
I used to believe friends were the family you chose, and Jessica had been my best friend since college. But the moment I met her husband, Mark, something felt off. His cold eyes behind a warm smile unsettled me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something.
One day, Jessica asked me to check on her house while she was in New York. She claimed Mark didn’t want to care for the house or the cat. I agreed, but it didn’t sit right with me.
When I arrived, everything seemed normal, until I overheard Mark and another woman in the bedroom. They were talking about how he’d tricked Jessica into signing papers that would give him the house. I rushed out, called Jessica, but she refused to believe me, accusing me of jealousy.
Later, Mark showed up at my door, threatening me. But I knew Jessica wouldn’t believe me without proof, so I faked an emergency to bring her back. She finally came and saw the truth. Mark had been cheating and trying to steal her house. With photos in hand, Jessica confronted him.
She kicked him out, calm but determined, saying she already knew something was wrong but needed proof. I was hurt, but I understood. She had trusted me all along. Together, we began the hard work of rebuilding her life.
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