do this! This is my house!”
I laughed softly. “Oh, honey. You really should’ve read the fine print.”
Behind him, Chloe sighed, still glued to her phone. “Ugh, this is so embarrassing, Daniel.”
I closed the mail slot and walked away, humming to myself.
I never saw him again.
A month later, I sold the house and moved into a lovely retirement community.
For the first time in years, I spent money on myself—traveling, painting, making friends who truly cared.
And Daniel?
The last I heard, Chloe left him the moment she realized he was homeless.
So yes… I got the last laugh.
And it was absolutely glorious.
Source: amomama.com
Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance. All images are for illustration purposes only
