I stood at the front door of my own house in Manchester, holding a key that no longer fit the new lock, feeling my heart shatter into pieces. My marriage, which Id fought so hard to save, had crumbled in an instant. But my cheating husband and his mistress had no idea what was cominga lesson theyd never forget.
James, its nearly ten, Id said the night before, my voice trembling. You promised youd be home by seven.
He tossed his keys onto the side table without looking at me.
Work, Lucy. What am I supposed to tell my boss? That I need to rush home to my wife? His tone dripped with irritation, as if I were an inconvenience.
I swallowed hard, staring at the table Id set for a simple birthday dinner. Two candles flickered beside the cake Id bought on my lunch break.
Yes, James. Thats exactly what you couldve done. Just once, I said, crossing my arms to hold back the tears. Its my birthday.
Finally, he glanced at the table. His face twisted with realisation.
Bloody hell, Lucy, I forgot He ran a hand through his hair.
Obviously, I replied coldly, the pain choking me from the inside.
Dont start, he snapped. Im working for us, you know that.
I gave him a bitter smile.
For us? I shot back. Youre barely home, James. When was the last time we had dinner together? Watched a film? Talked like husband and wife?
Thats unfair, he scowled. Im building a career so we can have a future.
What future? We live like strangers under the same roof! My voice cracked. I earn more than you, so dont hide behind providing for the family.
His face hardened.
Right, you were bound to throw that in my face, he sneered. How am I supposed to keep up with my high-flying wife?
Thats not what I meant
Enough, Lucy. Im going to bed. He cut me off and walked away, leaving me alone with the cold cake and burnt-out candles.
I blew them out, whispering to myself that things would get better. He was my husband. I loved him. Marriages go through rough patches, dont they?
How wrong I was to forgive him so easily.
Wed been married for three years, but the last one had been a slow, painful unravelling. We had no childrenand looking back, I thanked my lucky stars for that. My job as a marketing director brought in most of our income, while James, a sales executive, constantly complained about stress, long hours, traffic everything except the truth, which I discovered too late.
Three weeks after my ruined birthday, I came home early with a splitting headache. All I wanted was a painkiller and my bed. But when I reached our house in the outskirts of Manchester, something felt off. The doorknob and lock, once brass, now gleamed with new silver metal.
What the? I muttered, sliding in my key. It didnt turn.
I tried again, but the key wouldnt budge. Confused, I checked the address. This was definitely my house.
Then I spotted a note taped to the door. Jamess familiar handwriting hit me like a punch: *This isnt your home anymore. Find somewhere else.*
The world spun. My blood turned to ice.
Youve got to be joking, I spat.
I pounded on the door, shouting his name. Finally, it opened. James stood there, and behind him, a woman wearing my cashmere dressing gowna gift from my mother.
Seriously? My voice shook with rage and hurt.
Lucy, listen, he crossed his arms, smirking. Ive moved on. Anna and I are together now. We need this place. Go stay with someone.
*Anna.* The same just a colleague hed been talking about for months. She stepped forward, hands on her hips, and sneered:
Your stuffs in boxes in the garage. Take it and leave.
I stared at them, unable to believe it. Then I turned on my heel and walked to my car, determination boiling inside me. They thought they could toss me out like rubbish and get away with it. But I wasnt about to roll over. I needed a plan. A ruthless, calculated one.
I knew exactly who to call.
Lucy? Oh my God, whats wrong? My sister Emily flung open her flat door, took one look at my tear-streaked face, and pulled me inside. What happened?
I collapsed onto her sofa, the story pouring out between sobs.
That absolute *wanker*, Emily hissed when I finished. And that Anna woman was wearing your dressing gown?
Mums birthday gift, I sniffed, wiping my eyes. The cashmere one from last year.
Emily marched to the kitchen and returned with two glasses of wine.
Drink, she ordered. Then we figure out how to ruin them.
What can I even do? I took a sip. The house is in Jamess name. The mortgage was under his credit because mine was still recovering from my masters degree.
Emily narrowed her eyes.
And who paid for everything else? she asked.
Both of us, but I paused, realising. I bought most of it. The furniture, the appliances, the bathroom renovation last year. All in my name.
Exactly! She grinned. Whats James got left? An empty house?
I opened my banking app and scrolled through the transactions.
Ive got all the receipts. I always handled the bills.
Of course you did, Miss Accountant, she laughed. Queen of spreadsheets!
For the first time that horrible day, I felt a flicker of control.
They think theyve won, dont they? I whispered.
Emily clinked her glass against mine.
They have no idea who theyre dealing with.
The next morning, I called my solicitor friend, Sophie.
What he did is illegal, she said after a sip of tea. He cant just change the locks and kick you out, even if the house is in his name. Youve got rights to live there.
I dont want to go back, I said firmly. But I want whats mine.
Sophie smiled.
Then lets make a list.
We spent the morning cataloguing everything Id bought for the house: the sofa, the telly, the fridge, even the rugs. By noon, I had a detailed recorddates, receipts, amounts.
Impressive, Sophie nodded. With this, no one can argue its not yours.
So I can take it all? I asked.
Legally, yes. But Id bring a police escort to avoid accusations of trespassing.
I remembered Jamess smug smirk. Anna in my dressing gown. Their confidence that theyd outplayed me.
No, I said slowly. Ive got a better idea.
That same day, I contacted a removal company. The owner, Mark, listened to my story and nodded in sympathy.
Had a similar case last year, he said.
The next morning, while James and Anna were out for coffee, the movers arrived with my old key and stripped the house bareleaving nothing but echoes in the empty rooms.
