IWalked in to Find My Husband with His Ex-Wife in Our House — What She Was Doing There Made Me Go Feral
Imagine anticipating quiet when you arrive home from a long day to discover your husband and his ex-wife in your living room. That is precisely what transpired with me. However, Melissa wasn’t there to converse. She was doing things that I could never have imagined.
Have you ever had the sense of coming home from a long day of meetings and deadlines? All you want to do is hop in the shower, throw on some new jammies, and crawl into your warm, comfortable bed. It’s the most amazing sensation ever.
It was exactly how I felt two weeks ago when I arrived home from work. My bed, a steaming cup of coffee, and the true-crime documentary I’d been watching were all I wanted. I had planned to watch episode 3, but when I walked in, I was completely distracted by what I saw.
I unlocked the door, hung up the car keys, and started to head for my room when I saw something out of the ordinary. I honestly believed at first that I was imagining things since it felt too strange to be genuine.
It dawned on me that the bookcase had disappeared along with the couch and rug. It turned out that most of the goods were missing when I looked in the kitchen and hallway. Where was the coat closet? The coffee maker has vanished. Gone is the dining table!
How absurd is that? I pondered. Roger is where?
My husband Roger generally got home before me, but I never saw him. Then I heard what sounded like a yell coming from him. It came from where the hallway ended. from the living room.
I threw my luggage upon the kitchen island and paid attention to what he said. I could hear another voice in the corridor as I drew nearer. It was the voice of a woman.
I pulled the door wide, unprepared for what I saw: my husband and Melissa, his ex-wife. Roger vowed he would never meet the woman again, calling her “a filthy rich spoiled brat.”
My heart seemed to have sprung to my throat. Melissa was in my home, but why?
“Roger?” I said, cutting them off in their chat. “What? What became of our home?”
“Oh, Liz, you’re here?” As though he hadn’t expected me, Roger asked.
“Yes, I recently returned,” I said. “What’s she doing here?”
“I’ll elucidate every detail,” Roger faltered. “I’ll fix it, I swear.”
Roger was pleading with me to remain composed, and Melissa was just grinning. Up until Melissa said something that made me feel utterly furious, I was pretty certain that they were having an affair.
“You won’t,” she angrily remarked to Roger. “Didn’t you tell her that everything you owned is mine?”
“I… I…” Roger stumbled, unable to find words.
“Well, honey,” she turned to face me. “Every piece of furniture here is mine. You see, I’m only reclaiming what’s rightfully mine because your spouse and I purchased it together when we were married.”
How come? I pondered. How does she view her own self?
She was behaving as though it was no big issue, virtually wrecking my house.
I distinctly recall spending a few moments staring at her, wondering what kind of horrible person would break into their ex’s home and remove the majority of their furniture.
I wanted to shout, to get rid of her, but I was unable to. Not while Roger did nothing except watch in silence as she degraded me.
“And you’re letting her take everything?” When I did manage to speak, I met Roger’s eyes directly. “You made no attempt to stop her at all? How come you didn’t let me know she was coming? You were aware, correct?
“I apologize,” he said, lowering his eyes. He couldn’t bear to look at me at all.
“Really, Roger? Is that all? I rolled my eyes. You letting your ex go with our entire life? That’s something I never expected! This is absurd.”
“Ridiculous?” Melissa chuckled. “I apologize, but in theory, everything in your home is mine. even the bed you both sleep on. I have every right to accept this stuff because I paid for it all.”
Yes, exactly, I said to myself.
If I claimed that I’ve never felt so ashamed in my life, that would be accurate. You have no idea how much patience it took me to quit making fun of Melissa.
I could have given her the lowdown on all the terrible secrets Roger had revealed to me about Melissa, but I wasn’t going to sink to her level. I refused to be inconsiderate.
I wanted to ask her then why she could afford a brand-new bed set and the newest model of automatic coffee maker yet she still needed this old, used furniture.
Owning one of the most well-liked companies in the community, she was well-off and could afford a completely furnished home.
However, I was aware of her motivation. It was all meant to make me look bad. Her jealousy was evident in her eyes.
“Okay,” I spit out. “Accept it. Take everything you have. But never again dare you get in touch with my spouse or myself!”
“Sure, honey,” she said with a sly smile, seemingly having won the greatest thing she had ever seen.
I observed her moving in the direction of the main door and calling the employees inside to retrieve the remaining furnishings. Then, in our backyard, I noticed a truck loaded with the furniture that the laborers had previously hauled.
Roger, meantime, watched in silence as the laborers tore apart our house. He shared my grief and helplessness.
At that point, I devised a scheme to make Melissa second-guess her choice.
I dashed into the kitchen and grabbed some frozen shrimp from the freezer just as she was going outside to check on the vehicle. I then hastily concealed them in a few locations, such as our mattress, the chairs in the living room, and our side table.
I even tucked a couple of them into the accent pillows. It took me just a few days to witness the shrimps working their magic.
I knew that she wouldn’t keep this furniture in her home, as you can see. She was most likely going to throw it in a storage container, and I was excited to watch how these tiny bits of flesh would explode in a stink bomb in there.
With the last piece of furniture being placed into the truck, Melissa took one last, smug look around to make sure she had ruined our house beyond recognition.
With my arms crossed, I added, “I hope you’ve taken everything that’s YOURS.”
She gave a nod. Yes, honey, I’m done. I apologize for the trouble this has caused.
Sure, I thought, I’m sorry.
And with that, Melissa parked her gleaming SUV outside our house. Roger, meantime, was sitting on the ground, his hands resting on his head.
He said, “I’m so sorry,” with tears streaming down his face. “I truly apologize. I was at a loss on how to tell you. I didn’t realize she was serious when she told me she would come over over the phone a few days ago. I didn’t think she would treat us like this.”
With a sigh, I took a seat beside him.
I stroked his arms and murmured, “It’s alright, babe.” “I wouldn’t want to live in a house furnished by your ex-wife anyway.”
I could have screamed at Roger at that time, put all the blame on him, and made him feel bad about the circumstances, but I realized that was beyond his control. Besides, Melissa had exactly that in mind.
She was hoping for us to fight and fall apart, and I was not going to fulfill her wish.
“Instead of apologizing, I want you to buy me new furniture, okay?” I laughed. “Anything I choose. I wish to restore the sense of home in this place.”
“I’ll do that,” he grinned as he turned to face me. “I’ll purchase any and all furniture you choose. I swear.”
I gave him a firm grip on his hand.
“I love you, Roger, and I’ll always be there for you,” I replied. “We’ll get through this together.”
That night, as we lay on the bedroom floor, it occurred to me that I didn’t need Melissa’s furniture to create a homey atmosphere in my space. All I had to worry about was Roger.
However, the tale is not over yet.
A few days later, I came onto a post in one of the local groups on Facebook while perusing through the feed. Melissa sent it, and it was obvious how desperate she was.
IMMEDIATELY NEEDED HELP! Is there a way to get rid of the awful smell of rotting meat in furniture? After moving some old furniture into a storage facility, it began to smell after someone died a few days later.
Nothing seems to work, even after I’ve tried using baking soda, deep cleaning, and airing it out! It’s so stinking bad that I can’t even enter the storage area without throwing up. I’m losing my mind over this, please, if anyone has any advice!
Reading her agitated post made me laugh out loud. She lost everything—her riches, her pride—because of a few pieces of shrimp that were buried.
The sweetest kind of retaliation. chilled when served.
If you had been in my position, how would you have responded?