They say love blinds you. Mine didn’t just blind me—it cost me $8,437.63 and three wasted years. Brandon, the man I thought was my forever, turned out to be a liar planning his escape. But karma has a way of getting creative.

We met at a bookstore café where I worked part-time. He was charming, ambitious, and claimed to be a rising app developer. A year later, we moved in together. Brandon insisted he’d handle rent and utilities while I covered groceries. “I’m saving for our house fund,” he promised, his hands warm around mine. I believed him. For three years, I worked, cooked, and supported his so-called late nights.

Then a letter arrived: Notice of Legal Action for Unpaid Rent—$8,437.63. My name was the only one on the lease, forged to look like my signature. Six months of rent hadn’t been paid. Brandon had been pocketing the money while whispering about our future. My shock turned to numb silence when I found texts on his phone to another woman—plans to condo hunt together, jokes about me being “the dummy” on the lease.

I didn’t confront him. I planned. With help from our landlord, I changed the locks and discovered Brandon’s prized possession: his sneaker collection. Before leaving, I cracked raw eggs into every rare pair. Jordans, Yeezys, Dunks—every single one.

When Brandon returned, locked out and panicked, I told him the truth: pay the debt or lose everything. Within days, he wired the money, but left the reeking sneakers behind.

I cried that night, not for him, but for myself—because I’d finally chosen me. And that felt better than any revenge.