When my husband Gríma came back for the old mattress I’d dragged to the curb after discovering his affair, I thought he’d completely lost his mind. But when I finally tore open what he’d hidden inside, I realized his lies were far darker and deeper than I’d ever imagined, and I was about to turn the tables forever.
It was absurd. Of all the things he could have returned for, Gríma showed up in a rented moving van for that sagging, stained mattress. I stood on the porch watching him pull up, his face gaunt, eyes blood-shot, like he hadn’t slept in days. He ignored the boxes of his clothes and books scattered across the lawn and stared only at the empty spot where the mattress had been.
“Where is it?” he shouted, panic cracking his voice.
A cold shiver ran through me. This man who had once been my whole world was now a stranger obsessed with a piece of furniture.
“What are you talking about?” I called back, arms folded tight. “It’s a mattress, Gríma. I threw it out, just like I threw you out.”
His face went white. His mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. This was the same man who had refused to replace it for years despite my constant back pain, the same man who only ever thought of himself.
“I need it,” he insisted, eyes wild. “Where did they take it?”
I almost laughed. “You need it? For Shelob’s apartment?” I spat. “It’s gone. The garbage truck came yesterday.”
He staggered as if I’d struck him. For a second I thought he might collapse right there on the driveway. He clutched his head, muttering, “No, no, no…”
“You had no right!” he suddenly roared, turning on me.
“I had every right!” I stepped forward, voice shaking with fury. “You slept with her in our bed! Did you expect me to keep it as a souvenir?”
It had started two weeks earlier. While doing laundry, I found the lipstick on his collar, bright crimson, a shade I would never wear. My stomach dropped. That night I held up the shirt and asked, “Who is she, Gríma?”
He barely glanced at it. “It’s not what you think, Taury.”
“Not what I think?” My voice cracked. “Tell me the truth.”
And he did, calm as ordering coffee. “It’s been going on for months.”
Everything inside me shattered. Every promise, every memory, every future we’d planned, gone. I felt sick, betrayed, and angrier than I’d ever been in my life.
“Get out,” I whispered.
“Taury—”
“Get out!” I screamed, pointing at the door. “Pack your things and get out of my house!”
He stared for a long moment, then nodded once. “Fine.”
I spent the next hours in a blind rage, hurling his clothes into boxes, his shoes, his precious gadgets. Then I saw the mattress, the place where he’d betrayed me, and I dragged it to the curb myself.
That night I waited, half hoping he’d come back begging. He didn’t. Not until today.
“Where is it?” he demanded again, voice climbing. “What did you do with it?”
I leaned against the porch rail, watching him search the yard like a madman. “I told you, it’s gone. Why do you even care? It’s just a mattress.”
Something was seriously wrong. My pulse raced. Why this desperation over a piece of furniture?
“What’s going on, Gríma?” I asked, quieter now. “Why does it matter so much?”
He wouldn’t answer, just stared at the empty curb.
“Gríma,” I pressed, stepping closer. “Tell me.”
He drew a ragged breath and met my eyes. “I have to find it, Taury. You don’t understand. I have to.”
Then he turned, climbed back into the van, and drove off, leaving me drowning in questions.
After he left, suspicion gnawed at me. His panic didn’t make sense. Staring at the bare patch of grass, one thought took root: what if he’d hidden something inside it?
It took an hour at the city dump, digging through filth, before I spotted it, half-buried under trash bags. Heart hammering, I hauled it free. The stench was awful, but I didn’t care. With my pocketknife I sliced the seam.
My breath stopped.
Bundles of cash, thick stacks wrapped in plastic, stuffed deep into the lining.
I pulled them out with shaking hands. Thousands. Tens of thousands. Maybe more.
This man I had trusted with my life had hidden a fortune from me.
How long? And why?
Tears burned, but I refused to let them fall. Not now. I shoved the bundles into my bag and drove home, mind spinning.
At the kitchen table I spread the money out, staring at it in disbelief. This wasn’t just cheating. This was calculated, cold-blooded deceit. Proof of how little he’d ever valued me.
But something else sparked inside the anger, something strong and bright: power.
I had found his secret. I held the upper hand now.
The next morning I knew he’d return. He needed this money and thought it was lost forever.
When the van pulled up again, I took a steadying breath, walked outside, and held up one thick bundle.
His eyes went wide. “Where did you—”
“Inside the mattress,” I cut in coldly. “How much is here, Gríma? How long have you been hiding this, planning to disappear and leave me with nothing?”
He froze like prey. “Taury, it’s not—”
“It’s exactly what I think,” I snapped. “You cheated, you lied, and you were going to run off with Shelob and this money while I scraped by.”
“It was for us!” he pleaded, stepping closer. “I was saving—”
“Don’t.” I laughed, sharp and bitter. “There is no ‘us’ anymore. And this?” I lifted the bundle higher. “I’m keeping it. Call it payment for every lie, every tear, every night you spent with her.”
His face twisted with rage. “You can’t! That’s mine!”
“No, Gríma,” I said, voice low and steady. “It’s mine now. You’ve taken enough from me.”
I turned, walked back inside, and slammed the door. He pounded on it, shouting, cursing, begging, but I didn’t open it again. I locked every bolt, leaned against the wood, and for the first time in weeks, I smiled.
The house was quiet. The irony washed over me: that filthy mattress I’d despised had held treasure after all, just like the marriage I’d once cherished. I thought I was throwing away pain. Instead, I’d found my freedom.
I stood taller, lighter than I’d felt in years. The road ahead would be mine alone, and I would walk it rich, unbroken, and finally, completely free.
As I watched his van speed away, I knew I had left both him and that wretched mattress behind forever.