Then I dialed 911. While I was still on the call, she started yelling that I was harassing her. I just sat down completely calm, letting the operator hear everything.
20 minutes later, two cops arrived, one older, one younger. They talked to both of us separately. I showed them my ID, mortgage, and utility bills.
The older cop asked her straight, "Ma'am, is it true you just told him you're engaged to another man while living here?"
She said, "That's not illegal."
He sighed. "No, ma'am, but if you're not on the lease and the homeowner wants you to leave, we recommend you do so voluntarily."
"I have rights," she snapped. "I live here."
The younger cop asked, "Do you have a lease agreement or proof of rent payments?"
She hesitated. "I contribute."
I showed them my banking app. "All mortgage and utilities are from my account. She's never paid a dime."
The cop just nodded. "Ma'am, you can try to fight this in civil court, but given the situation, we suggest you pack up tonight and avoid trespassing charges."
They told me it was technically a civil issue, but since she agreed to leave and wasn't on any lease, they'd stick around while she packed just to keep things calm.
She glared at me, then at them. "This is so unfair."
"Ma'am," the older cop said, "you're engaged to someone else. Why would you want to stay here?"
She didn't answer that one. Instead, she started shoving clothes into bags, talking to her phone like she was hosting a live show.
"I'm being kicked out of my home for falling in love," she said, fake crying for her followers.
I sat on the couch, watched her narrate her own humiliation, and honestly started to find it funny. The level of delusion was wild.
About an hour later, she stormed out. As she passed me, she said, "You'll regret this, Patrick."
I smiled. "Probably not as much as you'll regret announcing your engagement over dinner."
The cops waited until she left. The older one gave me a nod. "Change your locks tonight, sir, and maybe get cameras."