My Divorced Neighbor Told Me, “I’m Going to Steal Your Husband, So You’d Better Prepare for Divorce” — I Decided…

I stared at her.

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“You came into my house to tell me this?”

She shrugged.

“I’m just being honest. Woman to woman.”

I stood up.

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“Then woman to woman, you should go home.”

That night, I told Irvin everything.

His face hardened.

I’m done helping her.”

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And he meant it.

But Vanessa didn’t stop. She flirted with him over the fence, brought cookies, and found excuses to touch his arm.

Then she announced a neighborhood barbecue.

Irvin received an invitation.

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I didn’t.

“I’m not going,” he said.

I thought about every fake emergency Vanessa had invented to borrow my husband.

“Actually,” I said, “I think you should go.”

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He looked confused.

“Trust me.”

The next afternoon, Irvin went to the barbecue alone.

Thirty minutes later, I arrived carrying a large gift box.

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Vanessa looked annoyed.

“What are you doing here?”

“I brought you a gift.”

Inside were a hammer, screwdrivers, batteries, lightbulbs, a jar opener, a home-repair manual, and a list of local handymen.

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“Now you don’t need my husband every time something breaks.”

The neighbors laughed nervously.

Vanessa tried to brush it off.

“I was joking.”

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“No, you weren’t. You sat

in my kitchen and told me you planned to take my husband.”

The laughter stopped.

Irvin walked over and put his arm around me.

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“Claire’s right. Stop calling me for things around your house.”

We went home.

I thought that was the end.

It wasn’t.

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Soon, complaints began appearing. Then an official letter arrived saying my home bakery had to stop operating because the converted garage had never received final approval for commercial use.

I had permits and had passed inspections, but the garage itself had a paperwork problem.

Vanessa had found a real weakness.

I had wedding cakes and corporate orders scheduled, and suddenly my ovens were useless.