I came home from work, exhausted, only to find my key no longer fit the lock. Confused, I knocked — and my husband’s lover answered the door, smirking. “He lives here now. You don’t.” My heart sank. My husband stood behind her, silent. They had changed the locks while I was at work.
But what they didn’t know was that the house was legally mine — inherited from my late grandmother before our marriage. His name wasn’t even on the deed.
I didn’t argue. I simply walked away and called my lawyer. Within 24 hours, they were served with an eviction notice. Two weeks later, I walked back into my home with a locksmith, changed the locks again, and dropped his belongings on the porch.
As for them? Last I heard, they were crashing on his cousin’s couch. Actions have consequences — and this time, karma had a key with my name on it.
