That evening, after Monica and Frank had retreated early to the guest room, Jake finally cornered me in the kitchen.

“Okay, what exactly did you do?” he whispered, equal parts horrified and impressed.

I grinned. “Remember that shopping trip I took to that specialty store downtown?”

His eyes widened. “You didn’t.”

“I did.

Plus a few things from a website with overnight delivery.” I beckoned to Jake with my finger. “I’ll show you.”

I barely held back my giggles as I showed Jake the lacy, barely-there lingerie I’d tucked beneath the pillows and the adult toys I’d “accidentally” left in the en-suite bathroom.

“Oh my God,” he breathed, the blood draining from his face.

“There’s more,” I whispered.

While our bedroom might have looked normal at first glance, I’d secretly placed massage oils, some interesting leather accessories, and items that required batteries throughout the room and bathroom.

I’d even filled our TV queue with titles that would make a sailor blush.

Jake’s mouth opened and closed several times before he managed to speak. “My mother saw all this?”

“Every.

Single. Piece.” I couldn’t help the satisfaction in my voice. “I figured if she wanted our most private space, she should understand exactly how private it is.”

He was quiet for a moment, then burst into laughter so loud I had to shush him.

“You’re evil,” he gasped between breaths.

“Absolutely evil. And brilliant.”

The rest of their visit passed in blessed peace.

Monica and Frank stayed firmly within the boundaries of the guest room. When they left three days later, Monica hugged me stiffly at the door.

“The guest room was quite comfortable after all,” she said tightly.

“I’m so glad,” I replied as I stepped back.

“It’s yours whenever you visit.”

As their car pulled away, Jake wrapped his arm around my waist. “You know she’s probably traumatized for life.”

“Good,” I said, leaning into him. “So was I, every time she invaded our space.”

That night, I slipped into bed with the satisfaction of a battle well won.

Some might call it petty revenge, but I called it a necessary education in boundaries.

And judging by the text Jake received the next day saying they booked a hotel for Christmas, the lesson had stuck.

Permanently.