I Walked in to Find My Husband with His Ex-Wife in Our House — What She Was Doing There Made Me Go Feral

Imagine coming home after a long day, expecting peace, only to find your husband and his ex-wife in your living room. That’s exactly what happened to me. But Melissa wasn’t just there for a chat. What she was doing was beyond anything I could’ve imagined.

Do you know the feeling when you return home after a day full of meetings and deadlines? All you want is just to take a shower, change into a fresh pair of pajamas, and sink into your cozy bed. It’s just the best feeling ever.

A woman reading a book at night | Source: Pexels

A woman reading a book at night | Source: Pexels

I felt the same when I got home from work two weeks ago. All I wanted was my bed, a cup of hot coffee, and the true-crime documentary I’d been watching. I was set to watch episode 3, but what I saw when I stepped inside made me forget everything.

I opened the door, hung the car keys, and began walking towards my room when something unexpected caught my eye. At first, I really thought I was imagining things because it seemed too odd to be true.

A woman looking at her house, feeling shocked | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at her house, feeling shocked | Source: Midjourney

I noticed the couch was gone, the rug was missing, and even the bookshelf had vanished. I checked the hallway and the kitchen, and sure enough, most of the items were missing. The coat closet? Gone. The coffee machine? Gone. The dining table? GONE!

What the heck? I thought. Where’s Roger?

A woman looking at her kitchen and hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at her kitchen and hallway | Source: Midjourney

Roger, my husband, usually came home before me, but I couldn’t see him around. Then, I heard his voice, like he was yelling at someone. It was coming from the end of the hallway. From our living room.

I threw my bag on the kitchen island and followed his voice. As I got closer, another voice echoed through the hallway. It was a woman’s voice.

A close-up shot of a doorknob | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of a doorknob | Source: Pexels

Not ready for what was waiting, I pushed the door open and saw my husband with his ex-wife, Melissa. The woman Roger swore he’d never see again, the one he called “a filthy rich spoiled brat.”

I felt like my heart had jumped up to my throat. Why was Melissa in my house?

“Roger?” I said, interrupting their conversation. “What… What happened to our house?”

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, Liz, you’re here?” Roger asked as if he wasn’t expecting me.

“Yeah, I just got back,” I said. “What’s she doing here?”

“I’ll explain everything,” Roger stuttered. “I’ll fix it, I swear.”

Roger looked desperate for me to stay calm, while Melissa stood there smirking. I almost thought they were having an affair until Melissa’s words sent a wave of pure rage through me.

A woman in her ex's house, looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her ex’s house, looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

“No, you won’t,” she snapped at Roger. “Didn’t you tell her that everything you owned is mine?”

“I… I…” Roger stammered, lost for words.

“Well, honey,” she said, turning to me. “All of this furniture… it belongs to me. You see, your husband and I bought it together when we were married, so I’m just taking back what’s mine.”

What the… I thought. What does she think of herself?

She was practically destroying my house and acting like it was no big deal.

A woman looking at her ex's wife | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at her ex’s wife | Source: Midjourney

I remember staring at her for a few moments, thinking what kind of an evil person would enter their ex’s house and take away most of their furniture.

I wanted to scream, to kick her out, but I couldn’t. Not with Roger just standing there silently and watching as she humiliated me.

“And you’re letting her take everything?” I finally managed to speak, looking straight into Roger’s eyes. “You didn’t even try to stop her? And why didn’t you tell me she was coming? You knew, right?”

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he lowered his gaze. He was too ashamed to even look at me.

“Seriously, Roger? That’s it?” I rolled my eyes. “I never thought you’d let your ex walk out with our whole life! This is ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” Melissa laughed. “I’m sorry honey, but technically everything in your house belongs to me. Even the bed that you two share. I paid for all this stuff, so I have every right to take it.”

Yeah, right, I thought to myself.

A woman in her ex-husband's house | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her ex-husband’s house | Source: Midjourney

It would be true if I said I’ve never felt this humiliated in my entire life. Can you even imagine what kind of patience it took to stop myself from humiliating Melissa?

I could’ve thrown every embarrassing secret Roger had told me about Melissa right back at her, but I wasn’t about to stoop to her level. I wasn’t going to be petty.

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

At that point, I wanted to ask why she needed this old, used furniture when she could afford a brand-new bed set, and the latest model of the automatic coffee machine.

She was wealthy, owning one of the most popular businesses in town, and she could easily afford a fully furnished house.

But I knew why she was doing it. It was all about humiliating me. I could see the jealousy in her eyes.

A close-up shot of a woman's eyes | Source: Midjourney

A close-up shot of a woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney

“Fine,” I spat. “Take it. Take everything you own. But don’t you dare contact me or my husband ever again!”

“Sure, honey,” she said, smirking as if she had won the biggest prize of her life.

I watched as she walked toward the main door and called the workers inside to pick up the remaining furniture. Then, I spotted a truck in our backyard, full of the furniture the workers had already moved.

A man moving a couch | Source: Pexels

A man moving a couch | Source: Pexels

Meanwhile, Roger silently watched the workers tear our house apart. He was helpless, and just as heartbroken as I was.

That’s when I came up with a plan to make Melissa regret her decision.

Right when she stepped outside to look at the truck, I hurried into the kitchen and pulled out a few frozen shrimp from the freezer. Then, I quickly hid them in different places including our side table, the living room chairs, and inside our mattress.

A woman holding a frozen shrimp | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a frozen shrimp | Source: Midjourney

I even stuffed a few of them inside the decorative pillows. I only had to wait for a few days to see the shrimps do their magic.

You see, I knew she wouldn’t keep this furniture in her house. She was probably going to dump it in some storage unit, and I couldn’t wait to see how these little pieces of meat would turn that place into an unbearable stink bomb.

An old chair | Source: Pexels

An old chair | Source: Pexels

As the workers loaded the last piece of furniture into the truck, Melissa gave one final self-satisfied glance around, ensuring she had destroyed our house in every possible way.

“I hope you’ve taken everything that’s YOURS,” I said, my arms crossed.

She nodded. “Yup, I’m done, honey. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Sure, sorry, I thought.

And with that, Melissa left our house and drove away in her shiny SUV. Meanwhile, Roger sat on the ground with his hands on his head.

An upset man sitting on the ground | Source: Midjourney

An upset man sitting on the ground | Source: Midjourney

“I’m so sorry,” he said as tears trickled down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you. She called me a few days ago and told me she’d come over, but I had no idea she was serious. I never thought she’d do this to us.”

I sighed and sat down next to him.

“It’s alright, babe,” I said, caressing his arms. “I wouldn’t want to live in a house furnished by your ex-wife anyway.”

A woman consoling her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman consoling her husband | Source: Midjourney

At that point, I could’ve yelled at Roger, blamed him, and made him feel terrible about the situation, but I knew things weren’t in his control. Besides, that’s exactly what Melissa wanted.

She wanted to see us fight and break apart, and I wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction.

“Instead of apologizing, I want you to buy me new furniture, okay?” I chuckled. “Anything I pick. I want to make this place feel like home again.”

A woman smiling while talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling while talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

“I’ll do that,” he looked up at me with a smile. “I’ll buy every piece of furniture that you want. I promise.”

I held his hand and squeezed it hard.

“I love you, Roger, and I’ll always be there for you,” I said. “We’ll get through this together.”

As we lay on the bedroom floor that night, I realized that I didn’t need Melissa’s furniture to make my house feel like home. I had Roger, and that was all I needed.

But the story doesn’t end here.

A couple sitting together | Source: Pexels

A couple sitting together | Source: Pexels

A few days later, while scrolling through Facebook, I stumbled upon a post in one of the local groups. It was from Melissa, and it was clear she was desperate.

HELP NEEDED URGENTLY! Does anyone know how to get rid of a horrible, rotting meat smell in furniture? I recently moved some old furniture into a storage unit, and within days, it started smelling like something died inside.

I’ve tried airing it out, deep cleaning, and even using baking soda, but nothing works! The smell is unbearable, and I can’t even walk into the storage room without gagging. Please, if anyone has tips, I’m losing my mind here!

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

I couldn’t help but chuckle while reading her frantic post. All her wealth, all her pride, and she was brought down by a few pieces of hidden shrimp.

It was the sweetest revenge. Served cold.

What would you have done if you were in my place?

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: When George told Sylvia she was only half the mom his late wife was and wished SHE had died instead, her world shattered. But she didn’t break. In the face of his cruel words, Sylvia made a decision that would change everything and show just how powerful a mother’s love can be.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Neighbors Installed a Camera Aimed at My Garden – I Taught Them a Savage Lesson Without Going to Court

When my new neighbors installed a camera aimed at my backyard, I knew I had to take action. What started as a simple plan to teach them a lesson about privacy spiraled into a wild performance that caught the attention of the local police — with consequences I never could have predicted.

I never thought I’d become an amateur actor just to teach my nosy neighbors a lesson, but life has a way of surprising you.

A woman looks thoughtfully out of a window | Source: Pexels

A woman looks thoughtfully out of a window | Source: Pexels

It all started when Carla and Frank moved in next door. They seemed nice enough at first, if a bit… off.

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” I said, offering them a basket of tomatoes from my garden. “I’m Zoe.”

Carla’s eyes darted around nervously. “Thank you. We’re very… security-conscious. You understand, right?”

I didn’t, but I nodded anyway. Little did I know what that would mean for me.

A woman in gardening get-up posing on the front porch of a home | Source: Pexels

A woman in gardening get-up posing on the front porch of a home | Source: Pexels

***

A week later, I returned from visiting my mom to find something shocking in my backyard. As I lounged in my swimsuit, tending to my beloved tomatoes, I noticed a small black object under the eaves of their house.

“Is that a camera?” I muttered, squinting at it. My blood ran cold as I realized it was pointed directly at my yard.

I marched over to their house, still in my swimsuit, and pounded on the door. Frank answered, looking annoyed.

“Why is there a camera pointed at my yard?” I demanded.

A woman in swimsuit walking through a suburban garden | Source: Pexels

A woman in swimsuit walking through a suburban garden | Source: Pexels

“That’s ridiculous,” I sputtered. “You’re invading my privacy!”

Carla appeared behind him. “We have a right to protect our property,” she said coldly.

I left, fuming. I could have taken them to court, but who has the time or money for that? No, I needed a different approach.

That’s when I called my friends.

“Samantha, I need your help,” I said. “How do you feel about a little… performance art?”

A woman making a phone call | Source: Midjourney

A woman making a phone call | Source: Midjourney

She laughed. “I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”

I outlined my plan, and soon we had a whole crew on board. Miguel, our resident special effects guru, and Harriet, who never met a costume she didn’t like.

As we planned, I wondered if I was going too far. “Guys, are we sure about this?” I asked during our final meeting.

Samantha put her hand on my shoulder. “Zoe, they’ve been spying on you for weeks. They need to learn a lesson.”

A woman placing her hand on the shoulder of another in support | Source: Midjourney

A woman placing her hand on the shoulder of another in support | Source: Midjourney

Miguel nodded. “Plus, it’ll be fun! When was the last time we did something this crazy?”

Harriet grinned. “I’ve already started on the costumes. You can’t back out now!”

Their enthusiasm was contagious, and I felt my doubts melting away. “Alright, let’s do this.”

The next Saturday, we gathered in my backyard, decked out in the most ridiculous outfits imaginable. I wore a neon green wig and a tutu over a scuba suit.

“Ready for the garden party of the century?” I grinned.

Samantha adjusted her alien mask. “Let’s give those creeps a show they’ll never forget.”

Outrageously-dressed people posing outside a house | Source: Pexels

Outrageously-dressed people posing outside a house | Source: Pexels

We started with normal party activities — if you can call anything normal when you’re dressed like escapees from a circus. We danced, played games, and made sure to stay in view of the camera.

“Hey, Zoe!” Miguel called out, his pirate hat askew. “How’s your mom doing?”

I smiled, remembering my recent visit. “She’s good. Still trying to set me up with her friend’s son.”

Harriet laughed, her Red Riding Hood cape swishing. “Classic mom move. Did you tell her about the camera situation?”

A close-up of a woman with a red hood and a bloody wound on her face | Source: Pexels

A close-up of a woman with a red hood and a bloody wound on her face | Source: Pexels

I shook my head. “Nah, didn’t want to worry her. She’d probably march over here herself and give them a piece of her mind.”

“Honestly,” Samantha chimed in, “that might have been entertaining to watch.”

We all laughed, imagining my feisty mom confronting Carla and Frank. But then it was time for the main event.

“Oh no!” I shrieked, pointing at Samantha. “She’s been stabbed!”

Miguel swiftly brandished a rubber knife covered in ketchup. “Arrr, she had it coming!”

A man in fancy-dress, holding a fake knife | Source: Midjourney

A man in fancy-dress, holding a fake knife | Source: Midjourney

Samantha collapsed dramatically, ketchup “blood” pooling around her. We all started arguing and running around in panic.

“Should we call the police?” Harriet yelled, cape flapping as she hopped around.

“No, we have to hide the body!” I shouted back.

Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine. The neighbor’s curtain twitched. Had someone seen us? The eerie silence that followed was broken only by our ragged breathing.

A view of a house window from a distance | Source: Pexels

A view of a house window from a distance | Source: Pexels

We froze, eyes darting from one to another. The weight of our imaginary crime felt all too real in that moment. A dog barked in the distance, making us all jump.

Time seemed to stretch, each second an eternity as we waited, unsure of what would happen next.

Miguel’s hand trembled as he lowered the ketchup-stained knife. Samantha, still sprawled on the ground, barely dared to breathe. The air grew thick with tension, pressing down on us like a physical force.

A hand holding a "bloody" knife | Source: Midjourney

A hand holding a “bloody” knife | Source: Midjourney

I tried to swallow, but my mouth had gone dry. My mind raced, conjuring up ridiculous scenarios of how we’d explain this scene to anyone who might have witnessed it. Would they believe it was just a game? Or would our silly prank spiral into something far more serious?

A car door slammed somewhere down the street. We all flinched in unison, our nerves stretched to the breaking point. The sound of footsteps seemed to echo in the stillness, growing louder with each passing moment. Had someone called the authorities?

People dressed in scary costumes performing in a backyard | Source: Midjourney

People dressed in scary costumes performing in a backyard | Source: Midjourney

Just then, we heard sirens in the distance. “Showtime,” I whispered. “Everyone inside, quick!”

We dragged Samantha in, cleaned up the ketchup, and changed into normal clothes in record time. By the time the police knocked on my door, we were sitting around the dining table, looking perfectly innocent.

A group of friends gathering for a meal | Source: Pexels

A group of friends gathering for a meal | Source: Pexels

“Is everything alright here?” the officer asked, looking confused.

I put on my best concerned-citizen face. “Of course, officer. Is something wrong?”

She explained that they received a report of a violent crime at this address. I feigned shock, then allowed “realization” to dawn on my face.

“Oh! We were just doing some improv acting in the backyard,” I said. “It must have looked pretty realistic, huh?”

The officer frowned. “How did anyone see into your backyard? Those fences are pretty high.”

A police officer in front of a home | Source: Pexels

A police officer in front of a home | Source: Pexels

I sighed dramatically. “Well, officer, that’s the real problem here. My neighbors have a camera pointed at my yard. They’ve been recording me without my consent.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Is that so? I think we need to have a chat with your neighbors.”

We watched from my window as the police went next door. Carla and Frank looked panicked as they were questioned.

An hour later, the officer returned. “Ma’am, I’m afraid your neighbors have been engaging in some illegal surveillance. We’ve confiscated their equipment and they’ll be facing charges. Would you be willing to make a statement?”

A policewoman standing outside a home's front door | Source: Midjourney

A policewoman standing outside a home’s front door | Source: Midjourney

I tried to look surprised. “That’s terrible! I had no idea it was so extensive. But, of course, I’ll make a statement, and testify in court if it comes to that.”

After the police left, my friends and I celebrated our victory.

“I can’t believe it worked!” Samantha laughed.

Miguel raised his glass. “To Zoe, master of revenge!”

I grinned, but something was nagging at me. “Do you think we went too far?”

Harriet shook her head. “They invaded your privacy. They got what they deserved.”

A woman in a Halloween-like make-up in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a Halloween-like make-up in a living room | Source: Midjourney

***

The next day, I was back in my garden, enjoying the sunshine without worrying about prying eyes. As I tended to my tomatoes, I saw Carla and Frank leaving their house, suitcases in hand.

Part of me felt guilty, but then I remembered all those recordings they had of me. No, they’d made their choice. I just helped them face the consequences.

As I picked a ripe tomato, I smiled to myself. Sometimes, the best way to deal with nosy neighbors isn’t through the courts — it’s through a little creative problem-solving.

A batch of washed garden tomatoes | Source: Pexels

A batch of washed garden tomatoes | Source: Pexels

And hey, if nothing else, at least I now know I have a future in community theater if gardening doesn’t work out.

A week later, I was having coffee with Samantha when she asked, “So, any news about Carla and Frank?”

I shook my head. “Not really. I saw them leave, and I haven’t heard from the cops yet. Maybe they decided not to press charges after all. Can’t say I miss them, though.”

Samantha smirked. “I bet they’d think twice before setting up cameras now.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, then paused. “You know, part of me wonders if we should feel bad. We did kinda turn their lives upside down.”

A woman sitting outdoors and looking way | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting outdoors and looking way | Source: Midjourney

Samantha raised an eyebrow. “Zoe, they were the ones breaking the law. All we did was expose them.”

I nodded, but the guilt lingered. “I know, I know. It’s just… I keep thinking about how scared they looked when the police showed up.”

“Hey,” Samantha said, leaning forward, “remember how violated you felt when you saw that camera? How angry you were? They did that to you for weeks.”

A blonde woman seated outdoors smiling | Source: Midjourney

A blonde woman seated outdoors smiling | Source: Midjourney

I sighed. “You’re right. I guess I’m just not used to being the ‘bad guy’.”

She laughed. “Trust me, you’re not the bad guy here. You’re the hero who stood up for herself.”

Later that day, as I watered my tomatoes, I saw a moving truck pull up to Carla and Frank’s house. A young couple got out, looking excited.

I watched as they unloaded boxes, chatting and laughing. Part of me wanted to go over and introduce myself, maybe warn them about the previous owners. But another part of me just wanted to move on.

A couple unloaded boxes from a car | Source: Pexels

A couple unloaded boxes from a car | Source: Pexels

As I turned back to my garden, I made a decision. I’d give these new neighbors a chance — no preconceptions, no suspicions. But I’d also keep my eyes open. After all, you never know when you might need to throw another garden party.

What would you have done? If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you about a woman whose new neighbor was secretly monitoring her until she faced him one day on a lonely road.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Related Posts

Dog Surrendered for Barking Too Much Gets a Second Chance at Life

24 September 2024 M Love Animals 0

Interesting AuthorAvokadoReading4 minViews687Published by11.05.2024 https://googleads.g.doubleclick.net/pagead/ads?gdpr=1&gdpr_consent=CQFWawAQFWawAEsACBENBIFoAP_gAEPgAABgINJB7C7FbSFCwH5zaLsAMAhHRsAAQoQAAASBAmABQAKQIAQCgkAQFASgBAACAAAAICZBIQIECAAACUAAQAAAAAAEAAAAAAAIIAAAgAEAAAAIAAACAIAAEAAIAAAAEAAAmAgAAIIACAAAhAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAgCAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAQOhSD2F2K2kKFkPCmwXYAYBCujYAAhQgAAAkCBMACgAUgQAgFJIAgCIFAAAAAAAAAQEiCQAAQABAAEIACgAAAAAAIAAAAAAAQQAABAAIAAAAAAAAEAQAAIAAQAAAAIAABEhCAAQQAEAAAAAAAQAAAAAAAAAAABAAA&addtl_consent=2~70.89.93.108.122.149.196.236.259.311.313.323.358.415.449.486.494.495.540.574.609.827.864.981.1029.1048.1051.1095.1097.1126.1205.1276.1301.1365.1415.1449.1514.1570.1577.1598.1651.1716.1735.1753.1765.1870.1878.1889.1958.2072.2253.2299.2373.2415.2506.2526.2568.2571.2575.2624.2677~dv.&client=ca-pub-3764810839868565&output=html&h=183&slotname=3323276105&adk=559090848&adf=632046372&pi=t.ma~as.3323276105&w=730&abgtt=6&fwrn=4&lmt=1727192004&rafmt=11&format=730×183&url=https%3A%2F%2Favokaddo.com%2F2024%2F05%2F11%2Fdog-surrendered-for-barking-too-much-gets-a-second-chance-at-life%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwY2xjawFfuw5leHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHWIsRgW-gER5sK0XBpgRJ1AggfirPsq9VxD0YoVmLbvG08-hLb4BNw3Zvg_aem_-IN_DUncLqwkC3UsV7VQ-w&wgl=1&uach=WyJXaW5kb3dzIiwiMTUuMC4wIiwieDg2IiwiIiwiMTEzLjAuNTIzMC4xMTgiLG51bGwsMCxudWxsLCI2NCIsW1siTm90KUE7QnJhbmQiLCI5OS4wLjAuMCJdLFsiT3BlcmEgR1giLCIxMTMuMC41MjMwLjExOCJdLFsiQ2hyb21pdW0iLCIxMjcuMC42NTMzLjEyMCJdXSwwXQ..&dt=1727192001243&bpp=2&bdt=1552&idt=184&shv=r20240919&mjsv=m202409190101&ptt=9&saldr=aa&abxe=1&cookie=ID%3Dcf59a1ce51a438cf%3AT%3D1723566560%3ART%3D1727191919%3AS%3DALNI_MYJaJOB3bsPSunIOMN7MD4c8CDm-Q&eo_id_str=ID%3D0cc428cd87fc972c%3AT%3D1723566560%3ART%3D1727191919%3AS%3DAA-AfjYewfrC42NEkEIcSuBseT-j&prev_fmts=0x0%2C1100x280&nras=1&correlator=2503209817593&frm=20&pv=1&rplot=4&u_tz=420&u_his=1&u_h=864&u_w=1536&u_ah=864&u_aw=1536&u_cd=24&u_sd=1.125&dmc=8&adx=273&ady=1257&biw=1645&bih=844&scr_x=0&scr_y=0&eid=44759875%2C44759926%2C44759842%2C95339782%2C31087430%2C44798934%2C95342766%2C31087334&oid=2&pvsid=4108274863726719&tmod=1639750104&uas=0&nvt=1&ref=https%3A%2F%2Fl.facebook.com%2F&fc=1920&brdim=0%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1536%2C0%2C0%2C0%2C1661%2C844&vis=1&rsz=%7C%7CopeEbr%7C&abl=CS&pfx=0&fu=128&bc=31&bz=0&psd=W251bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLDNd&nt=1&ifi=3&uci=a!3&btvi=1&fsb=1&dtd=3275 The fact that some people choose to leave their devoted friends behind for the smallest of reasons pains us to […]

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*