When Lisa's husband suggests a month-long separation to "reignite their relationship," she reluctantly agrees until a neighbor's frantic call

 


When Lisa's husband suggests a month-long separation to "reignite their relationship," she reluctantly agrees until a neighbor's frantic call

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When Derek suggested we live apart for a month to "reignite our relationship," I thought it was one of those modern trends couples try when they're struggling but don't want to admit it.

He spun it like a grand idea, claiming it would help us reconnect and appreciate each other more.

"You'll see," he said, grinning over his coffee one morning. "It'll be like dating all over again. You'll miss me. I'll miss you. And when the month's over, it'll be like a fresh start."

I didn't love the idea. What wife would? But Derek was insistent. He seemed so sure this was for the best, so I packed a bag, moved into a short-term rental across town, and told myself it would be fine.

The first week was awkward and lonely.

Derek barely called or texted but chalked it up to the fact that he was "enjoying the space" and focused on staying busy.

I even started looking forward to what he'd called "our big reunion, Lisa."

One day, I invited my sister, Penelope, over.

"Are you sure about this, Lisa?" she asked as she poured herself a glass of wine. "I mean, it's a bit sketchy."

"I know," I agreed, putting together a charcuterie board. "But whenever I showed any resistance, Derek would lose his mind. So, I figured that it was something he needed to do."

"Yeah, I get that," she said. "But something isn't right about this, sis. I'd watch Derek carefully, if I were you."

I have to admit, she was right. And I felt the same way. What good reason would Derek have to actually want us to be separated?

Then, one quiet Saturday evening, my phone rang.

"Lisa," Mary's voice crackled through the line, low and urgent. "You need to come home. Right now. I saw a woman in your house. I can't see much, but I saw a silhouette through the window."

I put the knife I was using for chopping vegetables down and shook my head clear.

Mary was my neighbor and wasn't the type to overreact.

"What? Really!?"

The air felt like it had been knocked out of my lungs.

A woman? In our house?

My mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario:

Derek had moved someone else in. A mistress.

Then again, it could've been something else. A break-in, maybe, or Sheila, Derek's mother.

But I dismissed those possibilities almost instantly. Derek had been so distant lately, barely calling or texting. My gut told me that it had to be infidelity.

Infidelity.

"Are you sure?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"Positive," Mary said firmly. "Hurry, Lisa. Something is happening!"

I didn't stop to think. I grabbed my keys and bolted out the door.

When I reached the house, I didn't bother knocking. My hands were trembling as I shoved the door open, adrenaline pumping through me. It was as if my instincts took over. I ran up the stairs and straight into my bedroom.

There she was.

Not a mistress, but Derek's mother.

Sheila.

Sheila was standing in the middle of my bedroom, surrounded by piles of my clothes. My closet doors were flung wide open, and she was holding one of my lace bras with a look of disgust.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled, startling her.

Sheila glanced up, unbothered by my outrage.

"Oh, Lisa. You're back early," she said nonchalantly.

She waved the bra in the air like a piece of trash.

"I'm cleaning up this house. This isn't suitable for a married woman."

My jaw dropped.

"Excuse me?"

She gestured toward several trash bags on the floor. They were stuffed with my clothes, lingerie, dresses, and even casual outfits.

"Lisa, these don't reflect the values of a proper wife. Derek asked me to help get things in order while you were gone."

I felt a wave of rage boil over.

"Get my things in order? By throwing away my clothes? Who gave you the right to do this?"

Sheila's lips pursed as she straightened her shoulders.

"Honestly, Lisa, someone had to step in. This house is a mess, and your wardrobe... well, it sends the wrong message. Derek deserves better!"

Her words felt like a slap in the face.

Sheila had always been critical. She always had snide remarks about my cooking and little digs about how I kept the house, but this?

This was a new level of audacity.

"Where is Derek?" I demanded, my voice shaking with fury.

"He's out," Sheila replied nonchalantly. "Running errands, I think. He knows I'm here. We both agree this is what's best."

What's best?

Her words echoed in my head as I stood there, stunned. Derek hadn't just let this happen. He'd invited her here.

I was still standing in the bedroom fuming when Derek finally came home an hour later, pounding up the stairs. Sheila had moved to the living room, probably sensing her presence would only add fuel to the fire.

"Lisa?" Derek said, stepping into the room.

His tone was confused, almost annoyed. "Why are you here?"

"Why am I here?" I snapped. "Because Mary called and told me there was a woman in our room going through my things. Imagine my surprise when I found out it was your mother!"

Derek sighed like I was the one making this into a big deal.... (continue reading in the 1st comment...)

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