When her husband betrayed her father’s trust by refusing to repay a $30,000 loan, she decided to teach him a lesson he’d never forget. Armed with a fake pregnancy test and a clever plan, she turned the tables, leaving him scrambling for cash and ultimately walking away $50,000 richer. I grew up in a small town where everyone knew each other. My dad drove the local bus, and my mom cleaned rooms at the motel on the edge of town. We didn’t have much, but we were happy. My parents worked hard and always made sure we had food on the table. They taught me the value of hard work and honesty.

Then I met Tom. He was charming and full of big dreams. I was swept off my feet. We met at a friend’s party, and he made me laugh like no one else. “You’re different,” he said, holding my gaze with his clear blue eyes. “I like that.” We dated for a year before he proposed. I thought I’d found my happily ever after. The first year of marriage was wonderful. We laughed a lot and talked about our future. “I’m going to make us rich one day, you’ll see,” he’d say.

I believed him because he believed it. My parents were happy for me, too. They saw how happy I was, and that was enough for them. One evening, about two years into our marriage, Tom came home with a serious look on his face.

“I’ve got a great idea for a business, babe,” he said, excitement in his voice. “But I need some start-up money. I was thinking maybe we could ask your dad.” I hesitated. “I don’t know, Tom. They don’t have much. It’s a big ask.””Just $30,000,” he said as if it was pocket change. “It’ll change our lives, I promise. I’ll pay it back in a year, I swear.”

The next weekend, we sat at my parents’ kitchen table. My dad listened quietly while Tom explained his business idea. He talked about opening a small auto repair shop. “I’ve got the skills, Jim,” Tom said, leaning forward. “I just need a little help to get started.” My dad looked thoughtful. “That’s a lot of money, Tom. But I believe in giving people a chance. If you’re sure about this, I’ll lend you the money.” “Thank you, Jim! I won’t let you down,” Tom said, shaking my dad’s hand firmly. They agreed on the terms: Tom would pay back the loan in one year. It was simple and based on trust.

My dad was always like that, generous and trusting. He believed in people, sometimes too much. But that’s just who he was. Six months later, the business was struggling. Tom was working long hours, but customers weren’t coming in as expected. “It’s just a rough patch,” he’d say. “Things will pick up.” But they didn’t. A year passed, and the business was barely hanging on. Tom became distant, spending more time at the shop and coming home late. One night, I brought up the loan. “You haven’t forgotten about the money you owe Dad, have you?”

Tom’s face darkened. “What money?” he snapped. “The $30,000 he lent you. You said you’d pay it back in a year.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his eyes cold. “I never borrowed any money.” I was stunned. “Are you serious? You sat right there and asked him! You shook his hand, Tom!” “You’re imagining things,” he said, turning away. “Your dad must be confused.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The man I married was pretending the loan never happened.