My Husband’s Ex-Wife Moved in With Us and Stylishly Re-uniting, Lady Laments – See Story
When I met my husband 10 years ago, he had been divorced for two years. “Lindy” turned into a party girl after their divorce. Never around for the kids and very flaky. We have custody of their two children. Lindy was out of the picture for years, but she reemerged and texted my husband. She says she’s changed her focus in life and is getting herself together. She told my husband that she’s moving to Australia to start a new job and new healthy life. A few weeks later, I come home from work and find Lindy in my house having a glass of wine. My husband took me aside and told me that Lindy will be staying in our guest room for three weeks. He said her lease was up and this arrangement is temporary, and it will help her to save money until she leaves for Australia. I was upset that he didn’t consult me on it, but I let it go.
It’s now three months later and Lindy’s “job” keeps getting pushed back. I don’t think it ever existed. The worst part is I feel totally pushed out of my own family.
My husband works from home so he is hanging around all day with his ex. I come home from work to find my husband sitting down with Lindy (and sometimes the kids), having dinner that she made, laughing at their old jokes, and having a wonderful time. Lindy also does my husband’s laundry, then says, “You are so busy. I don’t mind.” But I do! My stepdaughter has always had a picture of her mom in her bedroom, which is fine with me, but now it’s in our living room! And the last straw—I came home and found my husband in bed reading, as Lindy was organizing our closet! “It’s such a mess. Let me help.” My skin crawls at the thought of her looking through all my things.
I’ve spoken to my husband and he says it’s cute that I’m being jealous. He also said that he’s not going to put the mother of his children out on the street, nor pay for a motel. I want her out of my life and my husband and stepkids back, and my husband is doing nothing about it. I don’t know how much longer I can hang on, and I’m thinking that’s what she wants—to slip into my life as I slam the door behind me. Help, please.