My Husband and His Mistress Swapped the Locks While I Was Working They Had No Idea What Was Coming
I trudged home after a grueling shift, only to discover that my own husband had replaced the lock on our door. I stared in disbelief as my key refused to turn. There I stood, in the hallway of our Lisbon flat, heart shattered, after all the effort Id put into rescuing our marriage, watching it crumble in an instant. What they didnt realize was that I was about to teach them a lesson theyd never forget.
João, its almost ten oclock, I said, voice shaking, when I called him the night before. You promised youd be home by seven!
He tossed the keys onto the side table without even looking at me.
Work, Inês. What am I supposed to tell the boss? That I have to go to my wifes house? he snapped, as if I were a burden.
I swallowed my tears and glanced at the modest dinner I had set for my birthday: two candles flickering beside a cake Id bought during my lunch break.
Yes, João. Exactly that. Just once, I crossed my arms, trying to keep the sobs at bay. Today is my birthday.
Only then did he actually glance at the table. His expression shifted when he finally understood.
Boss, Inês, I forgot he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Seems that way, I replied coldly, feeling a lump rise in my throat.
Dont start, he rolled his eyes. Im working for us, you know that.
I let out a bitter laugh.
For us? I asked. Youre hardly ever home, João. When was the last time we had dinner together? Watched a film? Talked like a married couple?
Thats unfair, he frowned. Im building a career for our future.
What future? We live like strangers under the same roof! my voice cracked. I earn more than you, so dont try that providing for the family line on me.
His face went icecold.
Sure, youd throw that in my face, he retorted sarcastically. How am I supposed to compete with a successful wife?
Thats not what I meant
Enough, Inês. Im going to bed. He cut me off and walked away, leaving me with a cold cake and candles dying out.
I blew out the candles, trying to convince myself that everything would get better. He was my husband. I loved him. Every marriage has its problems, right? Everyone says that.
How wrong I was to forgive so easily.
Wed been married three years, but the past year felt like a slow, painful breakup. We didnt have childrenthank God for that. As a marketing director, I covered most of the bills, while João, a salesperson, constantly complained about stress, overtime, traffic everything except the truth I eventually uncovered.
Three weeks after that ruined birthday, I returned home early with a pounding headache, only wanting a pill and a place to lie down. As I approached our building in Alvalade, something odd caught my eye: the golden knob and lock had been swapped for brandnew silver ones.
What the? I tried my key. It wouldnt turn.
I tried again, to no avail. The apartment number matched mine without a doubt.
Then I saw a handwritten note stuck to the door, signed by João: This is no longer your home. Find somewhere else.
The floor seemed to disappear beneath me.
What the hell?! I shouted.
I pounded on the door, calling for him. He opened it, and there he was, with his lover standing behind him, wearing my cashmere robea gift from my mother.
Is this serious? I demanded, voice trembling with anger and hurt.
Inês, listen he crossed his arms, smiling. I moved on. Soraia and I are together now. We need this space. Youll have to stay with someone else.
Soraia the colleague hed mentioned for months stepped forward, hands on her hips, and said arrogantly:
All your stuff is in boxes in the garage. Pack it up and leave.
I stood frozen, unable to process. Then I turned, stormed to the car, fury building. They thought they could evict me like trash and walk away unscathed? They were wrong.
I needed a plan. A solid one.
I called my sister, Luísa.
Inês? My God, what happened? she cried, pulling me inside the apartment the moment she saw my tearstreaked face.
I collapsed onto the couch and poured out everything.
What a piece of work! she hissed when I finished. And that Soraia wearing YOUR robe?
Its my mothers gift, I sobbed. The cashmere one, remember?
Luísa rushed to the kitchen and returned with two glasses of wine.
Drink, she ordered. Then well figure out how to mess with them.
What can I do? I took a sip. The lease is in his name. The mortgage was taken out on his credit because mine was still being rebuilt after my masters.
Luísa narrowed her eyes.
And who paid the rest? she asked.
We both did, but I paused, realizing. I bought everythingfurniture, appliances, the bathroom remodel last year. All of it.
Exactly! she grinned wickedly. What does João have besides an empty flat?
I opened my banking app and scanned the statements.
I have every invoice. Ive always kept everything organized.
Of course, Miss Accountant, Luísa laughed. Queen of organization!
For the first time that terrible day, I felt control returning.
They think theyve won, dont they? I whispered.
She clinked her glass against mine.
They have no idea who theyre dealing with.
The next morning I phoned my lawyer friend, Filipa.
What he did is illegal, she said over coffee. He cant just change the lock and throw his wife out, even if the property is in his name. You have the right to remain there.
I dont want to go back, I said firmly. But I want whats mine.
Filipa smiled.
Then lets make a list.
We spent the morning cataloguing every item Id purchased: the sofa, the TV, the fridge, even the rugs. By lunch I had a detailed inventory with receipts, dates, and amounts.
Impressive, she approved. With this evidence, nobody can contest it.
Can I just take everything? I asked.
Legally, yes. Id suggest having a police officer present to avoid any trouble.
I recalled Joãos smug grin, Soraia in my robe, their certainty that theyd won.
No, I said slowly. I have a better idea.
That same day I hired a moving company. The owner, Rui, listened to my story and agreed to help.
Weve dealt with a similar case, he told me. A woman caught her husband cheating and wanted to take everything while he was away.
I need the same, I replied. Only I want them to be home when it happens.
I waited until Saturday. On the agreed day, the movers arrived at noon. I knocked on the door with a smile, ready to have every piece of the home Id built with my own hands taken away.
