Two months. That’s how long I had been away, tending to my mother after her surgery. Two long, exhausting months of hospital cafeteria food, uncomfortable chair naps, and constant worry. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of finally returning to my own apartment, my own bed, and, of course, my husband, Michael.

I had barely been home for an hour, fresh out of the shower, when I heard the front door unlock. My first thought? Michael had stepped out and forgotten something. My second thought? Why hadn’t I heard his car pull up?

I peeked into the hallway, towel wrapped around my head, still in my bathrobe. That’s when I saw her.

A young, pretty woman stood there as if she owned the place, her manicured fingers clutching a set of keys. She froze, her expression a mix of confusion and mild annoyance.

“Who are YOU?” she blurted out.

I blinked. “Excuse me? Who am I? I live here! Who are YOU?”

She frowned. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Well, I was away for a couple of months. Who gave you a key to MY apartment?”

“Michael,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “He told me I could come anytime.”

Michael. My husband.

A cold sensation spread through my chest, quickly replaced by the slow burn of rage.

“Oh, did he?” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Because I—his WIFE—am back, and that is definitely news to me.”

Her face flickered with something unreadable. Then, as if realizing she had made a terrible mistake, she took a small step back. “Wait… He told me he was single.”

I folded my arms. “Oh, did he now?”

She frowned harder. “Well. I guess I should go.”

I wasn’t about to let this go without answers. “No, wait,” I said. “Come with me.”

To her credit, she hesitated but eventually followed me. I led her to the kitchen, where Michael was sitting at the counter, peacefully eating a bowl of cereal, blissfully unaware of the domestic disaster about to unfold.

She glanced at him, then turned back to me and asked, “Who’s THAT?”

Michael looked up mid-chew, cereal spoon hanging in the air. “Uh… what’s happening?”

I turned back to the woman. “That’s Michael. My husband.”

Her eyebrows shot up so high I thought they’d fly off her face. “That’s not Michael.”

Now it was my turn to be confused. “What?”

Michael, still looking utterly lost, put down his spoon. “I feel like I should be involved in this conversation, but I have no idea what’s going on.”

The woman pulled out her phone and started swiping furiously through her dating app. After a few seconds, she held up a picture.

It wasn’t Michael.

It was Nick.

Michael’s younger brother. The one who constantly got himself into trouble. The one who borrowed money he never paid back. The one who, apparently, had been using my husband’s name—and our apartment—to impress his dates.

Michael groaned. “Oh, for—now it all makes sense! Nick has been weirdly interested in my schedule these past few months. He’d randomly text asking if I was home or if I had a work trip. I thought he was just being, you know, nosy.”

I turned back to the woman, who was now staring at Nick’s profile like it was an ancient relic she had just unearthed. “Let me guess—he never let you come over when I was home?”

She shook her head, still stunned. “Yeah. Said his ‘roommate’ was always around.”

“Unbelievable,” I muttered.

Michael ran a hand through his hair. “I swear, I’m going to kill him.”

The woman—who, by now, I felt deserved to have a name—let out a deep breath. “I cannot believe I fell for this. I knew something was off about him, but I ignored the red flags.” She sighed and stuck out her hand. “I’m Sonya, by the way.”

I shook it. “Nice to meet you. You know, aside from the fact that you broke into my apartment.”

“Technically, I was invited,” she said with a weak laugh. Then she straightened. “You know what? I want revenge.”

Michael grinned. “Oh, we can arrange that.”

Fifteen minutes later, Michael texted Nick.

Michael: Hey, bro. We’re making lasagna tonight. You should come over.

Nick’s reply came almost instantly.

Nick: Oh hell yeah, be there in 20!

Sonya rubbed her hands together like a villain in a movie. “This is going to be fun.”

Twenty minutes later, Nick walked in like he owned the place, his usual cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“Smells amazing,” he said. “Where’s the—”

Then he saw Sonya.

And Sonya saw him.

“Hey, babe!” Nick said, clearly scrambling for an explanation. “What a coincidence! You’re here!”

Sonya folded her arms. “Oh, it’s no coincidence, Nick.”

Nick’s smile wavered. “Uh, what do you mean?”

Michael leaned forward. “She means we all know what you’ve been up to, ‘Michael.’”

Nick turned pale. “Oh.”

Sonya took a deep breath and then, with the kind of dramatic flair that deserved an Oscar, picked up a glass of water and tossed it in Nick’s face.

Gasps. Silence. Dripping water.

Nick blinked. “Okay. I deserved that.”

Michael nodded. “Yeah. You did.”

I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. “You have about ten seconds to explain yourself before we lock you out forever.”

Nick wiped his face and groaned. “Look, I didn’t think it was a big deal! I just—dating’s expensive, okay? I couldn’t bring her to my place, so I figured, what’s the harm? You guys were never home!”

Michael crossed his arms. “You’re paying our rent this month.”

Nick’s mouth fell open. “What?!”

“And you’re giving Sonya back any gifts she got you.”

Nick winced. “Even the AirPods?”

Sonya shot him a look that could melt steel. “Especially the AirPods.”

Nick sighed. “Fine.”

As he sulked out, Sonya turned to me and grinned. “That was fun.”

Michael laughed. “Dinner’s still on if you want to stay.”

Sonya considered. “You know what? Why not? Just promise me there are no more secret brothers hiding around here.”

I grinned. “Just a cat that likes to judge people.”

“Well, that’s fair.”

And that’s how I made a new friend, got revenge on my lying brother-in-law, and still got to enjoy my first home-cooked meal in two months.

If that’s not a successful day, I don’t know what is.

Like and share if you enjoyed this wild ride—because honestly, I think I deserve a medal for not kicking Nick out the window.