The Lingerie Thief Next Door - Chapter 5: Chapter 5
You are reading The Lingerie Thief Next Door, Chapter 5: Chapter 5. Read more chapters of The Lingerie Thief Next Door.
After a sleepless night, I forced myself to shake it off and keep moving forward.
I couldn't just walk away from my family—my husband, my son—over one ugly incident. But I had to get my father-in-law out of my house.
The next day, I came home from work at lunchtime to find my husband still out. Leonard, however, had already prepped a meal and was waiting for us. The place was unnervingly tidy.
When I called my husband, he said he'd be back in ten minutes. I headed to the balcony to wash the lingerie I'd tossed aside the night before—only to stop dead in my tracks.
It was already there.
My beige bra and panties swayed on the line, taunting me.
Heat rushed to my face. "Dad!" My voice was sharp enough to cut glass. "I told you—I wash my own clothes. Why would you touch these?"
Leonard blinked, all innocence. "I just threw them in with the rest."
My jaw clenched. He was playing dumb.
"These," I hissed, jabbing a finger at the lingerie, "are my things. I've said I'll handle them. What is wrong with you? Do you have no boundaries?"
His face turned beet red. For a split second, guilt flashed in his eyes before he ducked his head like a scolded child.
The look of a man who'd been caught.
Everything I'd bottled up exploded. I flipped the damn table with a crash. "You're getting worse! If you're bored, find something else to do!"
Right on cue, my husband walked in.
His face darkened. "What now? Do you even want this marriage anymore?"
Tears burned my eyes. "Maybe I don't! Is this how you both treat me?"
The air was thick enough to choke on. I grabbed my keys and stormed out.
Outside, the autumn wind kicked dead leaves across the pavement, matching the hollow ache in my chest.
How much longer could I take this? Every day made it clearer—my husband would always side with his father.
Divorce flickered through my mind, but I couldn't lose my home. Or my son.
With a heavy sigh, I called Sophie and headed straight to her place.
We mooched lunch, skipped work, and binged bad TV. I silenced my phone, ignoring the calls from my husband and Leonard.
Sophie shoved a beer into my hand. "Okay, talk. What's eating you?"
I spilled everything.
Her eyes went wide. "No way. Leonard always seemed so… harmless. Just a quiet old man. Why would he do that?"
I let out a bitter laugh. "That's the thing—the quiet ones are always the worst. Six years of marriage, and I never saw it coming."
Sophie exhaled. "So what's the plan?"
"I want him gone," I said flatly. "Back to his hometown. I'll send extra money every month—just no more living together. I'll lose my mind otherwise."
She nodded. "Smart. Don't let this wreck your marriage."
For the next hour, we strategized.
Sophie insisted I needed proof—something undeniable to show my husband exactly who his father really was. Only then could we send Leonard packing without destroying my marriage.
Her solution? A spy camera.
"From what you've told me," she said, "he's not just a creep—he's getting bold. Catch him in the act, show your husband, and watch him squirm. Once the truth's out, sending Leonard back won't just be justified—it'll be necessary."
I couldn't just walk away from my family—my husband, my son—over one ugly incident. But I had to get my father-in-law out of my house.
The next day, I came home from work at lunchtime to find my husband still out. Leonard, however, had already prepped a meal and was waiting for us. The place was unnervingly tidy.
When I called my husband, he said he'd be back in ten minutes. I headed to the balcony to wash the lingerie I'd tossed aside the night before—only to stop dead in my tracks.
It was already there.
My beige bra and panties swayed on the line, taunting me.
Heat rushed to my face. "Dad!" My voice was sharp enough to cut glass. "I told you—I wash my own clothes. Why would you touch these?"
Leonard blinked, all innocence. "I just threw them in with the rest."
My jaw clenched. He was playing dumb.
"These," I hissed, jabbing a finger at the lingerie, "are my things. I've said I'll handle them. What is wrong with you? Do you have no boundaries?"
His face turned beet red. For a split second, guilt flashed in his eyes before he ducked his head like a scolded child.
The look of a man who'd been caught.
Everything I'd bottled up exploded. I flipped the damn table with a crash. "You're getting worse! If you're bored, find something else to do!"
Right on cue, my husband walked in.
His face darkened. "What now? Do you even want this marriage anymore?"
Tears burned my eyes. "Maybe I don't! Is this how you both treat me?"
The air was thick enough to choke on. I grabbed my keys and stormed out.
Outside, the autumn wind kicked dead leaves across the pavement, matching the hollow ache in my chest.
How much longer could I take this? Every day made it clearer—my husband would always side with his father.
Divorce flickered through my mind, but I couldn't lose my home. Or my son.
With a heavy sigh, I called Sophie and headed straight to her place.
We mooched lunch, skipped work, and binged bad TV. I silenced my phone, ignoring the calls from my husband and Leonard.
Sophie shoved a beer into my hand. "Okay, talk. What's eating you?"
I spilled everything.
Her eyes went wide. "No way. Leonard always seemed so… harmless. Just a quiet old man. Why would he do that?"
I let out a bitter laugh. "That's the thing—the quiet ones are always the worst. Six years of marriage, and I never saw it coming."
Sophie exhaled. "So what's the plan?"
"I want him gone," I said flatly. "Back to his hometown. I'll send extra money every month—just no more living together. I'll lose my mind otherwise."
She nodded. "Smart. Don't let this wreck your marriage."
For the next hour, we strategized.
Sophie insisted I needed proof—something undeniable to show my husband exactly who his father really was. Only then could we send Leonard packing without destroying my marriage.
Her solution? A spy camera.
"From what you've told me," she said, "he's not just a creep—he's getting bold. Catch him in the act, show your husband, and watch him squirm. Once the truth's out, sending Leonard back won't just be justified—it'll be necessary."
End of The Lingerie Thief Next Door Chapter 5. Continue reading Chapter 6 or return to The Lingerie Thief Next Door book page.