I Caught My Ex MIL Stealing My Shower Cabin and Ripping off Wallpaper Her Son Had Glued

After a turbulent marriage, Kelly and Peter finalized their divorce. While the split should have brought closure, Peter’s mother, Lorraine, had other plans. From tearing down wallpaper to hauling off an entire shower cabin, Lorraine’s antics pushed Kelly’s patience to the limit. But eventually, reality hit Lorraine hard, and life taught her a lesson she never expected.

I’m Kelly. After ten years of marriage, I divorced Peter six months ago. The relationship had been my world—until I uncovered his affair. That betrayal shattered everything, leading to a messy, painful divorce. As if that weren’t enough, I also had to contend with Lorraine, my ex-mother-in-law, who had made it her mission to make my life miserable.

Lorraine had always disapproved of me. Throughout the marriage, she found ways to remind me I wasn’t “good enough” for her son.

“Peter deserves perfection,” she’d say smugly, “and let’s be honest, Kelly, you’re far from it.”

Once Peter and I separated, Lorraine worked tirelessly to ensure I lost everything she deemed valuable. Jewelry, money, property—she took it all without hesitation.

I clung to the hope that once the divorce was over, peace would finally come. But it didn’t.

One afternoon, exhausted from work, I arrived home only to find my shower cabin sitting in the building’s hallway, labeled with a brazen “Peter’s Property” sticker. My heart sank as I stepped into my apartment and found Lorraine mid-destruction. Wallpaper hung in tatters, dust clouded the air, and Lorraine was muttering to herself as she ripped down the décor.

“What are you doing, Lorraine?” I shouted, horrified.

She turned to me, completely unfazed. “This wallpaper? Peter’s choice. And the shower? It’s ours. You don’t get to keep anything of his.”

Her words hit like a slap. Lorraine wasn’t just dismantling my home; she was taking aim at my dignity.

Defeated, I didn’t argue further. She left with her “loot,” and I convinced myself the worst was over.

But days later, Lorraine came pounding at my door again—this time, with tears in her eyes.

“Kelly, you have to help Peter,” she begged, her usual arrogance replaced by desperation.

“Help him? After everything he’s done?” I asked, confused.

“He’s been in an accident,” she cried. “It’s bad. He was out drinking, and… please, Kelly, you’re the only one who can save him.”

A flicker of pity stirred within me, but it was quickly overshadowed by the memories of Peter’s betrayal.

“No, Lorraine,” I said firmly. “Peter made his choices. Now he has to live with them.”

Her expression darkened, and she spat venomously, “You’ll regret this, Kelly!” before storming out.

Weeks passed, and I heard rumors about Peter’s condition. He was recovering but struggling financially, drowning in medical bills. Against my better judgment, I decided to see him, hoping for closure.

When I arrived at Lorraine’s house, Peter greeted me from the couch, surrounded by chaos—discarded takeout boxes, dirty dishes, and general disarray.

“Kelly! Thank God you’re here,” he said, immediately launching into a plea for financial help.

“I’m not here to fix your life, Peter,” I replied, disgusted by his audacity. “I only wanted to see if you were okay physically. Clearly, this was a mistake.”

I left without looking back.

Not long after, Lorraine returned to my door. But this time, she wasn’t the smug woman I’d known. Her shoulders were slumped, and her face was etched with regret.

“Kelly,” she whispered. “I was wrong. About everything. Peter’s not who I thought he was. I spent years defending him, enabling him, and now… now I see the truth.”

For the first time, I saw Lorraine as more than my adversary. She was a mother grieving the son she thought she had. Though I couldn’t forget the pain she’d caused me, I softened, offering her a seat and a warm meal.

Months later, I received a letter from Peter. It wasn’t an excuse—it was an apology.

“Kelly, I’m sorry. For everything. I’m trying to figure out who I am without the lies. I don’t expect forgiveness, but I want you to know I’m working on myself.”

As I read his words, a wave of closure washed over me. Finally, I could move on, leaving both Peter and Lorraine in the past, where they belonged.

Would you have forgiven him?