Ten days into the separation, the call came. It was Mrs. Higgins next door, her voice trembling. “Honey, I know Derek said you were taking a break, but why is there a strange woman standing in your bedroom window wearing your silk robe?”
My blood ran cold. I dropped my coffee, grabbed my keys, and didn’t even bother packing my bag. The drive to our house usually took twenty minutes; I made it in ten. My mind was racing—was he cheating? Was he moving someone in? The “relationship reset” suddenly felt like a sick joke.
I parked down the street so he wouldn’t hear my car and sprinted to the front door. My hand shook as I jammed the key into the lock, praying he hadn’t changed it. It clicked open.
Silence downstairs. But I could hear music—our wedding song—playing softly from the master bedroom upstairs. My stomach twisted. I crept up the stairs, the carpet muffling my footsteps. The door was ajar.
I pushed it open and gasped.
Derek was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a glass of wine. Standing in front of the mirror was a woman I’d never seen before—young, blonde, and indeed wearing my favorite silk robe. She was spritzing herself with my Chanel perfume.
“Babe, you smell amazing,” Derek said, his back to me. “This month is going to be the best thing that ever happened to us.”
“I agree,” I said, my voice ice cold.
Derek jumped so hard he spilled the wine on the white carpet. The woman screamed and spun around, dropping the perfume bottle. It shattered, the scent of jasmine filling the room instantly.
“E-Eimary?” Derek stammered, his face draining of color. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be giving me space!”
“Space?” I stepped into the room, staring at the woman. “I’m supposed to be giving you space so you can audition my replacement in my house, wearing my clothes?”
The woman looked from me to Derek, confusion clouding her face. “Derek? You told me she was your crazy ex-wife who moved out three months ago. You said the house was yours.”
“It’s complicated!” Derek yelled, standing up and trying to block the woman from my view. “Eimary, this is just… she’s a friend helping me redecorate! It’s part of the surprise for our reunion!”
“Stop lying,” the woman snapped, stepping around him. She pulled my robe tight around herself, looking horrified. “He told me he was single. He said he wanted me to move in for a month to see if we were compatible before making it official. He said you were out of the picture.”
The pieces clicked into place. The “relationship reset.” The one-month timeline. The “enjoying the space.” He wasn’t trying to fix our marriage; he was test-driving a new life with a new woman to see if she was worth divorcing me for. If it didn’t work out with her, he would have just welcomed me back for our “big reunion” like nothing happened.
I looked at Derek, a man I had loved for twelve years, and felt nothing but disgust.
“Get out,” I told him.
“Now, Eimary, let’s be reasonable,” he started, putting on his charming smile. “We can talk about this.”
“I’m talking to her,” I said, nodding at the woman. “Take off my robe, put on your clothes, and leave. You’ve been played just as hard as I have.”
She didn’t argue. She threw the robe on the bed, grabbed her clothes from the floor, and bolted toward the bathroom to change.
I turned to Derek. “You wanted a separation? You got it. But the terms have changed. I’m not going back to that rental. You are leaving. Now.”
“You can’t kick me out! This is my house too!”
“Actually,” I said, pulling my phone out to record him, “I think my lawyer will be very interested to hear how you moved a mistress into our marital home and lied about our status while claiming to work on our marriage. Get out, Derek. Or I call Mrs. Higgins, and you know she’s already live-streaming this to the neighborhood watch group.”
He looked out the window. Sure enough, Mrs. Higgins was on her porch, phone raised.
Derek grabbed his keys and stormed out without a word. I heard his car peel out of the driveway a minute later. The other woman left shortly after, apologizing profusely on her way out.
I stood alone in the master bedroom, surrounded by the smell of spilled wine and broken perfume. It was a mess, but for the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel confused. The “reset” worked, just not the way he planned. I was finally free.
