My Stepmom Broke My New TV After I Said We Couldn't Afford Buying Her One – But Karma Was Listening

When my stepmom "accidentally" destroyed the TV I'd saved for over a year to buy, she thought she'd gotten away with the perfect crime. But sometimes the universe has other plans, and what happened to her a month later made me believe in karma again.

Life at 23 isn't exactly what I imagined it would be when I was younger. I'm living in a tiny one-bedroom apartment across town from where I grew up, working an entry-level job at a marketing firm that barely covers my rent and groceries.

My dad lives about 20 minutes away with Patricia, the woman he married two years ago.

They have this nice house in the suburbs with a two-car garage and a garden. It's the kind of place I used to dream about having someday, but for now, my little apartment is exactly where I need to be.

I lost my mom when I was 15. Cancer took her after a brutal two-year fight that drained our family emotionally and financially.

After Mom passed away, Dad and I became incredibly close.

He was my rock during those terrible months when grief felt like it might swallow me whole.

Dad has always been there for me, and he was super supportive when I told him about my decision to move out at 18 for college, even though I knew he was lonely in that big, empty house.

College was hard but good. I studied communications, worked part-time jobs to pay for textbooks and groceries, and slowly learned how to be an adult on my own terms.

Dad and I stayed close, talking on the phone every few days and meeting for lunch whenever our schedules allowed.

About two years ago, Dad called me with news I definitely wasn't expecting.

"Lily, honey, there's something I need to tell you," he said. "I've been seeing someone. Her name is Patricia, and we've been dating for about six months now. I know this might be a surprise, but I wanted you to hear it from me first."

My heart did this weird flip thing in my chest.

Part of me was happy that Dad had found companionship after being alone for so long. But another part of me felt protective of Mom's memory and worried about how this would change our relationship.

"Dad, that's... that's great," I managed to say. "I want you to be happy. When do I get to meet her?"

"Actually," he continued, and I could hear the smile in his voice, "we're thinking about getting married. Patricia makes me feel alive again in a way I didn't think was possible after losing your mother."

That's how I learned about Patricia for the first time.

Within three months, they were married in a small ceremony at City Hall with just a few close friends and family members present.

For the most part, everything worked out fine after the wedding. Since I was living independently and only saw them on holidays and occasional Sunday dinners, Patricia and I didn't have many opportunities for conflict.

She seemed to make Dad happy, and that was what mattered most to me.

Until I bought a TV.

The thing is, I'd been saving for over a year for a nice flat-screen TV.

Every month, I'd put aside whatever money I could spare after paying rent, utilities, and groceries. I skipped coffee runs with friends, cooked at home instead of ordering takeout, and even sold some old clothes and textbooks online to add to my TV fund.

It wasn't easy living without much entertainment, but I had a goal, and I was determined to reach it through my hard work and discipline.

Finally, last month, I had enough money saved up.

I spent hours researching different models online, reading reviews, and comparing prices before settling on a beautiful 43-inch smart TV that had everything I wanted.

The day I brought it home and set it up in my living room was honestly one of the happiest moments I'd had in months.

Now, Patricia is the kind of person who always wants to keep things equal, but somehow that equality only seems to work in her favor.

If she sees someone with something nice, she suddenly needs it too, and she has this way of making you feel guilty if you don't immediately offer to help her get the same thing.

A week after I got my TV, Patricia and Dad came over for dinner.

The moment Patricia walked through my front door, her eyes went straight to the TV like it was a magnet. She stopped mid-conversation about the traffic on the way over and just stared at it.

"Ohhh, now THIS is nice," she said, walking directly over to it and running her hand along the sleek black frame like she was inspecting it for scratches or defects. "Look at this picture quality, Arnold. You can see everything so clearly."

Dad smiled and nodded approvingly. "Lily's been saving up for this for months. She worked really hard to get it."

"You know, ours is getting kind of old," Patricia continued, not really acknowledging what Dad had said about my hard work. "The colors aren't as bright as they used to be, and sometimes the sound cuts out. You should tell your dad to get me one like this, Lily."

I laughed politely, thinking she was just making conversation. "Yeah, maybe someday when you guys have some extra money lying around. But they're definitely not cheap."

Patricia turned to me with this weird half-smile I'd never seen before.

"Well, you could help out, right? I mean, you've already got yours now. It would be nice if you contributed to getting your father and me something similar."

I honestly thought she had to be joking.

"Patricia, I literally saved for over a year to get this one," I said. "I can barely afford my own bills right now. There's no way I could just buy another one."

Her smile dropped instantly, and her whole demeanor changed like someone had flipped a switch. The friendly, conversational Patricia disappeared, replaced by someone cold and calculating.

"Ungrateful," she muttered under her breath, but loud enough that both Dad and I could hear her clearly. "After everything your father and I do for you."

I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment and confusion. What exactly did she think they did for me?

I paid my own rent, bought my own groceries, and had been supporting myself completely since I graduated from college.

"Patricia, I don't understand what you mean," I said carefully, trying not to let the hurt show in my voice. "I take care of myself. I'm not asking anyone for anything."

Dad looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Let's just eat," he said quickly. "Lily, I'm starving."

I tried to brush off Patricia's comment and focus on having a nice dinner with them, but the atmosphere had shifted completely. She spent the rest of the evening making little remarks about how "nice it must be" to have new things and how some people "forget about family" once they get what they want.

When they finally left that night, Patricia made a point of stopping in front of the TV one more time.

"Enjoy it while you can," she said with that same fake smile. "These things don't last forever, you know."

At the time, I thought she was just making some generic comment about electronics breaking down eventually.

Now I realize she was telling me exactly what she planned to do.

Two weeks later, Patricia came by my apartment again.

This time, she said she was dropping off some mail that had been accidentally delivered to their house instead of mine. The timing was perfect because I was at work, so she used the spare key I'd given Dad for emergencies.

When I got home that evening around 6 p.m., I immediately noticed something was wrong.

Then, I saw my TV.

The screen was completely shattered. Not just cracked in one corner from a small accident, not scratched from something brushing against it.

The entire screen was destroyed, with spider web cracks spreading from what looked like multiple impact points, like someone had hit it with something heavy over and over again.

I stood there staring at it for several minutes, trying to process what I was seeing.

There was no way this was an accident. The TV had been sitting securely on its stand against the wall, exactly where I'd left it that morning.

My hands were shaking as I pulled out my phone and called Dad's number, hoping there was some explanation that would make sense of this nightmare.

The phone rang three times before Patricia answered, which was unusual since I was calling Dad's cell phone directly.

"Hello, Lily," she said in this overly sweet voice that immediately put me on edge. "How was your day at work?"

"Patricia, where's Dad? I need to talk to him right away."

"He's in the shower right now. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Someone broke into my apartment today and destroyed my TV. Since you were the only person who had access to my apartment with the spare key, I need to know what happened."

There was a pause on the other end.

"Oh, that. Yeah, I'm so sorry, honey. It was a total accident. I was trying to do you a favor by dusting your living room while I was there, and the cloth just slipped out of my hand. I must have knocked something into the screen."

Yeah, right, I thought. The screen's completely demolished. This doesn't happen accidentally.

"Patricia, this isn't from dusting. The entire screen is destroyed. What really happened?"

"I already told you it was an accident," she said sternly. "I feel terrible about it, obviously, but these things happen."

"Can you please put Dad on the phone now?"

"He's still in the shower, but I'll have him call you back when he's done."

She hung up before I could respond, leaving me standing in my living room staring at the wreckage of something I'd worked so hard to buy.

When Dad finally called me back an hour later, he sounded awkward and uncomfortable, like he already knew this conversation wasn't going to go well.

"Lily, sweetheart, Patricia told me what happened. She feels absolutely terrible about the accident."

"Dad, this wasn't an accident. Look, I know you love Patricia, but she destroyed my TV on purpose. The damage is way too extensive for this to be from dusting."

"She said it was an accident, and I have to believe my wife. But we'll figure out a way to help you replace it, okay? Maybe we can all go shopping together next weekend."

I felt tears starting to form in my eyes. Dad was choosing to believe Patricia's obviously false story over his own daughter's reasonable concerns.

"Dad, she came here while I was at work, with the spare key you gave her, and she intentionally broke the one nice thing I've managed to buy for myself. How can you not see that?"

"I'm not going to have this conversation with you right now, Lily. Patricia said it was an accident, and that's the end of it."

He hung up, and I realized that Patricia had already gotten to him with her version of events.

Over the next week, things got even worse.

Patricia apparently called Dad's sister, his brother, and several family friends to tell them her sugary version of what had happened.

According to her story, she was doing me this wonderful favor by cleaning my apartment, accidentally broke my TV, and felt so terrible that she immediately offered to replace it.

But then, she claimed, I was "cold" and "hostile" toward her, and I was "holding it over her head" like she'd done it on purpose.

My cousins and my aunt called me, asking why I was being unreasonable. That stung more than I expected because these were the people who'd known me my entire life.

How could they believe Patricia's made-up story?

For the next month, I lived with a broken TV and a family that had been turned against me by Patricia's lies. I couldn't afford to replace it, and every time I looked at the shattered screen, I felt angry and helpless.

But here's where the story gets interesting, and where I started believing in karma again.

About a month after my TV was destroyed, Dad called me out of the blue on a Monday evening. He sounded frustrated and stressed.

"Lily, you're not going to believe what happened," he said without even bothering with small talk. "The washing machine flooded the entire laundry room. Ruined the hardwood floors, damaged the walls, and destroyed a bunch of stored boxes in the closet. The water soaked through into the kitchen and living room, too."

I could hear Patricia arguing with someone in the background.

"How did that happen?" I asked.

"Insurance says it's because someone messed with the settings and left the machine running with the door open. They're calling it negligence, so they won't cover any of the repairs."

I didn't even have to ask who was doing laundry that day.

Dad continued, "Patricia was talking to her friend Janet on the phone, bragging about how she was doing five different household tasks at once to be super efficient. She completely forgot the machine was running and left the door open while she went upstairs to organize the bedroom."

"So what does this mean for you guys?" I asked.

"It means we have to pay for all the repairs ourselves. New floors, wall repairs, and replacing everything that got water damaged. Patricia's going to have to use her fun money savings to cover it."

Her fun money savings. The same money she'd wanted me to contribute to so she could buy a TV just like mine.

"Wow, Dad. That's really rough. I'm sorry that happened to you guys."

"Yeah, well. These things happen, I guess."

When Dad told me the full amount of the damage, I did some quick math in my head. Patricia was going to have to spend about three times what my TV had cost to fix the mess she'd created with her own negligence.

I hung up the phone and looked at my broken TV screen, and for the first time in weeks, I smiled.

I'm not saying I was happy that Dad had to deal with the stress and expense of major home repairs.

But I can't lie and say it didn't feel like the universe had evened the score a little bit.

Sometimes karma works in mysterious ways, and sometimes it works exactly the way you hope it will.

If you enjoyed reading this story, here's another one you might like: I never imagined that the man my mother trusted with her heart would become the person who tried to steal her final moments from me. My stepfather tried his best to erase me from my mom's life, but what she had been secretly planning was something he never saw coming.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided "as is," and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.