Turns Out I Rented an Apartment to My Husband’s Mistress, and Their Next Date There Was One I’ll Never Forget — Story of the Day
Every morning, I made him breakfast. Just like always—coffee, an omelet, the soft glow of early sunlight pouring into our kitchen. It was quiet, peaceful. Too peaceful. Then I saw her name light up on his phone. By sunset, I had already rented an apartment to his mistress. And in my coat pocket, I held the spare key—and a plan. That morning started like any other. I set the table with our usual plates—the ones with little blue cornflowers around the edges. Aunt Joyce gave them to us as a