My husband Kurt and I flew across the country to visit my sister, Sasha. She had been so excited when I told her we were finally coming to see her. Over the phone, she practically squealed.
“Tina, I can’t believe you’re actually coming! I’ve been cleaning for days. I even turned my office into a real guest room!”
Sasha lived alone in a cozy apartment two states away. After her last terrible breakup, she’d sworn off dating and rarely had people stay over. So when we finally arrived in Asheville, the smile on her face made all the travel stress worth it. She hugged me tight the moment we walked through her door.
Her little apartment smelled like fresh flowers and lemon cleaner. She’d even set up a pull-out couch for us, with clean sheets and a tiny vase of daisies on the side table.
“This place is perfect,” Kurt said, tossing his bag down and flopping onto the bed.
Sasha smiled, glowing with pride. “I’m just so happy you’re here! I’ve made a list of places to take you. We’re going to have such a fun time.”
That first night felt like magic. We ordered pizza, drank wine, and stayed up talking and laughing until nearly 2 a.m. Kurt, as always, was his charming, goofy self.
He made Sasha laugh so hard she had to hold her sides.
“I haven’t laughed this hard in months,” she giggled, wiping tears from her eyes after one of his over-the-top impressions.
It felt like a dream. But the next morning… something felt different.
I woke up and walked into the kitchen where Sasha was already making coffee. Her movements were sharp and stiff, like something was bothering her. Kurt came in right after me, stretching and yawning.
“Morning, ladies! Something smells great,” he said cheerfully.
Sasha forced a small smile. “Good morning.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Did you sleep okay, Sash?”
“Fine,” she replied flatly, pouring coffee into one mug—hers. Not Kurt’s.
Kurt laughed awkwardly. “What about me? Don’t I get the sister-in-law treatment?”
She didn’t even glance at him. “Coffee’s in the pot.” Then she grabbed her mug and left the room without another word.
Kurt looked confused. “Guess she’s not a morning person.”
But I knew my sister. Sasha was always warm and welcoming. This wasn’t about mornings. Something was off.
“Maybe she’s just not used to having people around,” I tried to reason.
“Whatever,” Kurt muttered.
But it got worse. That afternoon, every time Kurt entered the room, Sasha left. He’d barely say “Hi” before she suddenly remembered something urgent—like needing to check her email, or suddenly deciding to water her plants. When Kurt offered to help make lunch, she all but sprinted into the kitchen alone.
I tried to keep the peace. “I’m going to explore downtown a bit,” I said after lunch. “Kurt, want to come?”
“Nah,” he said. “Still tired from the flight. I’ll stay and relax.”
I didn’t miss the way Sasha’s face went pale.
“Actually, Tina, maybe I should come with you?” she said quickly. “Remember that art gallery I told you about?”
“You sure?” I asked.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
At the gallery, Sasha barely spoke. She kept glancing at her watch like she was counting the minutes until something bad happened.
“Sasha, is everything okay?” I asked quietly.
She gave a small smile. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” But her eyes told a different story.
The next day, it got even weirder.
I came back from a solo walk that morning to find the apartment empty. No note. No message. When Sasha finally walked in around dinnertime, she looked like a zombie.
“Where were you all day?” I asked.
“Just… errands. Work stuff.” She looked exhausted.
“You look wiped out. Let me cook tonight.”
“I’m not hungry,” she whispered, dropping the groceries on the counter before walking straight to her bedroom.
That night, I sat in silence eating reheated leftovers while Kurt watched TV like everything was normal.
Then at 2:17 a.m., my phone buzzed.
It was a text from Sasha: “Can we talk? It’s urgent.”
My heart pounded as I turned to find Kurt’s side of the bed empty. Cold. Where was he?
I crept down the hall and found Sasha sitting cross-legged on her bed, pale and tense.
“Sash? What’s wrong?”
“Please sit down,” she said softly.
I sat on the edge of her bed, heart racing.
“Tina, I love you more than anything. Having you here has been… complicated.”
“Sasha, you’re scaring me.”
She took a deep breath. “I need you and Kurt to leave. Tomorrow morning. Please, get a hotel.”
“What? Why??” I gasped.
She looked down at her lap. “It’s Kurt. What he’s been doing… I can’t take it anymore.”
“Doing what?”
“He’s taken over my bathroom, Tina. I haven’t been able to use it properly since you got here.”
“That can’t be right—”
“Yesterday at 4 a.m., I needed to change my pad. I knocked and knocked. He wouldn’t come out. I waited an hour. An hour, Tina.”
My jaw dropped.
“Later that day, I had to drive to the gas station because he was in there for three hours. He didn’t even answer when I begged him to let me in for two minutes!”
I tried to stay calm. “Maybe… he’s just having stomach issues? Travel sickness?”
She shook her head. “Three days of constant bathroom time? Come on, Tina. He’s holding my only bathroom hostage.”
“Okay. Okay, I’ll talk to him.”
The rest of that night, I barely slept. My mind was spinning. Was Kurt really locking himself in her bathroom for hours? Why?
At 6 a.m., Kurt finally walked back into the room. I pretended to sleep, peeking through my lashes as he plugged in his phone and headed into the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, he came out.
“Hey, beautiful. Sleep okay?”
“Where were you last night?” I asked bluntly.
“Couldn’t sleep. Took a walk.” He avoided my eyes.
“Kurt, Sasha says you’ve been spending hours in her bathroom. She can’t even use it.”
He laughed. “What? That’s crazy. I’ve just been playing games on my phone. It’s quiet in there.”
“You’ve been in there for hours. That’s not normal.”
“This city is boring, Tina. There’s nothing to do. The bathroom is just peaceful.”
I stared at him. Something wasn’t right.
When he left for the shower, I looked at his phone. No lock screen. No games. But there was one app I didn’t recognize—a dating app.
I opened it. My stomach turned.
Flirty messages with someone named “Mickie.” Blonde. Flirty. Fake.
Kurt: “Can’t wait to meet you tonight, gorgeous. 😘 My wife has no idea.”
Mickie: “Room 237. I’ll be waiting 💋💋”
I froze. The bathroom. The constant disappearances. The cologne. It wasn’t games. It was cheating.
He came out of the bathroom, whistling.
I held up the phone. “Looking for this?”
He stopped dead in his tracks. His face went pale.
“Tina, I can explain—”
“Oh, you’re gonna explain alright. Explain how you’ve been using my sister’s bathroom to cheat on me. In her house.”
“I was just texting! I never met her! I was bored!”
“Bored?? You humiliated me and disrespected Sasha for boredom?”
Sasha came out of her room, arms crossed. She’d heard everything.
“Pack your stuff,” I snapped. “You’re done here.”
We threw his things onto the street. Kurt stood there, shocked.
“Tina, don’t do this. It didn’t mean anything!”
“Find a hotel. We’re done.”
Sasha pointed down the road. “Motel 6 is two miles that way.”
We watched him drag his suitcase down the sidewalk.
The next morning, over coffee and real laughter, my phone rang.
“Tina! Thank God. Mickie wasn’t even a woman. It was a man! A scammer! He robbed me, took all my money and cards—”
I laughed out loud.
“Tina, this isn’t funny!”
“Oh, it’s hilarious.”
“What do I even tell the police? That I was meeting strangers behind my wife’s back in a hotel?”
“Sounds like a you problem, Kurt.”
“Can we just go home and forget this ever happened?”
“Sure. We can go home. But when we get there, your stuff will be on my porch. My house. My name’s on the deed, remember?”
He didn’t answer for a long time.
“Tina…?”
“Enjoy your freedom, Kurt. And next time you want to play games in a bathroom, use a public one. Then you’ll only ruin strangers’ lives.”
I hung up.
Sasha raised her coffee mug. “To sisters who have each other’s backs.”
“And to sniffing out lies… even if they start in the bathroom.”
We burst into laughter—the kind that heals.
On the flight home, I sat two rows ahead of Kurt. I didn’t look back once.
Now he’s free to sit in all the public bathrooms he wants, swiping for love and losing his dignity.
As for me? I’ve learned something important:
When someone shows you who they really are… believe them.
Trust isn’t like a bone that heals stronger. It’s like a mirror. Once cracked, no matter how hard you try, the reflection is never the same again.
And I refuse to spend my life staring at shattered glass.