My Husband Brought His Mistress Home to Kick Me Out – Little Did He Know, He’d Be Homeless an Hour Later

Let me rewind a little. I’ve been married to Logan for five years, and let’s just say the fairy-tale part of it didn’t last too long. Things started okay, and we were genuinely in this together.

But problems came, and our struggles trying to conceive a baby took a bigger toll on our relationship than I realized at first. My mental health went downhill, and I felt like an utter failure.

Meanwhile, Logan began to drift instead of supporting me. He seemed more interested in “finding himself,” which apparently meant going to the gym and buying a fast car.

I questioned everything about myself. I blamed my own body for not being able to get pregnant. But I never thought…

Anyway, last night, my best friend Lola convinced me to leave the house to clear my head and have a little fun. My husband had told me he was staying at the gym late, so we went to this cozy, dimly lit jazz club downtown, where the music was beautiful but not loud enough that you couldn’t have a conversation.

The mood in the club was perfect for a little distraction. Lola had me laughing and in a good mood, when she suddenly went silent. Her eyes bulged while looking somewhere over my shoulder.

“Natasha… I don’t want to alarm you, but… is that Logan?”

A cold dread filled my body. You can call it women’s intuition, or it might have been what I saw in her face. But I knew what I would see as soon as I started to turn.

Sitting at a corner table, I saw my husband with a young woman draped over his shoulders. She was giggling, and he leaned in, whispering something into her ear.

Nothing like this had ever happened to me, even during my college relationships. So, I’d never thought I’d be the kind of woman to cause a scene. But my body moved out of its own accord.

In a flash, I was right at their table and my outburst made them both jump. “Logan, are you serious right now?!” I barked.

My husband looked up, confused and startled for one second. But soon, I saw relief hit his face and worst of all, his expression turned into a smirk.

“Natasha, well, finally,” he said with that stupid grin still on his face. The girl beside him, Brenda, smiled in return and looked up at me like she’d won.

“Logan,” I tried to speak, not even knowing what I would say, but he interrupted me.

“Look, Natasha. It’s better that now you know. I don’t have to keep hiding it,” he said carelessly. “I’m in love with someone else. We’re done. It’s over.”

Just like that. No hesitation. No remorse. I wanted to scream, cry, slap him across his smug face, but somehow, I just stood there, numb.

Suddenly, Lola took my arm, muttering something about how Logan would regret this one day, and guided me outside.

I didn’t even notice when she drove my car straight to her apartment until she sat me on her bed, where I finally broke down.

The next morning, after barely any sleep, I decided to go home and confront him. Maybe he’d come to his senses.

But when I pulled up to our house, the sight that greeted me felt like discovering his cheating all over again.

There, on the front lawn, were all my things — scattered, as if they were trash. Clothes, photo frames, even my old college textbooks, just tossed out without a second thought.

And there he was, standing on the porch with Brenda by his side, smiling like he’d just won the lottery. I got out of my car feeling the numbness take over, and walked slowly to them.

Logan got right to the point. “I don’t think I need to remind you, but this house belongs to my grandfather, and you have no claim to it,” he sneered while my face remained blank. “You’re out. Get your stuff and leave. Now.”

I stood there, fully numb, as his words sank in. Aside from cheating and dumping me, he was kicking me out of my own house. And the worst part? He looked like he was enjoying every second of it.

Still, I tried to keep my composure. No way was I giving him the satisfaction of seeing me break down. So I just started gathering my things, shoving clothes and random belongings into the trunk of my car. But the humiliation burned deep.

Instead of going inside like Logan, Brenda stayed on the porch and watched me. She couldn’t even hide her amusement. When I glanced up, she decided to put salt in my wound.

“I can’t wait to redecorate this house,” she sighed happily, crossing her arms. “It’s all old lady stuff, and so ugly.”

My face stayed blank. I was trying to think of anything of mine that might remain inside as I loaded stuff into my car. It was a simple sedan, so I definitely needed another trip.

Hopefully, Lola wouldn’t mind me staying with her for a while. But as I mulled over these things to keep from showing any emotion or breaking down again, I heard it: the rumble of a car pulling up behind me.

I turned around, and there, stepping out of a sleek black BMW, was Mr. Duncan, Logan’s grandfather. And he looked confused.

Now, if there’s one thing everyone in town knows is that Mr. Duncan can be tough. He built a family fortune from nothing. Therefore, he had big expectations from all his children and grandchildren.

At first, I thought being an in-law in the family would be difficult because of him. But for reasons I never understood, he’d treated me amazingly from the very beginning. He loved me with his grandson.

Yet, I was still afraid of what would happen as he took in the scene with my belongings on the lawn, a strange woman on the porch, and Logan nowhere to be seen.

“Logan, babe, come out here!” Brenda called out, worried.

And the sound of her voice had Mr. Duncan frowning at first. Then, his expression changed from confusion to pure anger.

“What the hell is going on here?!” Mr. Duncan’s voice boomed as Logan came outside with his mouth hanging open.

“Grandpa, we had no idea you were coming over today,” he started, swallowing thickly. “This is not the best time. We’re dealing with a private thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Logan, I might be old, but I get exactly what’s happening,” Mr. Duncan responded in his thick voice. “I only asked because I didn’t want to believe my eyes.”

“Grandpa,” Logan tried, but he didn’t get another word in.

“It looks like you’ve kicked my favorite granddaughter-in-law out of the house, and you’re shacking up with that tramp. Did I get anything wrong?” Mr. Duncan continued sharply, and I didn’t feel bad at his insult to Brenda.

“Grandpa, Natasha, and I… we’re done. She doesn’t belong here anymore.”

“And who gave you the right to decide that?” Mr. Duncan’s eyebrows rose. He glanced at me for a second with a tender look before looking back at Logan.

“Let me remind you that this house belongs to me. I’ve let you live here because you were starting a family, together,” he continued. “But if you’re going to treat Natasha like she’s disposable, you can consider yourself out. Effective immediately.”

Logan’s face went pale. “What… what are you saying?”

Mr. Duncan didn’t even blink. “I’m saying that Natasha will stay, and you will leave. Not only that but as of right now, I’m cutting you off. Consider all my money and support gone. You think you can act like this? Disrespect your wife and make our family look bad for some early midlife crisis and a 20-year-old gold digger? Not on my watch!”

“Grandpa!”

“Leave now!”

***

Once Logan and Brenda were gone, Mr. Duncan ushered me inside and revealed why he came by in the first place. “Natasha, I heard from my son about you and Logan’s issues with fertility, and I came here to offer to pay for IVF.”

“Oh, sir,” I croaked. My emotions were finally surfacing.

“But it seems I arrived just in time to see this disaster instead. You don’t deserve any of this,” he continued, and I almost couldn’t handle his kindness.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Thank you, Mr. Duncan… I… I didn’t know what to do, so I just started packing my car.”

He put a reassuring hand on my shoulder while shaking his head. “No need for that. Consider this house yours. I’ll handle all the paperwork, and make it official. It’s also my apology for not raising a better grandson.”

I nodded as tears fell from my eyes.

In the days that followed, Mr. Duncan made good on his word. My name went on the deed, and Logan was cut off from his family’s money and support.

I heard through the grapevine that Brenda didn’t stick around long after she realized the bank accounts were closed off, and apparently, Logan was couch-surfing between friends.

It must have been a blow to his ego because he came crawling back only a week after that scene in my front yard.

He was still in the same clothes as that day and looked terrible.

“I made a mistake. I have nothing left. The rest of my family won’t help me. Can you please call my grandfather? He’ll listen to you,” Logan blurted with no preamble. “I can’t live like this.”

There was no apology or true remorse for what he did for me. He only regretted losing the money and influence of his family.

So, I got to say the words every person in my position wants to. “Nope! You made your bed, lie in it!” It was cliché and cruel, but believe me, it was so satisfying at that moment.

His expression changed to anger immediately, and before he could barrel some insults at me, I slammed the door in his face. I still heard his shouting, but his words rolled off me in that high from that payback.

Maybe I’ll feel bad for him later. But what did he expect? Entitled brat!

Here’s another story: Just a month after my mother lost her battle with cancer, Dad brought his mistress home for Christmas and introduced her as my “NEW MOM.” My heart shattered, but it wasn’t the only thing that left me shaken.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.