Wife receives a divorce letter from husband, her reply is brilliant

Dear Wife,

I’m writing you this letter to tell you that I’m leaving you for good. I’ve been a good man to you in our 7 years of marriage & I have nothing to show for it.

These last 2 weeks have been tough for me. Your boss notified me that you quit your job today & that was just too much to bear any longer.

Last week, you came home & didn’t even notice I had a new haircut, had cooked your favorite meal & even wore a brand new pair of silk boxers.

You ate in 2 minutes, & went straight to sleep after watching all of your soaps. You don’t tell me you love me anymore; you don’t want sex or anything that connects us as husband & wife.

Either you’re cheating on me or you don’t love me anymore; whatever the case, It’s over and I am leaving.

Your EX-Husband

P.S. don’t try to find me. Your SISTER & I are moving away to West Virginia together! Have a great life!

Dear Ex-Husband,

Believe me, nothing has made my day more than receiving your letter. It’s definitely true that you & I have been married for the past 7 years, although a good man is a far cry from what you’ve been.

I watch my TV shows so much because they drown out your constant whining & griping, although that doesn’t seem to work.

I definitely noticed your haircut last week, but the 1st thing that came to mind was ‘You look just like a girl!’ And since my mother raised me not to say anything if you can’t say something nice, I decided not to comment.

And when you cooked my favorite meal, you must have gotten me confused with MY SISTER, because I stopped eating pork 7 long years ago.

About those new silk boxers: I turned away from you because the $49.99 price tag was still on them, & I prayed it was a coincidence that my sister had just borrowed $50 from me that morning.

After all of this, I still loved you & felt we could make this work. So when I hit the lotto for 10 million dollars, I quit my job & bought us 2 tickets to Jamaica. But when I got home you were gone.

Everything happens for a reason, I guess. I hope you have the fulfilling life you always wanted. My lawyer said that the letter you wrote ensures you won’t get a dime from me. So take care.

Signed, Your Ex-Wife, Rich As Hell & Free!

P.S. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but my sister Carla was born Carl. I hope that’s not a problem!

Please share this story with your friends and family if you think it was funny.

My Rich Husband Forbade Me from Entering One Room in Our House – I Could Not Stop Crying When I Saw What He Was Hiding

When Alexis’ parents forced her to marry Robert, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. Later, Alexis broke the one rule her husband gave her and entered the room he warned her about, unleashing secrets she wasn’t prepared for.

I couldn’t understand why my parents wanted me to get married before I found someone myself.

“Alexis,” my mother said, “Robert is a catch. He’s a wealthy man who will take care of you. You wouldn’t even have to work.”

I couldn’t refuse. My father had made it clear.

“You marry Robert, Alexis,” he said, puffing on his cigar. “Or you can figure out your own living arrangements.”

In a sense, Robert was my prince charming. Our family had a bakery, which was losing customers because we had no gluten-free options on the menu.

“We will continue to bake what we know,” my father insisted.

Our marriage was definitely an arranged one. Robert’s demeanor was cold, and he refused to let me get to know him properly. I don’t know how my father arranged our connection.

Our wedding was a spectacle of Robert’s affluence, nothing short of extravagant. Robert’s wedding planner had thought of everything.

My wedding dress was a custom piece that he commissioned for me. But even through our wedding planning, we barely spoke.

“I’m looking forward to being married,” he admitted one evening, a few days before the wedding.

“But I don’t know what I’m doing,” he added.

That was the closest Robert had gotten to letting me in.

Two days after our wedding, I moved into our new home.

“Come, I’ll show you around,” Robert said.

He took me around our home, a mansion boasting luxuries I’d never imagined before: sprawling golf courses, a shimmering swimming pool, and a fleet of staff at our beck and call.

“It’s beautiful,” I said when we got to the kitchen. “Everything is beautiful.”

“Now, Alexis, this house belongs to you too,” he declared with a hint of pride.

I smiled at the stranger standing in front of me. Maybe we were going to make something of our marriage.

“But one thing, Alexis,” he said. “There’s one rule. The attic. Never go in there.”

I nodded at Robert. I couldn’t fathom why I wouldn’t be allowed anywhere in the house. But I also recognized that I didn’t know my husband well enough yet. So, I had to obey.

A few days later, Robert went to a meeting, leaving me alone in our massive home.

Driven by curiosity stronger than any warning, I found myself ascending the stairs to the attic. My heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time.

A quick in and out, I thought to myself.

Pushing the door open, I was met with a sight that sent me to my knees, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know why I was crying. I didn’t know why I felt confusion and relief at the same time.

The attic, dimly lit, seemed to be a vault of my husband’s hidden memories. Childhood toys lay scattered, each carrying untold stories. Old postcards and photographs of Robert’s life before me. Among the relics were letters from a young boy to his father, a soldier away at war.

“How dare you come in here? Now, I have to change the locks in my own home because my wife does not respect my requests?”

Robert’s face turned red with rage.

“I just want to understand,” I stammered. “I just want to know you, Robert.”

Slowly, his rage dissolved, and he seemed to see me as a companion in his world, instead of the intruder he had made me out to be.

“Alexis,” he said, “Come, let’s sit.”

Robert led me to the living room.

“My father was a stern man. He was a soldier and he believed in keeping emotions locked away. These are the only things I have of a time when I felt loved,” he confessed.

My heart caught on his every word as his voice broke.

What followed was a revelation of his soul. Stories of a lonely childhood, of a boy yearning for his father’s approval, unfolded in our home.

In those vulnerable moments, I didn’t see the distant, cold man I had married but a boy who had never stopped seeking love and acceptance. He just didn’t know how to go about it.

In those few hours, things changed. Robert started letting me in. And now, years later, our home is filled with the cries and laughter of our daughter, April.

Through our daughter, Robert healed. He healed for himself, and for our daughter.

We’ve packed away everything from the attic, so it is no longer a shrine to Robert’s past but is now my little reading nook.

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