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You Swapped My Bags, I'll Swap You Novel Cover

You Swapped My Bags, I'll Swap You

During a school meeting, a confrontation over a designer bag leads to a devastating discovery. The protagonist realizes her authentic, personalized accessory has been replaced by a fake. When confronted, her husband admits he handed her real bag to a younger woman named Jen, callously suggesting his wife has outgrown such luxury. Insulted by his betrayal and the cheap counterfeit, she realizes her marriage is over. She might lose a husband, but she is determined to get her bag back.
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Chapter 2

At that time, my family was completely against my marriage to Melvin. I ignored their warnings, determined to prove that he loved me for who I was, not for my status as one of the heiresses of Crestford.

So, I hid my identity, planning to test him for five years. If he proved himself, we'd get married. But somehow, he got it into his head that I was desperate to marry him.

Looking back, the whole thing feels like a farce.

I called Dad and said, "You were right. Melvin isn't the one for me."

He wasn't surprised. "Good timing. Let's focus on the overseas deal with Lloyd Group. You should go on a trip abroad to get some peace."

Only now did I realize he'd seen through everything from the start and was just waiting for me to face the truth.

I was packing my bags when Melvin walked in with Finn. As soon as he realized I was leaving, his face darkened.

"Willow, haven't you caused enough trouble?" he snapped. "I put up with you calling the police, and now you're tearing our family apart? Finn hasn't even eaten. Who's going to cook if you leave?"

The audacity of it.

For five years, I—an heiress—had been playing the maid for him, and somehow, he'd been used to it.

I didn't look up. "Whoever wants to cook can take care of it. Call Jenny if you need help."

Melvin let out a weary laugh. "You're still mad at Jen, huh? I've told you before. Nothing's going on between us. The only reason I've been hanging out with her more is because she's Finn's teacher.

"Plus, she's on her own, with no one to lean on. It's honestly kind of heartbreaking. You've got so many bags. Giving one to Jen wouldn't hurt."

While talking, he pulled out a scarf from a red plastic bag. "Jen picked this out just for you. She thought it'd suit your style."

I took one look at the scarf's cheap, garish pattern. "She thinks her ten-buck scarf is a fair trade for my bag that cost a fortune? Nice try."

Melvin's face dropped. "Jen was just being nice! Since when did you get so shallow? All you care about is money. What happened to sincerity? And kindness?"

I was about to say something when Finn suddenly started digging through his backpack and pulled out a drawing. "Look, Mom! I drew our family at kindergarten! That's me, Dad, and Ms. Jacobson. We're eating ice cream at the amusement park!"

I glanced at him. "So where am I?"

He tilted his head and said, "Ms. Jacobson says family portraits are for people close to each other, like a family. You never spend time with me, Mom. You just sent me off to tutoring. And you're old, mean, and fat. I hate you. I wish you were just dead."

My breath caught in my throat. My own son wanted me dead. Before I could think, my hand shot out and struck his cheek.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Melvin lunged, shoving me backward. I stumbled but caught myself, then drove my foot into his gut.

Finn burst into tears, wailing, "I want Ms. Jacobson! You hit me, and now Dad! You're a monster! Just die!"

Melvin clutched his stomach, pointing at me. "Have you lost your mind? Are you trying to destroy our family?"

I scoffed. "Family? A thief who stole my bag, an ungrateful brat, and a damn fool. You three really are perfect for each other."

I grabbed my suitcase and headed for the door. "You have three days to return the bag to my office, or I'll see you in court."

Melvin hadn't returned my bag on time. I was just about to call the police when my best friend suddenly asked me to help out at her luxury consignment shop.

The moment I walked in, I spotted a familiar bag right at the front of the shop. I opened it and, as expected, found my engraved name inside.

Now I understood why Melvin had been dragging his feet. He'd sold it and was unable to return it.

I was fuming when my phone buzzed with a notification from Jenny on social media. "I'm rewarding myself for all the hard work."

The photo flaunted a brand-new Birkin bag. On her measly 3,000 monthly salary, it was obvious where that bag came from.

But that wasn't the end of it. The ring on her finger was my limited-edition Van Cleef & Arpels piece. The dress in the background? A priceless gift from an Irvenian designer.

So, all these years, Melvin had been stealing from me to fund Jenny's lavish lifestyle.

They were childhood sweethearts who'd made it out of their hometown to pursue their studies at Crestford.

Melvin didn't have much money, and Jenny looked down on him for it.

Back in community college, she started dating one of the seniors. But her boyfriend wasn't foolish. He realized she was only after his money and broke things off.

So, she came back to Melvin, crying, and from then on, she became like a little sister to him.

I remembered waddling around at Melvin's company's annual party when I was pregnant. The air conditioner was blasting like a freezer, yet he grabbed my shawl and gave it to Jenny.

"You're strong enough, but Jen might get cold," he said.

I felt self-conscious about my stretch marks, but Melvin studied my belly and said, "Look at Jen. You're both in your 20s, but her skin is still tight."

Right after my C-section, still groggy from the anesthesia, he held Finn and asked, "Jen thinks he looks like she did as a baby. Don't you agree?"

Later, Melvin kept badgering me until I pulled some strings to get Jenny into the top kindergarten in Crestford.

Looking back, it finally hit me. Had Melvin known who I really was all along?

I hastily left my bank card, with access to millions, with my best friend and rushed home, clutching my bag. I combed through the bags and jewelry in my walk-in closet.

My heart dropped.

The Hermès bag I'd won at Pavrielle's auction—one of only five ever made—had been swapped for a fake. The embroidered pearl clutch I'd secured through royal connections in Lendor was just a forgery.

Even the one-of-a-kind archival piece—a personal gift from Chanel's director—had been replaced with a replica. Melvin had replaced more than a hundred million dollars' worth of my treasures with fakes.

A terrible thought struck me, and I bolted to the jewelry cabinet. The ruby necklace had been replaced with one made of glass beads.

The four-leaf clover ring—Dad's gift for my 18th birthday—was now just a cheap knockoff. But the worst part? The thing Grandma left me after she died had disappeared. It was a pair of blue diamond earrings.

She always said a woman should stay single or marry the right man. My hands were shaking. I should've listened.

I spent five years giving everything to this family—bringing Finn into the world, giving up my family's prestige, trying to be the perfect wife and mother. And for what, exactly?

My bags were stolen. My jewelry was swapped out. My own child hated me. And my husband? A liar.

I took a deep breath and called my forensic consultant. "What's the worst prison out there? I want someone to rot in it."

Melvin really thought I couldn't make it without him, didn't he? He'd live to regret ever messing with me.

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