My Husband Invited 75 Guests To Stay In Our 2-bedroom Apartment For A Month. He Expected Me To Pay $12,000 For His Mother’s Birthday. So I Drained The Joint Account And Caught A Flight Out Of His Life.

She arrived in Wellington at 12:45 a.m. She got off the plane, entered the airport terminal, collected her suitcase from the baggage claim, and went out to the arrivals area.

There were hardly any people. It was a late-night flight, and everyone dispersed quickly.

Her mother was waiting for her at the exit. She was a small, slim woman with short hair and attentive gray eyes.

She was wearing jeans and a warm jumper and had the car keys in her hand. As soon as she saw her daughter, she approached and, without asking any questions, gave her a tight hug.

“Let’s go home, darling,” she said.

They got into her old but sturdy car. Her mother started it.

They drove through the empty nocturnal streets of Wellington. Hannah looked out the window.

The city was asleep. Only a few windows were lit.

Her mother drove in silence, not asking anything, knowing her daughter would talk when she was ready. They arrived in 20 minutes.

Her mother’s house was a flat in a five-story building in a quiet neighborhood. They went up to the third floor and entered.

Hannah took off her jacket and shoes. Her mother put the kettle on.

“Get changed. Come and we’ll sit and talk,” she said.

Hannah went to her old room. Everything was still the same: the narrow bed, the desk, the bookshelf with textbooks and novels from her student days.

On the wall, a poster of the band she liked as a teenager. She quickly unpacked, hung her clothes in the wardrobe, left her cosmetics, and put on comfortable clothes.

She returned to the kitchen. Her mother was already sitting at the table, and steam was rising from two cups of tea.

Hannah sat opposite and her mother pushed a cup towards her. “Tell me,” she said.

Hannah told her the facts concisely, without emotion. That her husband had announced that 75 guests would be staying at their house for a month, that she had packed her bag in silence and left.

That she had blocked the cards, taken her money, and left. That she was going to file for divorce.

Her mother listened, nodding. Her face was calm, but there was pride in her eyes.

When Hannah finished speaking, her mother said, “You did the right thing. I’m very proud of you, darling. You didn’t let them take advantage of you. You respected yourself and that’s the most important thing.”

Hannah smiled faintly. She knew her mother would understand.

Her mother poured more tea. “Stay here as long as you need. My home is always open for you. If you want to stay, you can look for a job here, or you can go back to Auckland without that burden. It’s your decision,” she said.

Hannah nodded. “Thanks, Mom,” she said.

They drank their tea, washed the cups, and each went to their own room. Hannah lay down in her old bed, narrow but comfortable.

She covered herself with the thin blanket. Outside, she could hear the rustling of leaves in the wind.

In the distance, a dog barked. There was calm and peace.

She closed her eyes and, for the first time in many years, fell asleep quickly and deeply without a single worry on her mind.

The Fallout and the Finality

In the morning, Hannah woke up late, around 10:00. The sun was filtering through the curtains.

The room was warm and bright. She stretched, got up, and went to the kitchen.

Her mother had already left for work as a maths teacher at a high school. She started at 8:00.

On the table was a note. “Breakfast is in the fridge: a slice of pavlova and a bacon and egg pie. Heat it up and eat. Get some rest. We’ll talk tonight. Love you, Mom,” it said.

Hannah smiled and stuck the note on the fridge with a magnet. She took out the pie, heated it in the microwave, and made a coffee.

She sat by the window and had breakfast without rushing. Outside, Wellington was living its quiet life.

People walked along the streets. Cars passed. Children were playing somewhere.

After breakfast, she turned on her phone. When the screen lit up, notifications started flooding in after a few seconds.

53 missed calls from Liam. 32 messages.

Five calls from an unknown number—it must have been her mother-in-law. Hannah took a quick look at Liam’s messages.

At first they were panicked. “Hannah, please come back. We can talk about everything. Don’t be so drastic. Let’s talk like adults, calmly,” one message read.

Then came the accusations. “You ruined everything on purpose! My mother has been crying hysterically for two days. The relatives are already starting to arrive and are asking me where they’re going to stay! I don’t know what to tell them! How am I supposed to host them now? I don’t have money to pay for a hotel for them! You took it all!” he said.

Then attempts to appeal to compassion and pressure. “You know this isn’t right. It’s my family. It’s my mother. It’s her 60th birthday. She’s dreamed her whole life of a party like this. Don’t you feel bad? With all the effort she put into planning it, and you destroyed it all in a moment! How can you be so cruel?” he asked.

And finally, the threats. “You’re going to regret this! I’m going to sue you! You stole money from the joint account! That’s illegal! I’ll get it all back through a lawyer and I’ll take the apartment too! You’ll be left with nothing!” he said.

Hannah laughed when she read the last message. Sue her on what grounds?

She had taken her own money from an account she herself had deposited it into. She had blocked a card issued in her name.

Legally, everything was impeccably clean. There was no infringement.

The relationship property agreement they signed three years ago made it clear. As Liam had paid the deposit, the apartment was his.

Hannah had agreed at the time without much thought. Now she claimed no rights to the apartment and was glad to leave it to him with all its debts and mortgage.

To set the record straight, she sent a single brief message to Liam. “No need to go to a lawyer. It’s a waste of money. The apartment is yours. I claim no rights to it. I will file for divorce by mutual consent this week. There is nothing to divide. We have no joint assets or children. Everything will be as simple and quick as possible. Do not contact me again,” she wrote.