After a traumatic betrayal, Kiera believed a week in Seattle would heal her. A alarming discovery on her doorbell camera three days into the trip forced her to rush home. She saw what on the footage?
I just returned from a week in Seattle and have lots to talk about.
Let me start by saying I’ve always been quite secretive, especially at home.
Imagine my surprise when I learned my staff let my nosy neighbor into my house while I was in another city.
vid
I was shocked by more than simply the invasion of privacy. I was chilled by what I heard.
Let me back up before I get into that mess.
Kiera here, and things was perfect until a few weeks ago. I had a loving husband, a nice home, and high dreams.
I lost everything when I discovered my husband was cheating.
My husband Brett and I were married eight years. Eight years! That seemed like a long time. I never thought he would cheat on me, but…
You ask how I found out? It was Tuesday evening. I came home early from work to surprise Brett with his favorite band tickets.
Instead, I was surprised. He was on the couch with another woman.
Every event after that is obvious to me.
“Brett?” Oh, I gasped.
Jumping up, he was pallid. “Kiera! I can explain!”
But no explanation was needed. Scene spoke for itself.
“How long?” Shaking voice, I asked.
Brett looked down.
He murmured, “A year.”
“A year! Can you believe it? A shout. “A year of deception!”
I felt too much grief and betrayal then.
I felt like someone had shattered my heart. My anger was immense. In addition, I was sad.
Sad that eight years of trust and affection were wasted so quickly. And betrayed? You bet. I believed I knew my partner, but he had been living a double life for a year.
Worse, this bombshell hit as we were remodeling our kitchen.
My kitchen currently. Yes, I owned the house. I was unexpectedly grateful for this.
“Get out,” I said.
“Kiera, please, let’s talk about this,” Brett urged.
I stopped talking.
I went to our bedroom, grabbed armfuls of his clothes, and threw them out the front door.
“I said leave!”
He apologized and begged for another opportunity, but I couldn’t forgive him. Not now, maybe never.
After he departed, I sobbed.
I called my best friend Livia because I needed to talk.
I cried over the phone, “Livia, Brett’s been cheating on me.”
Livia said, “Oh, honey,” seeming worried. I’m sorry. Why not visit Seattle? Remove yourself, cleanse your mind.”
Escaping sounded great.
Are you sure? Wiping my tears, I asked.
“Totally! We’ll have fun, guaranteed. This will improve your mood.”
So I agreed.
I packed my luggage, closed my bedroom, and granted the workers kitchen access only. I planned to monitor them via the doorbell camera to ensure they arrived and left on schedule.
Flight to Seattle was hazy. Livia welcomed me when I landed.
We talked about everything late that night. I opened up about my broken marriage.
“I just can’t believe he did this to me,” I remarked, sipping wine on Livia’s couch.
My hand was squeezed by Livia.
Kiera, I know it hurts, but you’re strong. You’ll survive.”
Her words and presence lifted me. I suddenly had hope that everything will be well.
After three days at her house, we explored Seattle. Fate had other ideas.
I glanced at my phone’s doorbell footage while getting ready.
What I saw froze me.
Through the doorbell camera’s fisheye lens, I observed my neighbor Greta nonchalantly enter my house behind the worker. She always bugged everyone, but why did she come to my house? She couldn’t enter without my consent!
As I watched, uncertainty became wrath. Greta and the worker passed through my kitchen, and I heard their chat.
“Poor Kiera,” Greta said. “I heard she made Brett leave because of a big demand.”
What the heck? My thoughts. What’s she talking about?
The worker said, “Really? I suspected he broke her trust.”
Oh, who knows? Greta replied. Perhaps she was too bossy. Some women are like that.”
What I heard was unbelievable. She breached my privacy and gossiped about one of my worst moments in my house!
Their voices faded as they went away from the door, and I couldn’t hear their conversation. I’d heard enough.
Blood was boiling. How dare they?
“Livia!” Shaking with wrath, I shouted. I must return home. Now.”
“What? Why?” Livia seemed lost. “I thought we were exploring the city.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief when I showed her the footage.
“Wow, Kiera. That’s awful!”
“I know,” I answered packing my luggage. “I need to confront Greta and see what’s happening.”
My thoughts raced with things to say to Greta as I booked the next ticket home.
Flight seemed infinite. I felt anxious and irritated when I arrived home.
I marched to my front door and unlocked it fast. I was ready for what was inside.
My face grew pale when I entered my finished kitchen. The kitchen was nothing what I imagined.
I arrived to find the kitchen covered in old, ugly draperies and the white counters replaced with a dreadful shade of yellow.
Everywhere seemed nasty and incorrect.
“What the heck?” Terrified, I whispered.
I heard a happy voice behind me.
“Kiera! You returned early!”
It was Greta. She stood in the doorway beaming.
“Greta,” I said, attempting to speak clearly. “What happened to my kitchen?”
Her smile broadened.
Isn’t it great? I saw how dreary and depressing it was previously and realized it was because of your separation with Brett. I decided to lighten things up! Make you happy.”
I fixated on her. She fully changed my kitchen without my permission since she felt I was sad?
“Greta,” I said, “you had no right to enter my home or change my kitchen.”
“But… Just trying to help. You deserve thanks!”
“Thankful?” Not believing my hearing. “You broke into my home, gossiped about my personal life, and ruined my kitchen remodel! You believe I should be grateful?
Greta flushed.
I never! You’re ridiculous and unjust!”
I breathed deeply, understanding arguing with her was fruitless.
I took out my phone.
The HOA will receive this video of Greta entering my home without authorization. They’ll tackle trespassing. What you did is wrong!”
Her face transformed when she recognized her predicament. She fled the house without saying a word.
After she went, I looked around my kitchen and realized Greta’s “changes” would take weeks to reverse.
“Oh, well,” I breathed deeply as I removed the hideous curtains.
Though exhausted, I knew I couldn’t quit. This was simply another challenge I would overcome. Greta was unpleasant, but I was stronger than this and couldn’t let her destroy my peace.
This taught me that life offers you harsh situations, but you can’t let them break you. You must emerge stronger, ready for whatever comes next. That was my plan.
