I spent years building my dream home with Roger, believing it would be our forever place. But one afternoon, I discovered I wasn’t the owner—the deed was in the name of his mistress.
Roger and I had designed the house together, picking out every detail. He handled all the legalities, assuring me I didn’t need to worry. But soon, I noticed changes in him—he became distant, taking secretive calls and traveling more often. I brushed it off until one day, I found the deed in a filing cabinet. Roger had transferred ownership of the house to his assistant, Rachel, months before we even moved in.
Shocked and hurt, I planned my next steps carefully. That evening, I confronted him over dinner, sliding the deed across the table. Roger tried to deny it, but I was done. The next morning, I visited a divorce attorney and learned that Roger’s actions were fraudulent.
The court ruled in my favor, returning the house to our shared assets. I received my half, and Roger was forced to sell. Rachel disappeared when she realized the house wasn’t hers, and Roger’s life unraveled. I took my settlement, bought a small beach house, and left him behind. Roger thought he could erase me, but instead, he erased himself.