My Husband Kicked Me out of the House, Unaware He Would Be on the Streets the Next Day — Story of the Day

My marriage was falling apart, and when I discovered my husband was cheating with his boss’s wife, he threw me out like a stray dog. What he didn’t know was that I had a secret, one that would help me take back control of my life and give him exactly what he deserved.

My husband, Daryl, had just walked through the door, barely acknowledging me before heading straight to the bedroom. He was home for less than five minutes, yet he was already getting ready to leave again.

This infuriated me. Lately, it felt like I was invisible to him. For the past few months, Daryl had been disappearing at odd hours, sometimes late at night, other times right after dinner.

He never offered an explanation, and when I asked, he brushed me off or gave some vague excuse.

I couldn’t remember the last time we had a proper conversation. The distance between us grew wider each day, and I felt more alone than ever.

"Where are you going?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though I felt a surge of anger rising inside me.

"None of your business," Daryl replied, not even looking at me. He just walked past, heading straight to the bathroom.

I watched him disappear behind the door, feeling a heavy weight in my chest.

Lately, everything between Daryl and me had started to fall apart. Our once happy and loving relationship was now filled with tension and coldness.

Daryl began avoiding me, spending more and more time away from home. When he was around, he was quick to throw insults my way, picking at anything he could.

His favorite target was my weight. He’d remind me constantly that I had gained too much weight, as if I wasn’t aware of it myself. What hurt the most was that he knew why I had gained the weight.

During my pregnancy with Isaac, I had put on a few extra pounds. Yes, our son Isaac was already three years old now, but between taking care of him, cooking, cleaning, and everything else, I hadn’t found the time or energy to lose it.

I had been doing everything I could to keep our lives running smoothly. Every day, I cooked meals, cleaned the house, and took care of our little boy.

On top of that, I helped Daryl's mother after she had a heart attack. She was struggling to manage on her own, so I stepped in to help her as much as I could.

But none of that seemed to matter to Daryl. All he ever saw was my weight and that I wasn’t bringing in a paycheck. He acted like that meant I wasn’t doing anything at all, and he never missed a chance to remind me of it.

There were mornings when I couldn’t even manage to drink a cup of coffee because I was so busy with everything.

I didn’t understand why he was treating me this way. I had always supported him. Daryl wasn’t some high-powered businessman; he was just an ordinary salesman at a paper company.

We didn’t even own our own house; we were renting. But I never made him feel less because of it. I accepted our life for what it was and worked hard to make the best of it.

But this time, as Daryl came out of the bathroom already dressed, not saying a word to me before heading out the door, something snapped inside me.

I wasn’t going to sit around anymore, wondering what was going on. I needed to know who Daryl had been meeting all this time. I quickly grabbed Isaac, buckled him into his car seat, and started the car. We followed Daryl’s car, determined to find out the truth.

Daryl pulled into the parking lot of a fancy restaurant, one that I knew we couldn’t afford. My heart raced as I followed him, parking a little way off where I could see everything.

What could he possibly be doing here? I watched as he got out of the car and walked inside. I waited, my eyes glued to the entrance. Then, through the large windows, I saw him approach a table.

My breath caught in my throat when I recognized who was sitting there—Elsa, his boss’s wife.

At first, I tried to convince myself that this was just a business meeting. Maybe they were discussing something work-related. But as I watched, my hope was shattered.

Daryl leaned down toward Elsa, and before I could even process what was happening, he kissed her. It wasn’t just a casual peck on the cheek; it was a passionate kiss, the kind he hadn’t given me in a long time.

My heart sank, and anger surged through me. What a bastard! I was ready to jump out of the car, march into that restaurant, and confront them both.

But then I glanced at the back seat and saw Isaac, my sweet little boy, sleeping peacefully. I couldn’t drag him into this mess.

Instead, I grabbed my phone with trembling hands and snapped a few photos of them together. I needed proof, evidence of what Daryl was doing.

With that done, I turned the car around and headed home, my mind swirling with a million thoughts. Once there, I gently put Isaac in his crib, my heart aching as I looked at him.

Then, I sat down in the living room, waiting for Daryl to come home, knowing that everything was about to change.

When Daryl finally walked through the door, I was ready. My arms were crossed tightly over my chest, trying to hold in the anger that had been building up all night.

I didn’t want to explode, not with Isaac asleep in the next room, but I needed answers. "Don’t you have anything to tell me?" I asked, my voice steady but cold.

Daryl didn’t even blink. "No," he said, his tone just as icy as if he couldn’t be bothered to care.

I felt my heart pound harder in my chest. "And what about sleeping with your boss’s wife?" I asked, keeping my voice low, but the anger was clear. I didn’t want to wake Isaac, but I couldn’t let Daryl get away with this.

"None of your business," he said, not even looking at me, his voice full of indifference.

My hands shook as I clenched them into fists. "None of my business? None of my business?! What about the fact that I’m your wife? The mother of your son?"

Daryl’s expression didn’t change. "That won’t be for long," he said calmly, pulling some papers out of his bag and tossing them onto the table in front of me.

I stared at the papers, feeling like the ground had just been ripped out from under me. Divorce papers. Already signed by him. "What is this all for?" I demanded, my voice trembling despite my effort to stay strong.

"To be with Elsa," Daryl said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

A bitter, nervous laugh escaped me. "You think she’ll leave her husband? For you? An ordinary salesman who doesn’t even own his own house?"

"She loves me," he said, with a certainty that made my skin crawl. "And she doesn’t care what I do for work."

I couldn’t hold back my frustration any longer. I snorted and grabbed the divorce papers, throwing them back at him. "I’m not signing this," I declared, standing my ground.

"Oh, you will," Daryl said, his voice dripping with arrogance. "And Isaac will stay with me."

"In your dreams!" I shot back, the thought of losing Isaac fueling my anger. There was no way I would let that happen.

Daryl’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer, his voice low and threatening. "Do you think they’ll leave him with you? A person who lives on the street and has no job?"

His words hit me like a slap in the face, but I forced myself to stay strong. "And why would I be living on the street?" I demanded though a part of me was afraid of what he might say next.

Daryl didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed my arm roughly and pushed me toward the door. Before I could react, he threw me outside, tossing the divorce papers after me.

"You can come back for your things later!" he shouted through the door. "The lease is in my name, so don’t waste your time on the police!"

I pounded on the door with all my strength, screaming Daryl’s name until my throat hurt. My voice echoed through the night, probably waking up the entire neighborhood, but he never opened the door.

The realization hit me hard—I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. Feeling lost and desperate, I made my way to the only place I could think of: Daryl’s mother’s house.

When she opened the door, she took one look at my tear-streaked face and didn’t hesitate. She let me in, her expression full of concern and listened as I poured out all my pain and frustration about her son.

"The bastard! I didn’t raise him to act like this," she said, her voice firm with anger.

"How could he treat me this way?" I asked, struggling to speak through my tears.

"He’ll get what’s coming to him," she replied, her eyes narrowing. "You have an advantage here. Did you follow the advice I gave you back then?"

I nodded, remembering how Daryl’s mother had warned me before our wedding. She had told me that Daryl wasn’t as serious as I thought, but I was too blinded by love to see any of his flaws.

I was young and convinced that love would fix everything. But even in my naivety, I had listened to her advice. Now, that advice was about to turn the tables in my favor.

I pulled out my phone and showed her the photos I had taken of Daryl and Elsa. She looked at them, her face hardening. "Send these to Daryl’s boss, Elsa’s husband," she advised, her tone steady.

I knew she was right. They needed to face the consequences of their actions. So, I did just that, making sure the truth would come out, and they wouldn’t get away with what they had done.

The next morning, I stood at the front door, waiting with the police by my side. My heart pounded, but I knew I had to stay strong. When Daryl opened the door, his eyes widened slightly at the sight of the officers, but he quickly masked his surprise with irritation.

"I told you not to bother with the police," he said, his tone sharp. "The lease is in my name. There's nothing they can do."

I looked at him calmly, holding back the anger that was bubbling inside me. "But you don’t know who actually owns this house because I always handled the communication with the owner."

Daryl narrowed his eyes, trying to read my expression. "So what? I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it."

Without a word, I handed him a set of documents. He took them, confusion crossing his face as he started to read. His eyes darted back up to mine, filled with disbelief.

"What the…?" He couldn’t finish the sentence, his voice trailing off.

"This is my house," I said, feeling a surge of power as I explained. "I inherited it from my grandmother before our wedding, and I never told you. Following your mother’s advice, I kept it a secret and collected rent so I’d have a financial cushion in case you ever did something like this."

His face flushed with anger and disbelief. He looked at the papers, then back at me, his hands shaking. "I paid rent for four years!" he shouted, his voice filled with rage and betrayal.

I nodded, keeping my voice steady. "Yeah, I know. But now, you need to get out. Isaac stays with me. After all, it’s you who’s now homeless and jobless."

Daryl’s eyes widened with shock. "Why am I jobless?" he asked, though a hint of panic was creeping into his voice.

I couldn’t help but feel a cold satisfaction as I delivered the final blow. "I took photos of you and Elsa, and somehow they ended up in her husband’s hands. Can you imagine the coincidence?"

His face twisted with rage. "You’re a witch!" he screamed, and before I knew it, he lunged at me, his fists clenched in anger. But the police were quicker. They grabbed him, holding him back as he struggled against their grip.

As they dragged him out of the house, I seized the moment and stepped inside, slamming the door shut behind me.

Daryl broke free from the police for a moment and started banging on the door, shouting obscenities, but I wasn’t afraid anymore. I had the upper hand now. "You can come back for your things later!" I shouted through the door as the police restrained him once again.

I watched through the window as they forced him into the police car, his face still twisted with anger. A wave of victory washed over me. That jerk got exactly what he deserved! Finally, I felt free.

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