I thought I was in a happy relationship until I found a hidden note from my boyfriend’s ex. At first, I assumed it was just bitter revenge. But as I read it, my blood ran cold because every word she wrote wasn’t just my imagination.
It was a nightmare I had to escape before it was too late. It’s funny how something as simple as a crumpled old note can shake your entire world. And by funny, I mean the kind of gut-punch irony that makes you question every decision you’ve made for the last two years.
I was just cleaning that day. That’s it. I was wiping down shelves, clearing out cabinets — nothing dramatic.
But then, tucked behind a stack of forgotten junk, I found a note, pinned to a picture of a woman I’d never met:
“Dear Matt’s Future Girlfriend,
I know it’s you reading this because he’d never clean back here. I’m putting this here because I’m leaving him soon and want to warn you about him:
1) He will not clean. 2) He will not listen.
3) He will make everything feel like it’s YOUR fault. It’s not your fault, he’s just an incompetent man. I’m leaving him, I suggest you do the same.
Best wishes, Teresa. (PS: That’s me in the picture & I’m really happy now after breaking up with this unhygienic stinky bomb ;))”
I stared at it, the words practically pulsing off the page. Something told me she wasn’t lying because Matt always put off cleaning.
We were together for two years and had been living together for eight months. Whenever I asked him to take out the trash, wipe down the counters, or pick up his own soiled socks, he’d mumble excuses like, “I’m busy right now… I’ll do it later.”
But “later” never came.
Dishes sat in the sink until I caved and washed them. Trash piled up. And laundry went unfolded.
My hands trembled as I held the note. “How many times have I made excuses for him?” I whispered to myself, tears welling up. “How many times have I diminished my own feelings just to keep the peace?”
I told myself it wasn’t a big deal, that he was just forgetful.
But now, staring at this note, I wasn’t so sure. When Matt got home, I held up the note. “What the hell is this?” I asked.
His face darkened the second he saw Teresa’s name and picture. Without hesitation, he ripped the paper from my hands, crumpled it, and tossed it toward the trash. “Rachel, don’t even start.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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