When I go away on business trips, I always think everything at home is calm and normal. My wife Emmie and our daughter Leila have their routines, and I imagine them carrying on like usual. I never thought I’d come home to find a ghost story and a strange man hiding in my closet.
Yeah, a man.
But let me start from the beginning.
Emmie and I have been married for fifteen years. We’ve built a life together—full of ups and downs, just like any other family. We have a daughter, Leila, who’s ten years old now. She’s full of life, always asking questions, and she lights up our home with her laughter.
Everything in our life felt… normal. Beautifully normal. Until Leila started talking about ghosts.
At first, I didn’t think much of it. Kids imagine things all the time, right? I thought it was just a story she made up—something she heard at school or saw on TV.
Because of my job, I travel a lot. Emmie and I have learned how to work around it. She’s always been supportive, even when I expected her to be frustrated or upset.
“Your job is important,” Emmie said one evening while chopping vegetables for dinner. “Sure, it takes you away sometimes, but you love it. That matters too.”
I hadn’t expected her to say that. But that’s Emmie—kind, understanding, and so much stronger than I ever gave her credit for.
So when my firm asked me to travel out of state for a meeting with new investors, I didn’t worry. I knew my family would be fine.
“How long this time?” she asked, stirring a pot on the stove.
“Just over a week,” I said, grabbing a handful of roasted nuts from the jar.
“That’s not too bad,” she said, smiling. “You’ll be back before we know it.”
It would be easy to think maybe she wanted me to go—that she enjoyed the space. But the way she helped me pack, the little notes and chocolate she tucked into my suitcase, reminded me just how much she cared.
“Will you be okay with Leila after school?” I asked. “I could ask my mom.”
Emmie laughed. We both knew the truth—my mother loved Leila, but she had her limits. Spoiling Leila for an hour or two? Perfect. Watching her every day after school? Not so much.
“I already asked my mom,” Emmie said. “She’s coming over the night before you leave to help with the airport drop-off.”
The week passed quickly—homework, work meetings, and getting ready for the trip.
The night before I left, Marie, my mother-in-law, arrived.
“Another trip?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “You sure travel a lot, Duncan.”
Emmie drove me to the airport the next morning. She straightened my tie before I got out of the car and kissed me goodbye.
While I was away, I focused on work. But after a few days, our meeting wrapped up earlier than expected. I decided to surprise my girls and came home a day ahead of schedule.
Before going home, I made a quick stop at their favorite bakery. I picked up chocolate croissants for Emmie and strawberry cupcakes for Leila—just like old times.
When I walked through the door, Leila ran to me and jumped into my arms.
“Dad! You’re home!” she squealed.
“My trip ended early,” I said, hugging her tight.
Even though I love my job, I know I miss moments—little things that matter in a child’s life. So I tried to make up for it.
“How about ice cream before Mom gets home?” I asked.
Leila’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Grandma, we’re going out!” she shouted.
As we walked and ate our cones, Leila suddenly turned serious.
“Dad,” she said softly. “There’s a ghost in the house.”
I blinked. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
She stared at her ice cream, watching a drop fall onto her shoe.
“The other night,” she whispered, “I was going to the bathroom and I saw it. A ghost. Floating by the stairs.”
I didn’t want to laugh, but I was caught off guard. “Maybe it was Grandma?”
“No,” she said. “Grandpa didn’t come this time. Grandma said he stayed home with their cat.”
That made me pause. Her voice was calm, not joking.
“Well,” I said gently, “if you see anything strange again, come straight to me, okay?”
Leila nodded, and we walked home.
Emmie was back, helping Leila with homework. Dinner smelled delicious. Marie wasn’t around, so I assumed she was resting in the guest room.
I thought I’d wait until the weekend to unpack. But Emmie hated mess, and she’d ask about my half-packed suitcase the minute she saw it.
So I went into our bedroom and opened the walk-in closet.
What I saw made my blood run cold.
There, half-hidden between my suits and Emmie’s dresses, was an older man, buttoning up his shirt.
“EMMIE!” I shouted so loudly it echoed through the house. “What the hell is this?! Who IS this man?!”
Footsteps thundered toward me—Emmie and Leila came running.
“Duncan?” Emmie asked, wide-eyed. “What’s going on?”
“I should be asking you that,” I said, pointing to the closet. “Who is this?”
“What man?” she said, confused.
Then the man peeked out of the closet.
Emmie screamed.
“WHO ARE YOU?” she gasped.
I stood frozen, heart pounding. In that moment, I honestly thought I’d come home to find my wife having an affair.
But the shock on her face said otherwise. She had no idea who he was either.
“That’s the ghost!” Leila yelled, clinging to Emmie. “I saw him last night!”
“What?” Emmie and I said at the same time.
“Call the police!” Emmie whispered.
Just then, Marie walked in holding a glass of water.
“What’s going on?” she asked—and then stopped cold when she saw the man.
“Tony?” she said, stunned. “You’re still here?”
“YOU KNOW HIM?!” Emmie gasped.
Marie looked pale. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.
“Explain yourself, Mom,” Emmie said, voice shaking.
“I’ve… I’ve been seeing Tony for a while,” Marie admitted.
I turned to Leila.
“Sweetie, why don’t you go watch some cartoons?” I said.
She ran out quickly, not looking back.
“You’ve been cheating on Dad?” Emmie asked her mother, sinking onto the bed.
Marie looked like she had seen a ghost.
“Your father and I have had problems for years,” Marie said softly. “He doesn’t know about Tony. And I don’t think I can tell him.”
“You brought him here?” Emmie shouted. “To our home? While you were supposed to be watching our daughter?”
“I thought you’d be gone longer,” Marie whispered. “Tony was just leaving when Emmie got home. So he hid.”
“You have to promise not to tell your father,” Marie begged.
Emmie didn’t respond. She got up and left the room.
“Duncan,” Marie said to me, “please talk to her. This has to stay a secret.”
“I don’t know, Marie,” I said. “That’s Emmie’s decision.”
Marie and Tony left shortly after.
That evening, Emmie and I sat down with mugs of tea.
“I can’t believe my mother,” she said.
“At least now it’s out in the open,” I replied. “No more secrets.”
“But how am I supposed to keep this from my dad?” she said, wiping her eyes. “And why would she bring him here? With Leila in the house?”
I nodded. I couldn’t understand it either.
“She’s free to live her life,” I said. “But not like this. Not here.”
“For a second,” I admitted, “I thought the guy was here for you.”
Emmie looked at me.
“That’s a bigger conversation,” she said. “But yeah, I get it. It must’ve been terrifying.”
Turns out Tony had panicked when he heard the front door. He ducked into our bedroom and hid in the closet, hoping to sneak out later. Marie had no idea he was still there.
“It’s a mess,” Emmie said. “And now it’s my mess to clean up.”
“You don’t have to lie for her,” I said. “And Leila shouldn’t have been involved at all.”
Later that night, after we tucked Leila into bed, Emmie sat beside me, quiet.
“I don’t want to hurt my mom,” she said finally.
“Sleep on it,” I told her.
As I lay in bed, I kept thinking—what if I hadn’t come home early? Would Tony still have been hiding? Would Leila keep seeing her “ghost”?
It scared me to think of a stranger roaming our house while my wife and daughter were alone.
I don’t know what Emmie will decide. But I know my job now is to support her. And make sure Leila is safe.
What would you do?
