I stood in my own hallway, **heart pounding, rage boiling in my veins.** My fingers clenched the handle of my suitcase as I tiptoed toward the bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast shadows under the doorframe.
I could hear **them** inside. **Laughing.** Whispering.
**My husband.** And **her.**
With one deep breath, I **kicked the door open.**
The woman shrieked, jerking upright in **my bed.** My husband scrambled out of the sheets, his eyes wide with shock. “Jenna?! What are you doing here?”
I threw my bag on the floor. **“What am I doing here? Oh, I don’t know, maybe just coming home to my OWN HOUSE?”**
The woman—brunette, about my age, wearing **my silk robe**—clutched the sheets to her chest.
I turned to my husband, **ice in my voice.** “Go on. Introduce us.”
He stammered, running a hand through his hair. “I can explain.”
The woman scooted to the edge of the bed. **“Wait—Jenna? As in… his WIFE?”**
Her face drained of color as realization hit.
I raised a brow. **She didn’t know.**
“Oh, honey,” I sighed dramatically, crossing my arms. “You thought you were his *girlfriend*, didn’t you?”
Her hands shook. “H-he told me he was divorced.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Wow, **classic.**” I turned to my husband. “So, Mark, how were you planning to explain *this* one? ‘Oops, babe, my wife just randomly showed up?’”
He opened his mouth, but **I wasn’t done.**
I reached into my coat pocket and **tossed a stack of papers onto the bed.**
**Divorce papers.** Signed. Notarized.
His mouth fell open. “Wait… what?”
“Oh, you thought I flew home to *cry* over you?” I said, tilting my head. “No, no, sweetheart. I flew home to take back what’s mine.”
I stepped toward **her**. “And you, you should probably pack up your things.” I grinned. **“This house is about to get a new owner.”**
The woman bolted. **Mark? He just stood there, stunned.**
As for me?