1 Derek and I had been living together for three years when our apartment gained a permanent squatter. My best friend, Giselle. It started with the occasional sleepover. Before long, her slippers sat permanently by the front door, her plush bathrobe hung in our bathroom, and her oat milk took over the entire middle shelf of the fridge. Our couple’s mug set turned into a set of three. The accent pillows on the sofa multiplied. Even our vacation photos started featuring her in the background. I told myself to let it slide. She was going through a rough patch, after all. Then my mother was diagnosed with a tumor. After her surgery, she needed a quiet place to recover, so I planned to set her up in our guest bedroom. Derek blocked me at the hallway, his eyebrows pulled tight. “That’s Giselle’s room,” he said, sounding exasperated. “All her stuff is in there. Where is she supposed to go?” I stood there, stunned. “Derek, that’s my mother. And I’m the owner of this house.” He spoke with complete conviction. “Your mom can stay at a hotel nearby. Why do you have to kick Giselle out?” Standing in the hallway, staring at the guest room door covered in Giselle’s favorite cartoon stickers, a cold realization washed over me. In this home, I was the guest. … “I’ll cover your mom’s hotel bills,” Derek sighed, his tone overly soft, like he was pacifying a throw-a-fit child. He reached out to grab my wrist. I stepped back, dodging his grip. His hand froze in midair, his brow furrowing deeper. “Nora, Giselle is a light sleeper. If she switches beds, she won’t sleep a wink. Your mom needs peace and quiet after her discharge. A hotel has daily maid service and twenty-four-hour room service. Isn’t that better for her?” He looked at me as if his logic were unassailable. The guest room door creaked open. Giselle poked her head out, wearing the pink silk bathrobe that was supposed to be mine. Her eyes were red, her voice trembling. “Nora, please don’t be mad at Derek. It’s all my fault. I’ll pack my things and leave right now. Your mom’s health comes first. I can just rent a basement room somewhere.” Tears streamed down her cheeks right on cue. Derek’s face darkened. He stormed over and stepped right in front of her, shielding her with his body. “What are you talking about? A girl like you, living in a basement?” He turned back to glare at me, his voice sharp with disapproval. “Nora, can you grow up? Giselle just got laid off. She’s under massive pressure. Do you really have to push her into a corner right now?” I watched the two of them. I watched how Derek reflexively put her behind him. A wave of nausea hit me. “I’m pushing her?” My voice was barely a whisper. “I pay half the mortgage on this place every single month. I want my mother, who just had a tumor removed, to rest in my own guest bedroom. And you call that pushing her?” Derek blinked, caught off guard by the mention of the mortgage. He lowered his voice. “We can discuss money later. Right now, we’re figuring out where your mother stays.” “No need to figure it out.” I turned toward the entryway to grab my bag. “I’ll take my mother to a hotel.” Giselle took a quick step forward. “Nora, let me help you take your mom’s luggage downstairs.” “Don’t touch my mother’s things,” I said, eyeing her coldly. She flinched and retreated closer to Derek’s side. A flash of annoyance crossed Derek’s eyes. “Nora, what is wrong with you? She’s just trying to help. What’s with the attitude?” I ignored him, opened the front door, and walked out. 2 The hospital hallway reeked of disinfectant. I finished checking my mother out, picked up her bag, and hailed a cab to the nearby Grand Hyatt. The lobby was gleaming and quiet. The receptionist checked my ID. “Ms. Vance, I have you down for an executive suite at two hundred and fifty dollars a night.” I handed over my credit card. My phone buzzed in my hand. It was a text from Derek. I booked the hotel. It’ll charge directly to our joint household account. Don’t pay out of pocket. I glanced at the screen and didn’t bother replying. I took the key card, went upstairs, and helped my mother get settled in bed. She looked around the spacious room, clearly uncomfortable. “Nora, sweetie, this is way too expensive. I should just go back home to rest.” “Mom, the doctor said you need a follow-up checkup in a week. The clinics back home don’t have the right equipment.” I poured her a glass of warm water. “Just relax and stay here. Don’t worry about the money.” Once she fell asleep, I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked out at the streaming traffic below. My chest felt heavy, like a soaked sponge pressing against my ribs. I suddenly remembered that in my rush this morning, I had left my mother’s health insurance card on the console table in our hallway. I pulled out my phone and launched our smart home management app, intending to check the hallway camera to see if the card was actually there. The screen buffered for two seconds before a pop-up window appeared. Access Denied. Please contact the administrator “CutieGiselle” to request access. I stared at those words for a full minute. My mind went completely blank. I had spent three thousand dollars out of my own pocket to custom-install that smart home system. The primary administrator account had always been mine. I clicked on the device settings. System records showed that just an hour ago, the master admin rights had been transferred to “CutieGiselle.” My account had been demoted to “Temporary Guest.” I didn’t even have permission to view the security feed. I dialed Derek’s number immediately. It rang five times before he picked up. The background noise was filled with video game sound effects and Giselle’s light giggles. “What’s up?” Derek sounded completely relaxed. “Why were the admin permissions changed on our smart home app?” My voice was devoid of emotion. The line went quiet for a second. The game sound was muted. Derek spoke nonchalantly. “Oh, that. After you left this morning, Giselle wanted to set a smart alarm, but she didn’t have access. I just handed the admin rights over to her. It doesn’t matter who holds the account as long as you can still unlock the door.” Handed it over. Doesn’t matter. A cold smile tugged at the corner of my lips. “Derek, I paid for that system.” “Yeah, I know you paid for it,” he said, his tone turning irritable. “Nora, it’s just an app account. Do you really have to be so petty? Giselle is at home all day looking for a job. She uses the system way more than you do. What’s the harm in letting her manage it?” Giselle’s soft, sweet voice drifted over from his end. “Derek, is Nora upset? You should give the permissions back to her. I don’t need a smart alarm anyway, I can just use my phone.” Derek let out a heavy sigh. “Listen to how understanding Giselle is. Why do you always have to assume the worst of people? Fine, I’ll add you back later tonight.” “Don’t bother.” I hung up the phone. I stared at the grey “Temporary Guest” badge in the app. Then I tapped the top right corner and unlinked my account entirely. Since I was just a guest, there was no reason to stay in the system. 3 The next morning, my mother mentioned she craved soup from a famous diner down the street. I went downstairs to pick it up. While I was waiting in line, my phone rang. It was Derek. “How’s your mom feeling today?” He sounded warm and familiar, as if nothing unpleasant had happened yesterday. “She’s fine,” I replied coolly. “I have a meeting at noon, but I’ll pick you two up at the hotel tonight for dinner. A new place opened nearby with light, healthy dishes. Perfect for her.” I looked at the long line in front of me and thought it over. “Sure. What time?” “Let’s say six-thirty. I’ll drive straight over after work.” After hanging up, I brought the soup back to the hotel. At five in the afternoon, I helped my mother change her clothes. She looked in the mirror, smoothing down her hair nervously. “Nora, Derek is so busy with work. It feels wrong to make him drive all the way here.” “It’s fine. He offered.” I sat on the sofa, watching the clock on the wall. Six o’clock. Six-thirty. Seven o’clock. Derek didn’t show up. He didn’t call, either. My mother sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her hands together anxiously. “Maybe he’s stuck in traffic? Why don’t you call him?” I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. No answer. I tried three times in a row. Every call went straight to voicemail. My mother’s face paled slightly. “Nora, let’s forget about going out. I’m not really hungry anyway. We can just order room service.” Seeing the cautious, timid look in her eyes made my heart ache. “Wait for me a moment.” I walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Opening Instagram, I tapped on Giselle’s profile. She had posted an update just one minute ago. The photo showed a ginger cat hiding under a bed, and a man’s long-fingered hand holding a toy wand to lure it out. On his wrist was the Cartier watch I had bought him for his birthday. The caption read: The little rascal ran under the bed and refused to come out. Thank goodness my superhero came to save the day! [Heart] I stared at the picture. The background was the master bedroom of our apartment. The twenty-five-hundred-dollar silk sheets were crumpled into a mess, marked by several obvious claw snags. Those were the sheets Derek had promised we would save for our wedding night. I shoved the bathroom door open. “Mom, put your coat on. We’re going to that restaurant.” “Is Derek here?” “He’s not coming. Something came up at work,” I lied without batting an eye. After dinner, I brought my mother back to the hotel. It was already nine in the evening. Standing in the hotel lobby, I dialed Derek’s phone again. This time, he picked up almost instantly. “Hey, Nora.” He was breathing somewhat heavily. “Where are you?” “Still working overtime at the office. I was in a back-to-back meeting and couldn’t check my phone. I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to your mom another day.” His tone was seamless, devoid of any flaw. I took a deep breath. “Derek, how do you plan on getting the cat claw marks out of our master bed?” The line went dead quiet. Several seconds passed before he finally spoke, his voice laced with the irritation of being caught. “You’re stalking Giselle’s posts?” I let out a bitter laugh. “She posted it for the whole world to see. You call that stalking? So, this was your ‘meeting’?” He let out an annoyed noise. “Nora, can you be reasonable for once?” “I was literally on my way to pick you up when Giselle called. The neighbor’s cat climbed through her balcony window. She’s deathly afraid of cats. She was crying hysterically on the phone. Was I supposed to just leave her like that?” I gripped my phone tightly, my fingernails digging into my palm. “She’s afraid of a cat, so you went into our master bedroom to play with it on our bed? Derek, I bought those sheets! We agreed to use them when we got married!” “It’s just a set of sheets!” His voice spiked. “The cat was stuck under the bed, so I had to lure it out! It got a little messy, we can just wash it! Do you really have to make a huge scene over a pair of bedsheets?” I stood by the revolving doors, watching the endless stream of headlights outside. Suddenly, all the energy drained out of me. “Derek.” My voice was so steady it surprised even me. “Do you remember my mom’s follow-up checkup today? The doctor said her blood markers looked abnormal.” He paused on the other end. “You… you didn’t tell me that…” “Right. I didn’t.” “Because when I called you, you didn’t answer.” I paused for a beat. “You were busy saving Giselle.” “All because she was scared of a cat.” Derek’s breathing hitched. “Nora, I didn’t know… Is your mom okay?” “She’s not dead yet.” I didn’t want to hear another word. “I’m stopping by the apartment tomorrow at noon to pick up some things. And I’m throwing those sheets in the trash.” “Don’t you dare!” His tone turned cold. “Nora, don’t push it. I told you I’d wash them.” “They’re filthy.” I dropped those two words and hung up immediately. Back in the room, my mother was already asleep. I sat by her bed, watching her pale face. Three years ago, when Derek bought that apartment, he could only afford a partial down payment. Forty thousand dollars of that money came from my mother selling her old home back in her hometown. Back then, Derek held my mother’s hand and swore up and down. Auntie, the guest bedroom has the best sunlight. I’m keeping it for you. You can move in with us later, and I’ll take care of you forever. Now, that sunny bedroom door was covered in Giselle’s cartoon stickers. 4 At noon the next day, I took a break during lunch to head back to the apartment. The moment I pushed the door open, I thought I had walked into the wrong place. Seven or eight pairs of shoes were piled chaotically in the entryway, both men’s and women’s. The coffee table in the living room was littered with empty takeout cups and half-eaten pizza boxes. On the couch, Giselle and two girls I didn’t recognize were lounging in face masks, laughing out loud at a reality show on TV. At the sound of the door, they all turned around. The room fell silent for a moment. Giselle reacted first. She peeled off her face mask, offering a sweet smile. “Nora, you’re back!” She pointed to the girls on the sofa. “These are my former coworkers. They had the day off today, so I invited them over to hang out.” I looked at the two girls. One of them was holding my newly opened jar of La Mer cream. She was scooping out a generous blob and smearing it onto her neck. Seeing me stare, she didn’t look embarrassed at all. Instead, she giggled. “Giselle, your roommate’s moisturizer is amazing. Mind if I borrow a bit?” Roommate. In my own home, I had been demoted to Giselle’s roommate. I walked straight over and snatched the cream out of her hand. “Yes, I do mind.” The girl froze, her face flushing bright red. “What’s your problem? It’s just a little lotion, don’t be so stingy.” Giselle quickly stood up, grabbing my arm. “Nora, don’t be mad. She didn’t know it was yours. I thought anything on the counter was open for everyone to use…” I shoved her hand off me. “My electric toothbrush is on the counter too. Do you want to share that as well?” “Nora!” The master bedroom door swung open. Derek walked out in loungewear, his face twisted into a deep frown. “What kind of crazy fit are you throwing the second you walk through the door?” I looked at him, surprised to see him home on a weekday. “I’m crazy?” I gestured to the messy floor and pointed at the girl holding my cream. “Derek, this is my home. It’s not Giselle’s homeless shelter, and it’s certainly not her lounge for playing hostess.” Derek strode over, pulling Giselle behind him. “It’s just a bit of face cream! I’ll buy you ten jars, alright?” He glared at me with pure disgust. “Giselle finally had a good day and invited friends over. Who are you trying to intimidate with this ‘lady of the house’ routine?” Lady of the house. Coming from his mouth, those words felt like a slap in the face. Looking at Derek’s familiar features, he suddenly felt like a complete stranger. Seeing Derek back her up, the guest chimed in with a sarcastic sneer. “Seriously. Giselle always says her bro is the sweetest guy, turns out he’s henpecked by a girl who throws a fit over a jar of lotion. I don’t know how Derek puts up with you.” Derek didn’t dispute it. He accepted her framing as a badge of honor. He pulled a credit card out of his wallet and tossed it onto the coffee table. “Take it. Go to the mall and buy a new one yourself. Stop embarrassing me.” That card was the one I used to pay the household utilities and condo fees. Every single dollar in that account came from my monthly transfers. I stared at the card and let out a dry laugh. “Derek, you’re using my money to play the big man?” Derek blinked, realizing which card he had thrown down. A flicker of embarrassment crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by defensive anger. “We share everything anyway, why are you splitting hairs? Have I ever kept money from you?” I didn’t answer. I turned and walked into the guest room. The room that should have been kept empty for my mother was now cluttered with Giselle’s clothes and handbags. Unopened delivery boxes were stacked right on the bed. I walked over to the desk, intending to retrieve a few important documents I kept there. I pulled open the drawer. It was completely empty. Frowning, my eyes scanned the desk. I noticed a thick stack of papers jammed under one of the desk legs to level it. Those were my personal health reports, along with copies of my mother’s medical charts from her initial diagnosis. They were crumpled, creased, and stained with dried coffee, serving as a makeshift shim for a wobbly desk. My heart plunged straight into ice water. I yanked the papers out from under the leg and marched back into the living room. Slap. I slammed the stained documents onto the coffee table. “Who did this?” Giselle jumped. When she saw what the papers were, her face drained of color. “Nora, I’m so sorry… I spilled coffee the other day and just grabbed some scrap paper to level the desk. I didn’t know those were your mom’s medical records…” “Scrap paper?” I stared at her coldly. “My name and my mother’s name are printed right on top. Are you blind?” “Nora!” Derek snapped, completely losing his temper. He shoved me back hard. “Have you had enough?! She already apologized! It’s just a copy, you can print another one!” The force of his shove made me stumble back. My lower back slammed hard against the sharp corner of the dining table. A sharp, agonizing pain shot through me. I held my waist, refusing to make a sound. I just looked at Derek with dead eyes. “Derek.” “Do you even know that my mother has a biopsy scheduled for tomorrow?” Derek’s aggressive expression froze. “A biopsy? You didn’t tell me…” “I tried,” I interrupted. “Last night, I called to tell you. But you were busy catching a cat for Giselle, and you complained that I was bothering you.” Silence swallowed the entire living room. The two visiting girls realized things were spiraling out of control. They grabbed their purses and slipped out the door like mice. Giselle, eyes brimming with tears, tugged at Derek’s sleeve. “Derek… it’s my fault… You should go check on Auntie…” Derek looked at me in a panic. “Nora, I’m sorry, I really didn’t know. Tomorrow I’ll go to the hospital with you. I’ll take the day off.” I stared at him for a long, quiet moment. Then I packed the dirty documents into my bag. “No need.” “Tomorrow at two in the afternoon. If you still consider yourself a human being, show up.” Without another word, I turned and left the apartment. 5 The next afternoon at one-thirty. I sat on a plastic chair outside the hospital operating room, staring at the digital clock on the wall. One-forty. Derek hadn’t shown up. My mother, dressed in a thin hospital gown, sat beside me, clutching my hand tightly. “Nora, is Derek too busy with work?” Her voice carried a heartbreaking disappointment. “It’s fine, sweetie. I’m not scared to go in alone. You just wait for me out here.” I squeezed her rough hand, offering her a reassuring smile. “Even if he doesn’t come, I’m here. Don’t worry.” A nurse walked over holding a clipboard. “Family member, sign the consent form.” Just as I reached for the pen, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Derek. I picked up. “Where are you?” “Nora, I’m so sorry.” Derek’s voice was drowned out by the roar of highway wind and frantic car horns. “Something came up on my end. I can’t make it right now.” I watched the nurse’s pen hovering in the air. “What came up?” “Giselle went out to the suburbs for a job interview, and her car broke down on the interstate. She’s stranded on the shoulder, crying and terrified. I have to go pick her up. Your mom’s procedure is just a minor thing, right? You can just sign the form yourself. I’ll drop by her room later tonight.” Over the line, I could hear Giselle’s tearful voice in the background. “Derek, am I ruining your important plans? I’m so scared, big trucks keep driving past…” Derek’s voice softened instantly to comfort her. “Don’t be scared, I’m almost there.” A wave of ridiculous irony washed over me. My mother was going in for a tumor biopsy, with life-or-death stakes. To him, it was a “minor thing.” Giselle’s car was safely parked on the shoulder of a highway, and to him, it was a life-threatening crisis. “Derek.” I spoke his name softly, my voice as flat as a stagnant pond. “Do you have any idea that a tumor biopsy comes with a severe risk of internal hemorrhaging?” The line went silent for a beat. Then Derek’s voice returned, laced with irritation. “Nora, stop catastrophizing everything!” “We live in a modern world, people don’t just bleed to death from a quick needle test! You’re doing this on purpose to guilt-trip me. I’m taking the highway exit now, I have to go.” Click. The call disconnected. I stared at the home screen of my phone, slowly closed my eyes, and opened them again. “Nurse, I’ll sign.” I took the pen and steadily wrote my name on the family signature line. In that exact moment, a string that had been pulled taut inside my heart for three years snapped without a sound. There was no screaming. No heartbreak. Only absolute, overwhelming relief. The procedure took an hour and a half. Fortunately, everything went smoothly. My mother was wheeled back to the recovery room and fell fast asleep. I hired a private duty nurse to watch her, then took a cab straight back to the apartment. At four in the afternoon, the place was empty. Sunbeams streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the trash left on the coffee table. I walked into the master bedroom and pulled my suitcase from under the bed. I didn’t take much. A few outfits, my vital documents, and the bank card linked to our joint household account. I swept my personal skincare products off the vanity into my tote bag. Opening the drawer, I saw the pair of matching Bvlgari rings. Derek had bought them for our anniversary last year. Back then, he had hugged me from behind and promised, Nora, give me two more years. Once the mortgage is cleared, we’ll get married. I picked up his ring, stared at it for a second, and tossed it into the trash can. I slipped my own ring into my pocket. I had paid for half of it anyway; I could always pawn it later. At the front door, I put on my shoes. My gaze landed on the pink slippers Giselle always wore. I walked over and kicked them straight into the garbage bin. At six-thirty, Derek sent a text message with a photo of a strawberry shortcake. Passed by your favorite bakery and waited thirty minutes in line for this. I’ll bring it to the hospital later to apologize to your mom. Giselle’s car got towed, and she says she’s really sorry too. Staring at the notification, I could practically picture the condescending grace on his face. A slap on the cheek, followed by a piece of candy. He honestly thought I would cave like I always did over the past three years, sacrificing my dignity for his crumbs of affection. My fingers tapped against the screen. Eat the cake yourself. Derek, we’re done. You’re free now. Go save your precious Giselle. Send. Then: Block. Delete. Done in one smooth motion. I pushed the door open and took one last look at the place I had poured my heart into for three years. No lingering regret. Only pure disgust. Click. The door locked behind me as I rolled my suitcase toward the elevator.
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