So, I’m a project manager for a construction company, and whenever we land a big project out of town, I have to head there for the entire duration. This time, it was a two-and-a-half-month gig.

Every day, my husband and I would chat, and he’d tell me how much he missed me and couldn’t wait to have me back. But then I got a call from my neighbor.

“Hey, there’s some woman living in your house. She’s been there for about two weeks!” she said. This sounded seriously sketchy. I asked if she’d seen my husband with this woman, and unfortunately, the answer was “YES.” I couldn’t handle the thought of it, so I booked the first flight back home.

I got to my house in the middle of the night, armed with everything I needed to serve up some revenge on these two. I quietly unlocked the door, slipped inside, and made my way to the bedroom where they were cuddled up.

My heart pounded in my chest. I could hear them breathing, completely unaware that I was just feet away. I reached for the light switch and flicked it on. “What the hell is going on here?” I shouted.

My husband jolted awake, eyes wide with panic. The woman beside him sat up, her face pale. But then something strange happened—she didn’t look guilty. She looked… scared.

“Who are you?” she whispered, clutching the blanket around her.

I scoffed. “I should be asking you that! This is my house!” I turned to my husband. “Care to explain?”

He was breathing heavily, looking between me and the woman like he couldn’t make sense of anything. “Honey… I don’t know what’s happening. I thought you were gone. I thought this was just—”

“Just what?” I demanded.

The woman stared at me with wide, confused eyes. “This… this is my house.”

The words sent a shiver down my spine. “What are you talking about?”

She swallowed hard. “Your husband let me stay here. He said the house was empty for a while. That it was safe.”

I turned to my husband, rage bubbling inside me. “What is she talking about? Who is she?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking more confused than guilty. “I— I rented out the house.”

My breath caught in my throat. “You… WHAT?”

“You were gone for months! I thought—” he stammered. “I thought it would be a good idea to make some extra money. She needed a place. I figured it was harmless.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “You let a stranger live in our house? And you didn’t tell me?”

The woman cut in. “Wait. He told me this was his house. He said his wife passed away.”

Silence fell over the room. I could feel my own heartbeat echoing in my ears.

“What?” I finally whispered.

My husband turned pale. “No. No, that’s not—”

The woman climbed out of bed, wrapping the blanket around herself. “I’ve been paying him rent. Every week. I—I had no idea he was lying.”

I took a step back. Everything was spinning. “You mean to tell me… you’ve been paying him?”

She nodded. “Yes. I thought I was renting a room in a widower’s house. He said he was lonely. That he just wanted company.”

Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I looked at my husband, the man I had trusted for years, and saw nothing but a liar. “You let me believe you missed me, while you were running some kind of scam?”

He shook his head desperately. “It wasn’t like that. I swear, I just—”

“Save it.” I turned to the woman. “Pack your things. You don’t have to go right now, but this is my house, and I’m not leaving.”

She nodded quickly, eyes still full of shock.

I walked out of the bedroom, my whole body shaking. My mind was spinning. I had come home expecting to catch a cheater. Instead, I had uncovered something even worse—a liar, a manipulator, and a man who had let another woman live in my house while selling her a story about a dead wife.

I stood in the kitchen, gripping the counter to steady myself. I had spent years loving this man, believing in him. And now I had no idea who he really was.

The question now was… what was I going to do about it?