When my husband “accidentally” locked me in the basement so he could watch a basketball game with his friends, I realized just how far he was willing to go to get what he wanted. What happened next still blows my mind.
It all started when Ethan, my husband, suggested having his friends over to watch a game. I already knew the chaos that would come with it, and I wasn’t happy. I should’ve stood my ground right then, but I didn’t.
Ethan’s friends were nothing like him. He was a successful 35-year-old manager at a tech company, but for some reason, he still kept in touch with his high school buddies—guys who were loud, immature, and disrespectful. Every time they came over, our home turned into a frat house, and I was left to clean up after them.
“Dani, it’s just one game,” Ethan said, flashing me that hopeful grin he always used to charm me. “The guys really want to watch it here. They can’t wait to see the new TV setup. It’ll be fun.”
Fun? Not for me. “You know how I feel about them, Ethan. Every time they come over, it’s like I’m living in a frat house. I’m not cleaning up after them anymore.”
His smile faded. “It’s just one night, Dani. I barely get to see them because of work. Come on, just go upstairs or something. Don’t be like this.”
But I wasn’t about to give in. “No. They’re not coming here.”
He tried again, his voice softer this time. “Please? I’ll handle all the cleaning. I swear. Why don’t you invite your friends over? You can hang out in the hot tub while we watch the game.”
I didn’t answer, and neither did he. But deep down, I knew what was coming.
A few days later, on the night of the big game, Ethan hadn’t brought it up again. I thought maybe he had finally listened to me. He even bought me flowers while we were grocery shopping that day, asking me what I wanted for dinner like everything was completely normal.
He suggested we order takeout, and I happily agreed. “Fried chicken and fries sound perfect,” I said, not suspecting a thing.
Just as we were settling in for the evening, Ethan asked, “Can you grab the six-pack of beer from the basement fridge?”
“Sure,” I said. “Let me finish drying my nails first.”
I didn’t think twice when I heard him talking on the phone as I made my way down to the basement to get the beer. Little did I know, his friends were already on their way, and Ethan had something sneaky planned.
As I reached the top of the basement stairs with the six-pack in hand, the door slammed shut behind me. I tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Ethan?” I called, rattling the door. Silence. “Ethan!” I shouted louder. Still no answer.
That’s when I heard it—the unmistakable sound of laughter, muffled voices, and the game blaring from the living room. My heart dropped. He had locked me down here.
I pounded on the door, yelling his name again, but it was useless. He and his friends were having a great time, and I was stuck in the basement. Minutes stretched into an hour, and there was no way out.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the door creaked open. There stood Ethan, acting completely casual, like nothing had happened.
“Oh, Dani! I didn’t realize you were down here. I must’ve accidentally locked the door. You know I always lock the basement door out of habit,” he said with a fake laugh.
“An accident?” I repeated, my anger rising.
“Yeah, I didn’t hear you,” he said, completely ignoring the mess he had just caused.
I stormed past him without saying a word and marched upstairs. The sight that greeted me made my blood boil—his friends were sprawled on the couch, surrounded by empty beer bottles and chicken bones. He hadn’t accidentally locked me in the basement. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Ethan tried to smooth things over. “Babe, I’m sorry. The chicken’s all gone, but I can make you a grilled cheese or something.”
I ignored him and went straight to bed. My anger was too deep to express in words at that moment. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me snap. Not yet.
Instead, I waited. A few nights later, when Ethan was fast asleep, I quietly slipped out of bed. I grabbed something I had prepared earlier—a small tank with two harmless snakes, thanks to my brother, who was a big fan of reptiles.
Ethan had always been terrified of snakes. My brother knew what had happened, and he was more than happy to lend me his pets, knowing they would help teach Ethan a lesson.
I cracked open the bedroom door and released the snakes, watching as they slithered across the carpet and disappeared under the bed. Then, I went downstairs, grabbed a blanket, and curled up on the couch, waiting for the fun to begin.
I called Ethan, waking him from his sleep.
“What? What is it?” he mumbled, groggy and confused.
“You might want to wake up,” I said, keeping my voice calm.
“What are you talking about? Where are you?” he asked, sounding even more confused.
“There’s something in the room with you. Actually, a couple of things.”
There was a brief pause before I heard a loud thud, followed by a terrified gasp. “Oh my God, Danielle! What did you do? There’s something in here with me!” he screamed, his voice filled with panic.
I could almost picture him flailing around in the dark, completely helpless, just like I had been in the basement. It was poetic justice.
“Danielle! Please! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to lock you in the basement! Please, let me out!” he begged, his voice trembling with fear.
I let him panic for a while, savoring the sound of his frantic pleas. After a couple of hours, I finally went back upstairs and opened the door.
There he was, standing on the bed, pale and shaking.
“Try pulling a stunt like that again,” I said, my voice as cold as ice, “and you’ll be out of my house and my life before you know it.”
He nodded, too scared to even say a word.
