After two exhausting months at my father’s bedside, I finally returned home—only to hear my front door unlocking. A young woman confidently entered as if she belonged there. When I confronted her, she calmly stated, “Michael gave me the key.”
The scent of an unfamiliar perfume lingered in the air, but I brushed it off, too drained from my time at the hospital to question it. All I wanted was a shower and some rest. But moments later, the sound of the door opening again sent my heart racing.
I grabbed the nearest object—a carved wooden horse—and turned to face the intruder. She was elegant, poised, and carrying an expensive handbag that probably cost more than my wardrobe. Her sharp gaze locked onto me, and with an air of irritation, she asked, “Who are you?”
Shocked, I shot back, “I live here. Who are you?”
She studied me for a moment before replying, “Michael gave me a key. He told me to make myself at home.”
My stomach dropped. Michael—my husband. The same man who barely visited me at the hospital. The man I had trusted completely.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “Well, I’m his wife, and you need to leave.”
Her face paled. “Wife? He told me he was single…” She hesitated before whispering, “I should go.”
But something inside me snapped. “No. Come with me.”
We walked into the kitchen, where Michael was casually sipping coffee. The woman froze and frowned. “Who’s that?”
Michael looked up and greeted us with a friendly smile. “Morning! And you are…?”
Fury boiled inside me. “This woman used a key to enter our home.”
Michael’s face twisted in confusion. “Wait, what?”
The woman shook her head, her voice laced with realization. “That’s not my Michael. My Michael gave me a key. I’ve been here before—I even broke a perfume bottle on the bathroom floor.”
That explained the lingering scent. But then, who was her Michael?
I demanded, “Show us a picture.”
She hesitantly pulled out her phone, and my jaw dropped.
“Jason?” I exclaimed, looking at Michael. “Your reckless 24-year-old brother?”
Michael groaned. “I let Jason stay here while I was away for work. I gave him a key… I had no idea he was pulling this.”
The woman crossed her arms, furious. “That explains why he’s been ignoring my calls. I’ve been completely deceived.”
Anger surged through me. “So while I was caring for my sick father, Jason was treating our home like his personal love nest? And you never checked on him?”
Michael sighed, rubbing his face. “You’re right. I should’ve been more responsible.”
I turned to the woman. “Don’t worry—we’ll handle this.”
After she left, I dialed Jason with icy resolve. “I just reported an intruder to the police. Guess whose name I gave?”
Michael caught on and added, “Oh, and she’s filing a fraud report against you.”
Jason stammered out apologies, but Michael cut him off. “You’re banned from our home. Don’t ever ask to stay here again.”
Still seething, I grabbed my coat. “Come on, Michael. We’re going shopping—for new locks.”