When I found myself on the street without access to my own home, I knew my marriage was over. But what my cheating husband didn’t know was that I was about to teach him a lesson he would never forget.
‘Jason, it’s almost nine. You promised to be home by six,’ I tried to hide the hurt in my voice as my husband tossed his keys on the table without even looking at me.
‘Work has been horrible, Alice. What do you want me to do? Tell the boss I need to leave early?’ – Jason loosened his tie, walking past the table where I’d prepared a small celebratory dinner for myself. There were two candles next to the cake I’d bought on my lunch break.
‘Yes, exactly,’ I said, crossing my arms. ‘That’s what you could do. For once. Especially after you promised. It’s my birthday, Jason.’
He finally looked down at the table and realised what he’d done. ‘Oh, no. I forgot.’
‘Obviously.’
‘Well, don’t be like that,’ Jason ran a hand through his hair. ‘I work for us, you know that.’
I let out a fake laugh.
‘For us?’ – I repeated. ‘You’re not even here, Jason. We hardly ever talk. When was the last time we had dinner together? Or watched a film? Or do anything as a couple?’
‘That’s not fair. I’m building my career so we can have a good future together.’
‘What future? We live separately in the same house.’ I felt the tears coming up, but I didn’t let them fall. ‘I make more money than you, so let’s not pretend this is about our security.’
Jason’s face froze. ‘Of course you’ll remind me of that. God, how I wish I could catch up with my successful wife.’
‘That’s not what I…’
‘That’s enough, it’s time for me to go to bed,’ he said, and walked away, leaving me standing by my sad little party.
I blew out the candles and promised myself that things would get better.
He was my husband. I loved him. There are hard times in marriage, aren’t there? That’s what everyone said.
I didn’t realise I’d regret forgiving him so easily.
Jason and I were married for three years, but the last year felt like a slow and painful breakup. We had no children (thankfully, given what was to come), and my job as marketing director provided the bulk of our income.
Meanwhile, Jason worked in sales and complained constantly about the pressure, the working hours, the commute… everything but what I later realised as the truth.
Three weeks after my ruined birthday party, I came home early with a massive headache. All I wanted to do was just collapse into bed with pain pills and silence.
As I pulled up to our house, I noticed something strange with our front door. As I got closer, I noticed that the brass door handle and lock had been replaced with a more stylish silver version.
‘That’s odd,’ I muttered.
When I inserted my key into the lock, it didn’t fit.
I tried again, twisting it around, but it was clearly the wrong size for the new lock. Puzzled, I checked that I was at the right house.
Of course I was right. This was my house.
And then I noticed the note taped to the door, written in Jason’s familiar handwriting.
‘This is no longer your home. Find somewhere else.’
I felt the ground slipping away from under my feet.
What the hell? – I thought.
Then I pounded on the door and screamed Jason’s name. Finally, the door opened, and my husband appeared in front of me.
Behind him stood a woman in my dressing gown.
‘You can’t be serious,’ I whispered, my voice shaking.
‘Listen,’ he grinned, folding his arms across his chest. ‘I’ve already moved on. Mia and I are together now, and we need a place to stay. You can go to someone else’s place.’
Mia. The same co-worker he’d assured him was ‘just a friend.’ And here she was, stepping closer, putting her hands on her hips.
‘I’ve packed your things into boxes,’ she said. ‘You can pick them up in the garage.’
I stared at them for a while, but then turned around and walked to my car.
Jason thought he could kick me out of the house and get away with it, but I knew I couldn’t let that happen. And for that, I needed a plan. A solid plan.
I knew exactly where I needed to go for it.
‘Alice? Oh, my God.’ My sister Paula opened the door, took one look at my crying face, and pulled me inside. ‘What’s wrong?’
I collapsed on her couch and the whole story came out through sobs.
‘That bastard,’ Paula hissed when I was done. ‘And that Mia wore your dressing gown?’
‘My birthday present from Mum,’ I said, wiping my eyes. ‘That cashmere one.’
Paula disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two glasses of wine.
‘Drink up,’ she commanded. ‘And then we’ll figure out what to do.’
‘What can I do? The house is registered in his name.’ I took a long sip. ‘The mortgage was put on his credit because mine was still recovering from grad school.’
Paula’s eyes narrowed. ‘But who made the payments?’
‘Both of us, but…’ I stopped talking, something clicking in my head. ‘I paid for everything else. Every piece of furniture. The kitchen renovation last year. All the appliances.’
‘Exactly,’ Paula said, smiling slowly. ‘So what exactly does Jason have besides an empty house?’
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the bank’s app. ‘I saved all the receipts. I’ve always kept track of our budget.’
‘Of course you have,’ Paula laughed. ‘Queen of the spreadsheets.’
For the first time since I’d seen the note on the door, I felt control come back to me. ‘They think they’ve won, don’t they?’
Paula clinked her glass with mine. ‘They don’t realise who they’ve messed with.’
The next morning I called my lawyer friend, Denise.
‘What he did is illegal,’ she told me over coffee. ‘You can’t just change the locks on your spouse, even if the house is in his name. You have a legal right of occupancy.’
‘I don’t want to go back there,’ I said firmly. ‘But I want what’s mine.’
Denise’s eyes glittered. ‘Then let’s make a list.’
The rest of the morning was spent making an inventory of everything I bought for our house. By lunchtime I had a detailed list with dates and prices.
‘That’s impressive,’ Denise nodded. ‘With those receipts, there’ll be no doubt what belongs to you.’
‘So I can just…take everything?’
‘Legally? Yes. Although I’d advise having a policeman around just in case, to avoid trespassing charges.’
I thought of Jason’s smug face. About Mia wearing my dressing gown. About how they thought they had all the power.
‘No,’ I said slowly. ‘I have a better idea.’
That afternoon, I called the transport company. The owner, Mike, sympathised with my situation.
‘We had a similar incident last year,’ he said. ‘A wife caught her husband cheating and wanted all her stuff taken while he was at work.’
‘That’s exactly what I needed,’ I said. ‘But with one difference. I want them there when it happens.’
I waited until Saturday, knowing that my husband and his little friend would be home. I told Mike to bring his crew in at noon.
As soon as Mike and his staff arrived, I knocked on the door and Jason opened it.
‘Hi, honey,’ I said sweetly. ‘I came to get my stuff.’
Before he could say anything, my movers rushed past him and started taking everything I owned.
Washing machine? Unplugged while washing, wet stuff dumped in a plastic bin.
Oven? Opened when the cake was baking in it. Mine now.
The bed they probably slept on? Disassembled and packed away.
My dressing table, my smart TV, my sofa they were lying on? Gone.
And the best part? Mia was just straightening her hair when my movers walked in.
I snatched the straightener out of her hands and grinned. ‘Sorry. It was my gift from my husband. You know when he was mine.’
‘You can’t take everything!’ – Jason shouted. ‘The movers are taking literally everything! What the hell is going on?’
I pulled out all the receipts I’d saved. ‘Actually, I can. Because unlike you, I pay for my own stuff.’
He just stood there, unable to say anything.
‘Oh, and by the way? You changed the locks while I was still legally living here?’ – I grinned. ‘That’s illegal. I could take it to court and make your life a living hell. But honestly, watching you two stand here, miserable, in an empty house is much more enjoyable.’
Mia shouted something, but I was already leaving as my movers loaded the last of my belongings into the car.
As I drove away, I saw them standing there. They looked terribly humiliated and furious.
Sometimes I think I was too cruel. But then I remember the note on the door. I remember how cruelly they changed the locks on someone who loved them. I remember my birthday dinner, cold and forgotten.
And I know I did exactly what I needed to do.
