At 52, I thought I’d seen every kind of husband-stealer, until Amber moved in next door — 25, blonde, freshly divorced, and armed with stilettos and a silk robe. From the start, she made it clear my Andy was her next target, showing up at fences, jogging by in skimpy outfits, and inventing “emergencies” that required his help. I baked muffins to welcome her, but when she greeted me in barely-there lingerie and purred about Andy being a “gentleman,” I knew I was dealing with trouble.

It escalated fast. She waved at him every morning, asked him to carry “heavy boxes,” and even staged a fake bathroom flood. But when Andy walked into her house and found rose petals, candles, and Amber waiting in lace lingerie, his loyalty shone through. “Are you insane? I’m a married man!” he snapped, walking out without a second glance. That’s when I knew it was my turn to deal with her.

Using Andy’s spare phone, I lured Amber into thinking he wanted a secret rendezvous. That evening, instead of Andy waiting for her, she walked into my living room full of neighborhood women — from retired cops to PTA warriors — all ready to deliver a much-needed lesson. For 20 minutes, we laid it out: her manipulations, her disrespect, her pathetic attempt to wreck a 30-year marriage. She left humiliated, stripped of her fake confidence.

Two days later, a “For Sale” sign appeared in her yard, and within weeks, she was gone. Andy, still clueless about the trap I’d set, simply said, “Strange she left so suddenly.” I just smiled, sipping my coffee. The truth is, women like Amber think they can outsmart experience, but they underestimate one thing: wives like me don’t just defend our marriages — we win.