Getting an email from my ex-husband’s new wife was unexpected. Getting an email with a $5,000 bill attached was even worse.
The bill listed “expenses caused by me” during my marriage to Matt.
We’d been divorced for two years, and I had moved on. I loved my quiet life and had no interest in Matt’s new marriage to Stephanie.
Matt and I had divorced because I eventually realized I wasn’t his wife—I was basically his mother. He left dirty clothes everywhere, ignored chores, lost his job, and expected me to handle everything from bills to doctor appointments.
After our divorce, Matt married Stephanie.
Before their wedding, Stephanie actually called me asking for photos of Matt and me for their wedding slideshow, along with details about his favorite foods and hobbies so she could “personalize” her vows.
I politely refused.
I thought that was the end of it.
Then, a month later, I received her invoice.
She charged me $300 for Matt’s glasses because I supposedly failed to notice his eyesight getting worse, $2,500 for a new wardrobe, $200 for therapy, $500 for a fitness coach, $1,000 for a mattress, and $100 for a meal-planning course.
Total: over $5,000.
Her message was simple: “As his wife, I’ve invested heavily in fixing him. It’s only fair you contribute.”
I stared at the screen in disbelief.
I could have written an angry response.
Instead, I decided to have some fun.
I sent her a counter-invoice.
I charged $10,000 for managing the household while Matt played video games, $15,000 for emotional labor, and $5,000 for the years I spent listening to his ridiculous business ideas.
Total: $30,000. Payable by next Friday.
Then I CC’d a few mutual friends.
Within hours, my phone exploded.
“Emma, this is legendary!”
Stephanie was furious. She tried explaining herself, but somehow every explanation made her look worse.
Then Matt called.
“Emma… I’m sorry. I had no idea she’d do that.”
It was the first apology I had ever received from him.
I laughed.
“Matt, it’s fine. Just make sure you pay that invoice.”
A few weeks later, someone asked him at a party if he had paid me for all that “emotional labor.”
His face turned bright red, and he left.
Now, whenever Stephanie’s name comes up, someone inevitably says:
“Oh, you mean the one with the bill?”
And honestly?
I regret nothing.