My Husband Locked Me Out of Our Home for Another Woman Chapter 01

My Husband Locked Me Out of Our Home for Another Woman Chapter 01

When I listed the riverfront condo I had put a $450,000 down payment on, Naomi Walker, my realtor, asked how I could stand to price it so low just to sell it fast.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. “Because of a cashmere throw blanket.”

The night before, I had worked late. By the time I got home, a sharp flare-up of my chronic stomach pain had me breaking out in a cold sweat right there in the living room.

All I wanted was to open the master bedroom door and collapse onto the bed.

But Nolan Whitmore pressed his hand against the doorknob and frowned.

“Don’t go in there. Those silk sheets and that cashmere throw are Sienna’s favorites. Last time you lay there, your perfume lingered, and it triggered her insomnia so badly she didn’t sleep a wink.”

He pulled the door firmly shut and lowered his voice, trying to coax me.

“Just put up with it for tonight. Sleep on the couch. Sienna was just discharged after treatment for severe depression. We need to be more understanding.”

The way he stood guard over the master bedroom cut into me.

All at once, the home I had spent half a year building, running from showroom to showroom, watching over the renovations, suddenly felt so cold it made me shiver.

I did not question him like I usually would.

I only turned around in silence and walked back to the couch in the living room.

Nolan glanced at me, assuming I was sulking again.

With a helpless shake of his head, he went back to the study.

I stared at the notification on my phone confirming my mortgage payoff and lien release appointment, then closed my eyes and fell asleep.

That cage called Mrs. Whitmore? I was not walking into it.

…

When I snapped out of it, my stomach was still cramping.

The living room light had been left on. A half-full glass of cold water sat on the coffee table.

Nolan had not brought me any medicine.

I pushed myself upright on the couch, the backs of my hands damp with cold sweat.

Light leaked from the crack beneath the master bedroom door. Inside, white noise was playing.

It was the rain sound Sienna Shaw always needed before bed.

I held on to the wall and walked over.

A sign hung from the doorknob.

[Sleeping. Please Do Not Disturb.]

The sign was new.

I had not bought it.

I tried the door.

It was locked from the inside.

Nolan’s voice came from the study.

“Elena Hart, stop messing with the door.”

I turned to look at him.

He was in pajamas, holding a cup of warm water.

The water was not for me.

He set it on the small cabinet outside the master bedroom.

“Sienna wakes up in the middle of the night and needs warm water.”

I asked, “Where’s my stomach medicine?”

He paused.

“I’ll buy you some tomorrow.”

I opened the medicine cabinet by the entryway.

My antacids had expired three months ago.

Sienna’s sleep medication, however, had been sorted neatly into a weekly pill organizer, each compartment labeled with the date and dosage.

Nolan walked over and pressed his hand down on the cabinet.

“Don’t touch her medication.”

I closed the cabinet.

“When did she put her medicine in here?”

“She just got out of the hospital. Her doctor said she needed a stable environment.”

“This is our future marital home.”

His brows pulled tight.

“Do you have to be this petty? She’s only staying here for a few nights.”

I walked toward the guest room.

When I opened the door, wedding favors were stacked inside.

Sienna’s easel leaned against the wall. Her yoga mat lay on the floor.

I turned back to him.

“So the guest room is hers too?”

Nolan avoided my eyes.

“Painting helps stabilize her mood.”

I unlocked my phone.

A price estimate from the real estate app popped up. It was far lower than what I had paid.

I sat back down on the couch and opened my banking app.

The remaining mortgage, early payoff rules, prepayment penalties—every detail was laid out in black and white.

Nolan stood beside me.

“What are you doing now?”

I did not look up.

“Checking the numbers.”

He sighed.

“Elena, grow up. Sienna is sick. You’re healthy. Don’t fight her over a bed.”

My fingers froze.

Fight her over a bed.

I had spent half a year going through renovation showrooms, watching the carpenters, the wiring, the plumbing, the furniture, every last detail.

That bed had been the one I chose after visiting seven different stores.

And now he called it fighting.

I opened the purchase agreement.

Owner: Elena.

Borrower: Elena.

The down payment wire receipt was saved in my cloud drive.

The renovation contract was there too.

When Nolan saw the screen, his expression changed.

“Why are you looking at all that?”

I locked my phone.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He lowered his voice.

“Don’t wake Sienna.”

I looked at the master bedroom door.

Someone else’s sign was hanging there.

Someone else’s blanket was on that bed.

Someone else’s medicine was in that room.

I picked up my phone and messaged Naomi.

Elena: [Can this condo be sold quickly?]

Naomi replied almost immediately.

Naomi: [Are you really willing to let it go?]

I replied: [I am.]

The white noise in the master bedroom paused for a second.

Nolan immediately turned and knocked on the door.

“Sienna? Are you awake?”

I placed my phone face down on the coffee table.

If the master bedroom in this condo no longer belonged to me, then the condo did not need to belong to us either.