My husband slapped divorce papers on the table and told me I had 48 hours to pack my things and get out because his new girlfriend owned the house now. I smiled, said nothing, and agreed like it didn’t matter. But the moment she walked through that front door, she realized that house came with a nightmare she never saw coming.

you the house is yours?”

She lifted her chin. “He transferred it to me last month.”

I smiled.

Not because it was funny. Because suddenly I understood exactly how foolish both of them had been.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be out in forty-eight hours.”

That unsettled Eric more than a fight would have. He narrowed his eyes, searching my face for panic that never continue reading …