Chapter 4 · No Free Lunch In My House

I turned off the projector, and the living room went dark again, just like before.

I walked up to Danny, staring into his eyes. My voice was quiet, but firm. "Danny, we have to make the rules clear.

"First, any expenses for Claire's family every week are on you. Use your money. Not a single penny of mine will be spent on them again.

"Second, whenever they come over and leave the place a mess, you handle it. Clean it yourself or hire someone, but it's on you, not me.

"Third, and most importantly."

I shot a look at Claire, who was pale as a ghost, and Whitley, who was glaring daggers at me, then fixed my gaze back on Danny.

I said, "Tell them this is my house. It's not their free buffet, and it's definitely not their weekend playground."

As soon as I finished, Claire went ballistic, flying at me like she'd lost her mind. "Harper, you can't do this. This is Danny's house. Are you seriously kicking me out?"

Whitley clutched her chest and pounded her fists, pointing at my nose with a shriek. "This is insane. I knew it. The Simmons family shouldn't have let you in. Danny, if you actually listen to her, I swear I'll make you regret it."

Cries, curses, and accusations surged toward me like a rising tide.

I didn't back down at all.

I stood tall and firm, meeting their rage with icy calm. I said, voice cold and steady, "I just know that whoever gives is the one who deserves respect.

"If being family just means one person keeps giving while everyone else just takes without limits, then I'm done. I refuse to play that role anymore."

Danny was caught in the middle, looking pale and defeated.

Whitley and Claire were screaming, lashing out, while I stood unshakable, a wall of steel against them.

He shut his eyes, clearly in pain.

After what felt like an eternity, with Whitley and Claire's cries growing more piercing by the second, he finally gave a barely noticeable nod.

I knew I'd won the first round, but this was far from over.

Danny's compromise was more an act of helplessness, cornered by me, than a heartfelt awakening.

Whether out of pride or scared by how firm I was, he grudgingly accepted my conditions.

Life carried on, deceptively calm, as if nothing had changed.

The next Saturday, Claire and her family showed up right on time, ringing the doorbell again.

I was in my study, buried in work emails, and didn't even bother to look up when the doorbell rang.

Danny jumped up from the couch and hurried to open the door.

I heard Claire's deliberately raised voice from the hallway. "Danny, are you home alone? Where is Harper?"

Danny mumbled, "Harper is busy with work."

That day, I holed up in my study and didn't step out once.

I had no idea what they were saying or doing in the living room, and honestly, I didn't care.

All I knew was that around lunchtime, the scent of seafood stew delivery wafted to me.

Later in the afternoon, I heard Danny hurry downstairs, and when he came back, the rustling of plastic bags mixed with the excited screams of my nephews.

The kids said, "Hooray, we have chips and cookies."

By evening, they finally left.

I stepped out of the study; as expected, the living room was a mess again, though slightly less severe than last time.

Danny was scrubbing grease off the coffee table with a rag, looking dead on his feet. When he saw me, he managed a smile that was closer to a wince. "Harper, are you done with work?"

I didn't say a word. I just stared at him.

He fidgeted under my stare, eyes darting away as he mumbled, "I'll get it cleaned up right now."

I just stood there, saying nothing.

I knew he was secretly using his own savings behind my back to maintain that absurd "family peace".

He was buying groceries for Claire, grabbing snacks for the kids, and probably even slipping her cash.

To Claire and Whitley, my previous outburst was merely a storm in a teacup.

In their minds, I was just throwing a tantrum, and once it was over, life went on as before. They merely shifted from taking from me to taking from Danny.

They still showed up every week, completely unbothered.

I didn't call Danny out; I just started keeping my distance in our everyday life.

Chapter 4

I turned off the projector, and the living room went dark again, just like before.

I walked up to Danny, staring into his eyes. My voice was quiet, but firm. "Danny, we have to make the rules clear.

"First, any expenses for Claire's family every week are on you. Use your money. Not a single penny of mine will be spent on them again.

"Second, whenever they come over and leave the place a mess, you handle it. Clean it yourself or hire someone, but it's on you, not me.

"Third, and most importantly."

I shot a look at Claire, who was pale as a ghost, and Whitley, who was glaring daggers at me, then fixed my gaze back on Danny.

I said, "Tell them this is my house. It's not their free buffet, and it's definitely not their weekend playground."

As soon as I finished, Claire went ballistic, flying at me like she'd lost her mind. "Harper, you can't do this. This is Danny's house. Are you seriously kicking me out?"

Cries, curses, and accusations surged toward me like a rising tide.

I didn't back down at all.

I stood tall and firm, meeting their rage with icy calm. I said, voice cold and steady, "I just know that whoever gives is the one who deserves respect.

"If being family just means one person keeps giving while everyone else just takes without limits, then I'm done. I refuse to play that role anymore."

Danny was caught in the middle, looking pale and defeated.

Whitley and Claire were screaming, lashing out, while I stood unshakable, a wall of steel against them.

He shut his eyes, clearly in pain.

After what felt like an eternity, with Whitley and Claire's cries growing more piercing by the second, he finally gave a barely noticeable nod.

I knew I'd won the first round, but this was far from over.

Danny's compromise was more an act of helplessness, cornered by me, than a heartfelt awakening.

Whether out of pride or scared by how firm I was, he grudgingly accepted my conditions.

Life carried on, deceptively calm, as if nothing had changed.

The next Saturday, Claire and her family showed up right on time, ringing the doorbell again.

I was in my study, buried in work emails, and didn't even bother to look up when the doorbell rang.

Danny jumped up from the couch and hurried to open the door.

I heard Claire's deliberately raised voice from the hallway. "Danny, are you home alone? Where is Harper?"

Danny mumbled, "Harper is busy with work."

That day, I holed up in my study and didn't step out once.

I had no idea what they were saying or doing in the living room, and honestly, I didn't care.

All I knew was that around lunchtime, the scent of seafood stew delivery wafted to me.

Later in the afternoon, I heard Danny hurry downstairs, and when he came back, the rustling of plastic bags mixed with the excited screams of my nephews.

The kids said, "Hooray, we have chips and cookies."

By evening, they finally left.

I stepped out of the study; as expected, the living room was a mess again, though slightly less severe than last time.

Danny was scrubbing grease off the coffee table with a rag, looking dead on his feet. When he saw me, he managed a smile that was closer to a wince. "Harper, are you done with work?"

I didn't say a word. I just stared at him.

He fidgeted under my stare, eyes darting away as he mumbled, "I'll get it cleaned up right now."

I just stood there, saying nothing.

I knew he was secretly using his own savings behind my back to maintain that absurd "family peace".

He was buying groceries for Claire, grabbing snacks for the kids, and probably even slipping her cash.

To Claire and Whitley, my previous outburst was merely a storm in a teacup.

In their minds, I was just throwing a tantrum, and once it was over, life went on as before. They merely shifted from taking from me to taking from Danny.

They still showed up every week, completely unbothered.

I didn't call Danny out; I just started keeping my distance in our everyday life.