Chapter 2

Danny stammered on the other end of the line. He always did. Whenever things turned real, he avoided them.

He said, "I just thought you were tired from work and wanted you to rest on weekends."

"Rest?" I cut him off, my voice trembling with anger.

I said, "Is this what you call rest? Claire drags her whole family over, clears out my fridge, steals the snacks I saved, destroys the house, and you just pat me on the back and say, 'Thanks, babe. We're family.'

"Danny, ask yourself honestly. Does that sound like rest to you? That's torture."

Danny went completely silent.

He had no rebuttal because every word I said was painfully true.

Naomi quietly slipped into the seat next to me. She didn't say anything. She just reached out and gave me a comforting pat on the back.

The warmth of her hand was steady and firm, offering silent support.

I ended the call and buried my face in my hands, tears finally spilling free.

However, this time, there was no softness left in me.

I knew the war had only just begun.

When I walked in Sunday evening, I almost thought I had the wrong house.

The calm and ease from the spa vanished the instant I opened the door.

The smell hit me immediately. Old food, plastic takeout boxes, and that sour sweat made my stomach churn.

The living room looked like a storm had torn through it. Couch cushions were scattered everywhere, stained with sauce marks.

My new wool rug was covered in chip crumbs, candy wrappers, and smashed cookies.

The coffee table was even worse. Greasy takeout boxes piled up, half-empty drink bottles lay tipped over, sticky liquid smeared across the glass surface.

The kitchen was the worst-hit area. The sink was piled high with unwashed dishes, still clinging to leftover food.

Grease splatters covered the stove, dried into yellowish stains.

The refrigerator door was half open. I walked over and pulled it wider, cold air rushing out with a sour smell. There was nothing inside.

The freezer, which I'd just packed full of steaks, tuna, and chicken nuggets last week, was wiped out.

The fridge was no better. All the imported milk, yogurt, and cherries vanished without a trace.

Only a few limp stalks of celery and half an onion lay there, lonely, as if mocking my stupidity.

And the people responsible for all of it, Claire and her family, were sprawled across my couch as if they owned the place.

Claire and her husband were each glued to their phones, totally absorbed in whatever they were watching.

Her two spoiled children were jumping on my fabric couch with their shoes on, shrieking at the top of their lungs.

When they heard the door open, they didn't even bother to look up.

Claire said, not even lifting her eyes. "Harper, you're finally home. We thought you forgot you even had a home.

"There wasn't much food in the fridge. The kids nearly went hungry last night."

Claire's words hit me like daggers, every syllable sinking deep and twisting in my chest.

I didn't respond. I looked past the mess and straight at the man getting up from the couch.

Danny forced a nervous smile, trying to explain.

He said, "Harper, sorry. Uh, they came over yesterday, and there really wasn't anything left in the fridge, so we had to order takeout."

I scanned the apartment without expression. Every filthy corner, every ruined detail, cut into me like a blade.

Finally, I looked back at him, my voice unnervingly calm. "Is this what you meant by 'no big deal'? Is this how you treat a guest?"

My composure unsettled him more than any breakdown.

Danny's face went pale, his lips twitching uselessly, completely speechless.

"What is that supposed to mean?" a sharp voice came from the doorway.

Whitley showed up out of nowhere, carrying a bag of fruit.

The moment she saw me standing there and ready to grill everyone, she went ballistic, rushing over and pulling Claire behind her, as if I were some kind of monster.

"Why are you giving your husband that face? Claire is your family. What's your problem?" Whitley snapped. "I know you haven't eaten anything. Is it really worth making such a big scene?

"Look at you. You're totally crazy. Just shut up and calm down."

I watched them back each other up, flipping the truth around, and felt whatever warmth I had left disappear completely.