While He Spent Our Money on Another Woman, I Let a Stranger into My Home — and Everything Changed

It’s strange when you wake up with the feeling that something is about to happen. You don’t know if it’ll be good or bad — just that something is… off. That’s exactly how that Monday morning in February began.

I got up, made some coffee, and found my husband, John, already at the kitchen table, glued to his phone, as usual. He didn’t say anything — just tapped his fingers nervously on the table.

— Julia, please listen — he said after a while. — I’m leaving tomorrow.

I nearly dropped my spoon.

— Leaving? Where to?

— Somewhere in the South. Sunshine, beach… I need a break. I already bought the ticket.

I stared at him, swirling my now-cold coffee, trying to make sense of what I’d just heard. We’d been saving for a vacation together for two years. We skipped luxuries, canceled plans — I even held off on buying a winter coat I loved just so we could travel together.

— What about me? My leave hasn’t been approved yet.

— So what? — he shrugged. — Do you think this is easy for me? This grayness, this monotony — it’s driving me crazy.

Grayness? What about my nerves? My sacrifice?

— But the money… we saved it together.

— I work too — he snapped. — I have a right to rest when I want.

That’s when I knew something wasn’t right. He had been distant for months, secretive. He now carried his phone everywhere — even to the bathroom. I peeked at what he packed: flashy shirts and new swim trunks I’d never seen before. When did he even buy those?

— If I have any money left, I’ll bring you a fridge magnet — he said, zipping his bag.

A magnet. Wonderful. Thanks so much.

He left, slamming the door. I sat there alone. Was I overreacting? Maybe he just needed space?

But then… his phone buzzed. He had left it on the table.

A message appeared on the locked screen:

“Baby, I’m already at the airport, waiting for you at…”

Baby. He hadn’t called me that in years. In fact, he once said nicknames were childish.

Ten minutes later, he came back for the phone. When he saw me still there, his body tensed.

— You’re still here?

— This is my home — I replied calmly. — Or is that inconvenient now?

He grabbed the phone, checked the message preview, then kissed my forehead like I was a little girl.

— Don’t pout. I’ll bring you something back.

And he left. Again.

My heart pounded. Who was “baby”? What was going on?

I put on a coat, called a cab, and headed straight to the airport. Expensive? Yes. But truth is worth more than money.

When I got there, I saw something I’ll never forget: a young woman — no more than twenty — long wavy hair, petite frame, wearing the same colorful shirt I saw in John’s suitcase. She was laughing. They hugged. He whispered something in her ear, and she giggled, holding him tight.

Everything we’d saved for… it was all for this.

I wanted to scream. Run up and slap them. But it was too late — they were boarding.

Outside, I sat on a bench and cried. No — I sobbed. My entire world had collapsed. People looked at me, but I didn’t care.

Snow began to fall — gently at first, then heavy and wet. I sat there, frozen.

Then a voice broke the silence.

— Excuse me, ma’am… Are you okay?

I looked up. A man stood in front of me, in a ragged coat, tangled hair, shivering.

— Can I help you with something?

— No one even knows I exist anymore — I said bitterly.

— Maybe things aren’t as hopeless as they seem — he replied softly. — Do you have any work? Anything temporary?

I looked at him. We had both lost something today. But at least he wasn’t lying.

— You know what? Come with me. Warm up. Have something to eat.

— Are you serious?

— Are you a serial killer?

— No — he laughed. — Just a man down on his luck.

— Then let’s go. There’s nothing left in the fridge anyway — John cleaned it out before his grand escape.

The cab driver muttered something, but a tip changed his tone quickly.

The man introduced himself as John, but asked me to call him Roli. He was an engineer. He’d lost his job, then his home. His wife moved in with her mother.

— She said she’d come back once I had a job again — he said with a wry smile.

At my place, he went straight to the radiator to warm up.

— You can take a bath — I offered. — My husband’s robe is in the closet.

— Are you sure?

— Positive. He’s sipping cocktails with someone in the tropics. The robe’s available.

While he bathed, I made some soup. I kept thinking, Am I crazy? Letting a stranger into my house?

But the day was already upside down. Nothing about it felt normal.

When he came out, I barely recognized him. He looked like a man in his early 40s, sharp-eyed, confident. The robe fit a bit awkwardly, but he looked… handsome.

— You’re really not homeless?

— No — he said. — Just going through a rough patch.

We sat and talked. He told me about his work in construction — how he designed major projects. Then came bankruptcy, no pay for months, and layoffs.

— My wife stuck around for a while — he said. — Then she told me: “I don’t want to live poor.”

— True love — I muttered.

— Apparently.

I told him my story too — the airport, the message from “baby,” the broken dreams.

— And now? — he asked gently.

— Now I’m getting a divorce. My grandmother left me this apartment. I have a job. I’ll be fine.

— Kids?

— Never happened. He kept delaying it. Now I understand why.

— Maybe it’s for the best — Roli said softly. — From a husband like that…

— At least I won’t have to explain to a child why daddy left with another woman.

After dinner, he turned on the TV — he hadn’t seen the news in ages. I did the dishes and then sat down in my armchair. I ended up falling asleep.

Hours later, the front door banged.

— What is this?! The key doesn’t work!

— I changed the locks — I said calmly.

— Are you insane?! This apartment is mine too!

— It was. Now it’s all mine — I said, handing him an envelope.

— What’s this?

— Divorce papers. Hearing is tomorrow morning.

— You… you’re actually divorcing me?

— 100% serious. How’s your little “baby”? Still glowing from the beach?

His face twisted in fury.

— You have no idea what you’re losing! I’m a man! I need fire, passion! And you’re just… cold!

— I gave you six months of savings. You burned it all in one week.

He clenched his fists. I thought he might hit me. I closed my eyes.

And then…

— Victoria, is everything alright?

A familiar voice.

I opened my eyes. Roli stood there. But he wasn’t the tired man in rags anymore. He wore a crisp suit, fresh haircut, and stood tall. Two men in suits flanked him.

John backed away as if struck by lightning. Then he collapsed onto the floor, speechless.

— Is that you? — I asked, stunned. — John?

— It’s me — Roli said, smiling. — I promised I’d get back on my feet. I just came from a business meeting and thought I’d drop by.

John muttered something and fled like a coward.

Roli gently took my hand.

— Come. I’ll tell you everything.

We went inside, made tea, and sat. Like a movie.

That night he’d stayed on my couch, he saw a job ad on the news — a major international engineering firm was looking for a senior specialist. The next morning, he went straight to the interview.

— I got a trial period. Then they hired me full-time. Now I have my own team, a great salary, and a plan. I’ve been working and studying hard for months. But the whole time, I could only think of one thing: you.