My husband Mihai and I had been married for ten years. Two kids, a mortgage, and what I considered a solid life kept us together. Of course, Mihai didn’t help much around the house. He didn’t cook, didn’t clean, and didn’t get involved at all in the endless chaos of raising the kids.
All of that fell on my shoulders.
Tiring? Absolutely.
But I kept telling myself, “We are a team, Livia.”
Only, it seemed Mihai had chosen to play for a completely different team.
It all started with some shopping bags.
I had just pulled into the garage after an exhausting trip to the supermarket. The car was full of heavy bags, and I was mentally preparing to carry them inside by myself.
Mihai, as usual, didn’t lift a finger to help me.
Then I heard voices from the porch.
It was Mihai, talking to Irina, the 25-year-old daughter of our neighbors, who had recently moved back to town. Her parents were very proud of her for landing an internship after studying interior design.
And now, Irina and Mihai were laughing together like old friends.
I almost got out of the car to greet them, but something stopped me. I crouched behind the car, hidden by shadows and bags, and listened.
— I can’t believe she still hasn’t figured it out, Irina said, with a light laugh floating in the cool evening air.
Mihai laughed too:
— She’s so caught up with the kids and the house, Iri. Livia barely notices anything else. Plus, she’s let herself go a lot. She doesn’t even seem like a woman to me anymore. You have nothing to do with her, my princess.
Irina laughed flirtatiously.
— Well, you’re lucky I’m here now. You can brag about me all you want. And believe me, I don’t have a single gray hair.
Then they kissed.
They kissed?!
I felt a mix of humiliation and rage. My eyes stung with tears, but I held back. I didn’t scream, I didn’t confront them.
With an unexpected calm, I took the bags and entered through the back door, starting to plan my next move.
The next morning, I woke up with surprising clarity. I made breakfast for Mihai, as usual: fluffy eggs, crispy bacon, and coffee with a dash of cinnamon. I sent him off with a smile and a kiss at the door when he left for work.
Then I went to Irina’s house and knocked on the door.
— Oh, hi, Livia, she said, surprised.
— Hi, Irina, I replied warmly. I was wondering if you could come over tomorrow evening. I need your advice on something.
— Advice? About what? she asked, confused.
— I’d like to redecorate the living room. I heard you studied interior design, and I thought you could give me some ideas. How about seven o’clock? There will be dinner too.
Irina, though hesitant at first, agreed.
The next evening, Irina arrived on time, dressed to impress. I welcomed her with a smile and invited her in.
— Before we see the living room, I want to show you a few things, I said in a relaxed tone.
I led her through the house, explaining the responsibilities.
— Here’s the dishwasher. You’ll need to load it every night because Mihai doesn’t do it. The kids’ clothes are washed here, but be careful to separate the delicate items. And here’s the list of their extracurricular activities. They need to be picked up from the club on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but Wednesdays are free.
Irina looked bewildered, her smile gradually fading from her face.
— And this is the kitchen, where you’ll be cooking all the meals. Mihai likes his steak rare, but the kids only want it well done. Oh, and don’t expect any thanks; Mihai isn’t very good at manners.
Finally, Irina stammered:
— Livia, I… I didn’t offer to do all this.
At that moment, Mihai walked in. He froze when he saw us together.
— What’s going on here? he asked in a tense voice.
— I was explaining to Irina and your future in-laws how the house works, I replied cheerfully.
Just then, Irina’s parents arrived at the door.
— Thank you for coming, Anca and Horațiu. Your daughter got along so well with Mihai that I thought it was time to officially integrate her into the family.
Irina tried to explain herself, but it was already too late.
I turned to Mihai.
— I’ve let myself go, haven’t I? Well, now it’s your turn. I’m leaving you the house, the kids, and your new life. Enjoy!
And with a victorious smile, I left, leaving the chaos behind.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher do not assume responsibility for the accuracy of events or for how characters are portrayed and are not liable for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed belong to the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
