My Husband ‘Accidentally’ Locked Me in the Basement to Watch Basketball with His Friends at Our House
Dani is intolerant of her husband’s pals. She dismisses the idea of bringing them over to watch a basketball game when Ethan brings it up. Dani goes into the basement to buy a pack of beer on the evening of the game, but before she knows it, she’s imprisoned inside. What takes place after that?…
I ought to have declined right away. Not only when Ethan mentioned that his friends might visit for dinner. I mean, way before then, when I first became aware of how terrible things were. To be honest, I think I made it quite plain that I didn’t detest them, even though I never stated so out loud.
However, my spouse, Ethan?
He is very dissimilar from these guys. He is 35 years old, a successful manager at a tech firm, yet he still keeps in touch with the folks he went to high school with for reasons I will never understand.
They are entirely unlike Ethan—loud, uncivilized, and disrespectful. All of these are the things he left behind after becoming successful.
other than, perhaps, his commitment to them.
He replied, “Dani, it’s just one game,” as he sat in the kitchen that evening, grinning hopeful. “This is where the guys truly want to watch the game. They can’t wait to view our new TV arrangement. It will be enjoyable.”
I groaned and tried not to freak out. I could practically see the terrible evening playing out. I anticipated that Ethan’s pals would take over the home and ruin every conversation with offensive remarks.
“You already know how I feel about them, Ethan. It feels like a frat house is transformed into our house each and every time they visit. I’m not going to mop up after them anymore. It isn’t taking place.
My spouse’s expression fell, with a wounded pride flashing in his eyes.
“Danielle, it’s just one night. Because of work, I don’t get to see them very often. Come on, go upstairs or do something else. Be not like this.
“No,” I replied. “They’re not coming here.”
“Please?” Ethan scowled and inquired. “I’ll take care of all the cleaning before and after, I swear to you. There will be nothing for you to do. How about you ask your girls over? You guys can catch up or do anything else by using the outside hot tub.”
I remained silent. Nor did Ethan say anything more.
He simply returned to his pasta bowl and chewed silently.
It was obvious what was going to happen next.
A few days afterward, it took place.
Ethan had not mentioned anything about it, even though it was Saturday night—the night of the big game. He was the epitome of the perfect husband—he even stopped to purchase me a bouquet of flowers when we were grocery shopping together.
He said to me as we were driving home, “What do you want for dinner tonight?”
“Anything that doesn’t involve me cooking,” I said.
Ethan laughed.
“Okay, let’s see what we can do.”
Ethan ultimately made the decision that we would order takeaway for supper.
“I don’t feel like cooking either,” he remarked. “So, I ordered a lot of fried chicken and fries.”
“That sounds amazing,” I remarked. “And when I regret this in the morning, just go with the flow.”
“Agree,” Ethan chuckled. “Do you think you could get the six-pack of beer from the basement fridge?”
Yes, I replied. “I’ll head out shortly. All I want is for my nails to dry.”
I didn’t really notice that Ethan was talking on his phone when he headed into the living room after giving me nod. He hadn’t brought up the game once more, which pleased me, and I was even planning to sit with him when it was on.
Before going to the basement, I gave my nails one more blowout.
I called to Ethan, saying, “I’m going to the basement.” “Pay attention for the delivery guy!”
I proceeded down the stairs into the dimly lighted, frigid room where we kept extra drinks in the spare fridge, and he waved me off, hardly even looking at me.
For some time now, I’d been attempting to convert the basement into a private reading retreat, but every time I invested large sums of money in it, I felt bad about it right after. There were now two vacant bookshelves and a comfortable couch.
I turned around to go up the stairs, saying to myself, “Got you,” as I grabbed the six-pack.
The basement door banged behind me as I was almost all the way up.
I blinked in the unexpected gloom. It was strange.
“Ethan?” I exclaimed.
Despite my attempts, the door handle remained fixed.
“Ethan!” I called once again, more insistently. Not a response. I gave the handle a louder rattle. locked even now. My stomach turned over.
It couldn’t have happened by coincidence that he had shut me down here.
I gave the door a loud rap.
“Ethan! There’s no humor in this! “Open the door!”
Nothing.
I stood listening for a moment. I could hear laughter, muffled voices, and the TV blazing with the indisputable sound of hoops commentary.
My teeth were clenched. Here were his friends. Those cretins were here, of course. I told him no, and he brought them over.
He also kept me trapped in the basement.
The minutes seemed to drag on forever, becoming an hour. I did everything to gain someone’s attention, including screaming and banging on the door.
However, it was useless.
Ethan was there, watching the game with his friends, completely oblivious to me. I had nowhere to put my phone to get aid. I was unable to move.
Eventually, after what seemed like an age, the door clicked open. Ethan was standing there, casually nonchalant, as if he’d just made a small slip-up.
“Oh, Dani! “There you are!” he exclaimed, feigning laughter. “I had no idea you were here! I must have unintentionally locked it. You know, locking the basement door is just a habit.”
“An accident?” With my blood boiling, I repeated.
He smiled and said, “Yeah, I didn’t hear you, Dani.”
When my spouse entered the living room, I noticed that his buddies were still kicking back on the couch. There were two empty barrels of fried chicken, empty chip packets, and beer bottles everywhere. After the game, the victorious squad was shown celebrating on TV.
He hadn’t heard me, of course. That’s where he wanted me to be.
Ethan apologized, “babe.” “The chicken has been cooked through. I can, however, make you a sandwich with toasted cheese. perhaps try something like eggs on toast.”
I brushed past him and went right upstairs without saying another word.
I refused to talk to any of Ethan’s buddies. I refused to give Ethan any more of my time. Despite my anger, I knew better than to scream. Not at that moment, Ethan would not comprehend. No, he would feel guilty for a while, but ultimately, he would just justify himself further.
I chose to wait instead. I made a plan.
A few nights later, I snuck out of our bedroom after Ethan had fallen asleep in bed and was snoring lightly. I went downstairs in silence and took out a little tank that I had received from my brother earlier in the day.
There were two small, harmless snakes within.
Snakes frightened Ethan. My brother loved them, and he was utterly scared of them. He was more than happy to support my proposal after I informed him what Ethan had done.
“My babies will get the job done, Sis,” he said.
I carefully propped open the bedroom door just enough to allow the snakes to enter. As they slithered across the carpet, they vanished from sight. After that, I went outside and locked the door.
It was lyrical.
After setting everything up, I walked downstairs and curled up with a blanket on the couch. I called Ethan and rang his phone to wake him up.
“What?” he questioned, sounding irritated and sleepy.
I grinned to myself as I fixed my gaze on the ceiling.
I said, “You might want to wake up.”
“What topic are you discussing? “Where have you gone?”
“There’s something in the room with you,” I quietly remarked. “A couple of things, actually.”
“What did you do?” Ethan bellowed.
A thump and a piercing gasp reached my ears.
“Oh my God, Danielle, what the heck? Please let me leave this place! “Danielle, what on earth is this place?”
He was squirming around in the dark, afraid, and I could almost see it. At last, he was the one confined and feeling powerless, and it felt good.
He let out a loud yell, “Danielle!” “Please, darling! Please! I really apologize. It wasn’t right of me to do that! Please let me go.”
I listened to his cries while letting him perspire for a time. He sounded so pitiful. I eventually made my way back upstairs after listening to him beg for about two hours.
My spouse was standing in the center of the bed when I opened the door.
I said, “Try that move again.” “And you’ll be out of my house and my life before you know it.”
How would you have responded in that situation?