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.
She’s crazy. You have no idea what I went through with her.”
“Okay, but… is any of it true?”
He scoffed. “She’s just trying to get in your head.
You’re seriously listening to this?”
I crossed my arms. “I mean, Matt… the cleaning thing? It’s not nothing.
I hadn’t really put it together until now, but you’ve been doing less and less. And you never cleaned back there. That’s how I found it.”
His jaw tightened.
“You weren’t complaining before.”
“Because I didn’t realize how much I was letting slide.”
“Do you hear yourself right now?” His voice rose, making me flinch. “Two years together, and you’re going to let some bitter ex’s note destroy everything we’ve built?”
“Built? What exactly have we built, Matt?
A relationship where I do everything while you contribute nothing?”
“Nothing?” He slammed his hand on the counter, making me jump. “I pay half the rent, don’t I? I buy groceries sometimes.
What more do you want from me?”
“I want a partner! Not someone I have to mother!”
He ran a hand through his hair, already exasperated. “For heaven’s sake, Rachel, you’re really gonna let my crazy ex manipulate you like this?
This isn’t about cleaning… it’s about her trying to mess with me. And you’re letting her.”
His words hit me like a slap.
This wasn’t about Teresa. This was about us. But Matt refused to see it that way.
When I left to stay at a friend’s place that night, his last text was:
“I’m sorry you felt like you had to leave. But seriously, Rachel? You’re choosing a note over our relationship?
Over me? Over our pets?”
I didn’t answer. The next morning, I returned and tried to reason again.
I wanted to be fair and logical. I even made a list of all the times I had to remind him to clean up after himself. “You’re keeping a list now?!” He mocked.
“God, Rachel. You sound just like HER.”
I froze. “Just like her?
You know what? Forget it,” I said, grabbing my coat. “Where are you going?”
“Away from this conversation.”
When I stepped toward the door, he moved in front of it.
“You’re NOT leaving,” he said, his voice low and threatening. My heart hammered against my ribs. “Move, Matt.
Now.”
“Not until you listen to me.” He stepped closer, his breath hot on my face. “You’re being ridiculous. This isn’t you, Rachel.
This isn’t us.”
“Maybe this is exactly who I am,” I whispered, my voice stronger than I felt. “Maybe I’m finally seeing clearly for the first time.”
His eyes flashed with something unreadable, something I didn’t like. But after a long, tense beat, he stepped aside.
That was the moment I knew I was done. I called my brother and told him to meet me at the apartment after Matt left for work. I needed backup while I grabbed my things.
While I packed, I left a little note of my own, tucking it right where Teresa’s had been. “Dear Matt,
Clean your dirty house. Best wishes,
Rachel.”
It was petty.
But at least I kept it short and to the point. That night, I lay awake in my friend’s guest room, the ceiling fan humming above me. My mind wouldn’t shut off.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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