My Husband Brought His Mistress Home to Kick Me Out – Little Did He Know, He’d Be Homeless an Hour Later

“Oh, sir,” I croaked. My emotions were finally surfacing.

“But it seems I arrived just in time to see this disaster instead. You don’t deserve any of this,” he continued, and I almost couldn’t handle his kindness.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Thank you, Mr. Duncan… I… I didn’t know what to do, so I just started packing my car.”

He put a reassuring hand on my shoulder while shaking his head. “No need for that. Consider this house yours. I’ll handle all the paperwork, and make it official. It’s also my apology for not raising a better grandson.”

I nodded as tears fell from my eyes.

In the days that followed, Mr. Duncan made good on his word. My name went on the deed, and Logan was cut off from his family’s money and support.

I heard through the grapevine that Brenda didn’t stick around long after she realized the bank accounts were closed off, and apparently, Logan was couch-surfing between friends.

It must have been a blow to his ego because he came crawling back only a week after that scene in my front yard.