I used to believe family was the one line no one would ever cross. That belief shattered the day I caught my boyfriend cheating and had nowhere else to go, so I moved into my younger brother’s place. Instead of support, his girlfriend slapped me across the face and threw me out of the house. She called me “pathetic,” said I deserved to be dumped, and claimed she was the real woman of the house. And my own brother stood beside her—silent, choosing her over me. That was the moment I simply made one decision—— kicked them both out of my house. My brother Dylan Stone is seven years younger than me and currently in college. Six months ago, he asked if he could borrow my two-bedroom apartment in Chapel Hill because his roommate snores and keeps him up at night. Since the place was sitting empty, I gave him two spare keys and told him to stay in the guest room and not to enter my room. He eagerly agreed. A couple of days ago, I discovered that my ex-boyfriend cheated on me. After the breakup, he kept showing up outside my office building and my apartment complex every day. To get some peace, I handed over my work to my assistant and decided to stay at my brother’s place for a while. On Thursday afternoon at 4 PM, Dylan should still be in class, so I didn’t tell him and just dragged my suitcase over. But to my surprise, I found that no matter how hard I tried, my key wouldn’t unlock the door. Could Dylan have changed the locks without telling me? Just as I was about to pull out my phone to ask Dylan what was going on, the door suddenly clicked open. Standing there was a girl with perfect makeup, wearing a cute, fuzzy pink bunny onesie. That onesie looked familiar; it seemed like something I had bought as a spare. But right now, I didn’t have time to figure out why this girl was wearing what looked like my pajamas. What I really needed to know was why she was in my home! As I frowned at her, she looked me up and down with an expression that was anything but friendly. “Hi…” I tried to ask what was going on, but she interrupted me. “Are you serious?! You’re here trying to break into my house? Do you think I won’t call the cops and have you arrested?” ??? I stood there, confused and taken aback. Just as I pulled off my scarf to show my face and understand what was happening, I felt a sharp sting on my left cheek. At the same moment, the door slammed shut, sending a breeze across my burning face. I was seething with anger as I took out my phone. My gut told me this was all Dylan’s doing. [Me: Dylan, what did you do with my house?!] [Dylan: Sis? What’s wrong?] [Me: I just got slapped by a woman in my pajamas who’s in my house.] [Dylan: Why did you show up so suddenly?] [Me: You better explain this to me quickly.] Dylan seemed surprised and panicked, taking a few minutes to respond. [Dylan: Sis, there’s probably a misunderstanding. I had my girlfriend open the door for you. I’ll explain when I get back from class; don’t be mad.] Don’t be mad? How am I supposed to not be mad after being slapped and locked out of my own house? Wait… girlfriend? Dylan is dating someone? And they’re living together? In my house?!
I waited outside for another ten minutes, but Dylan’s girlfriend still didn’t come to let me in. As a graduate from a prestigious university who started a successful business with my best friend, I was now a bona fide female CEO. With my impressive grades and affluent background, I had always been pampered growing up. It was the first time someone had disrespected me like this, and I couldn’t just let it go. Unfortunately, I really couldn’t get into the house, so I dragged my suitcase to a coffee shop downstairs to wait for Dylan. During this time, Dylan kept sending me apology messages. [Dylan: Sis, she definitely didn’t mean it; don’t be mad.] [Dylan: There must be some misunderstanding; just calm down.] I ignored him. An hour later, a disheveled Dylan rushed into the coffee shop, scanning the room until he quickly spotted me in the corner. He approached me with a smile plastered on his face. “My lovely, charming sister, I knew you wouldn’t be upstairs, so I figured you’d be here!” Dylan grabbed my suitcase, saying, “Let’s go, Sis.” I shot him a glare, my anger bubbling under the surface, and followed him upstairs. In the elevator, Dylan kept trying to charm me. “Sis, I just got back and had a talk with Skylar. Don’t be mad; don’t let her drag you into the mud.” Seeing him like this, I could understand; after all, they were supposed to be enjoying their time together as a couple, and me showing up probably made things awkward for them. But this girl was taking it a bit too far. I decided that if she apologized sincerely, I could overlook this whole incident. Dylan quickly agreed. Once we entered the apartment, I found Skylar lounging on the sofa, her bare feet propped up on the coffee table I had meticulously chosen during renovations. She was munching on sunflower seeds and watching some reality show, laughing out loud from time to time. Sunflower seed shells were scattered everywhere, and there were piles of orange peels and several empty soda cans on the table. The elegant artwork that once hung in the living room had been replaced with posters of boy bands I didn’t even recognize. I couldn’t believe this was the apartment I had handed over to Dylan. “Skylar, this is my sister, Avery,” Dylan said, giving her a knowing glance before turning to me with a nervous smile. “Avery, this is my girlfriend, Skylar Hayes.” I regarded the girl before me, who was practically the definition of rude. “Hi, sister,” Skylar said, barely looking at me. “I asked you to let my sister in; why didn’t you?” Dylan asked her, glancing nervously at my expression. “And about that misunderstanding, hurry up and apologize to my sister!” Only then did Skylar glance my way. After scanning between me and Dylan, she smirked, “I didn’t realize your sister liked to wear matching scarves with you!” That’s when I noticed Dylan was wearing the scarf I had given him. I hadn’t purposely given him that scarf; it was a mix-up when I ordered a couple online. The seller mistakenly sent me two, and since I didn’t want to deal with returning it, I just kept both. I had planned to give the extra one to my best friend, but Dylan had seen it and said he needed one, so I just handed it over. Siblings wearing matching scarves isn’t that strange, right? And because of this, I was slapped and locked out of my own home? Unbelievable…
After hearing that explanation, I could somewhat understand Skylar’s actions; she probably thought I was a homewrecker. She was just a bit petty, being in the honeymoon phase of her relationship, so I forced myself to be understanding. I turned to Dylan and asked why he had changed the locks. If my key had worked, none of this would have happened, and I wouldn’t have gotten slapped for no reason. Dylan hesitated before explaining, “Well… I forgot my keys at school the other day and had to call a locksmith. For safety’s sake, I had the locks changed.” Skylar chimed in sarcastically, “Who would feel safe knowing someone else has a key to our place?” The only keys to this apartment, besides Dylan’s, are mine. Not even our parents have a key. This is my house; am I an outsider? She really doesn’t see herself as an outsider? Seeing I was about to explode, Dylan quickly jumped in to defend Skylar. “Hey, sis, don’t think too much about it. Skylar just meant the locksmith.” Looking at Dylan’s panicked defense of Skylar, it was clear he really liked her. Dylan was twenty years old, and this was the first time I realized he was dating someone. Oh well, as long as he likes her. Skylar probably just had low emotional intelligence and a lack of manners. Besides, it’s not like I’d be living with her; if Dylan can handle it, that’s all that matters. I didn’t say anything and pulled my suitcase toward the master bedroom. The door was open, revealing a messy space filled with signs of life. Before I moved out, I had left an entire set of unopened La Mer skincare products on my vanity, but now it was all used up. The clothes, shoes, bags, and jewelry I had prepared in the closet had all been used, and given that Skylar was wearing my pajamas, it was clear that Dylan and Skylar had moved into my room. “Skylar, since Dylan calls you that, I’ll call you that too,” I said, peeking into the master bedroom with a polite smile. “If you need skincare products, clothes, shoes, bags, or jewelry, just let me know. I can give you some that suit you, but using my things without permission—how am I supposed to use them when I arrive?” Surprisingly, Skylar didn’t show any sign of remorse or intent to apologize. Instead, she looked at me and said, “You’re keeping a tally? How pathetic.” “Well, you’re not married yet. No matter how much you earn, it’s all for Dylan’s wedding. I’m his girlfriend, so everything here technically belongs to me, right?” I swear I’ve never met someone as shameless as Skylar. Not a person, but a whole different species! Dylan rushed over to pull me into the master bedroom, whispering, “Sis, Skylar didn’t have an easy life at home. Her family… let’s just say they don’t value daughters much, so she craves affection. Don’t take it too personally!” I held back my frustration and ordered Dylan, “Quick, gather your things and move them to the guest room!” Dylan nodded eagerly, “Okay, okay!” As Dylan moved their things from the master bedroom to the guest room, Skylar repeatedly tried to say something but was stopped by Dylan’s glare. She then plopped down on the sofa and started rolling her eyes dramatically. I was worried she might actually flip herself over.
I thought Skylar would finally calm down. After all, I was only planning to stay a few days. If I weren’t allergic to pet hair, I would’ve gone to my best friend’s place directly, but her boyfriend’s dog was temporarily staying there, so I had to come here. I didn’t mind Dylan dating; I was too busy to keep tabs on them. With my relentless encouragement, Dylan had developed impressive cooking skills, so naturally, he prepared dinner. The table was filled with all my favorite dishes: Southern-style pork, sweet and sour ribs, roasted chicken, stir-fried chives and eggs, cauliflower with ham, braised lamb, and my favorite spicy shrimp! “Eating so heavy at night? No wonder you got dumped!” “Ugh, chives? They’re so annoying to get out of your teeth!” “Dylan! Why did you make lamb? The smell is unbearable!” As soon as the dishes were served, Dylan hadn’t even had a chance to take off his apron when Skylar started picking food off the plate and shoving it into her mouth. While we weren’t a rich family, we still had decent manners. I frowned slightly at Skylar’s behavior but said nothing. Everyone comes from different backgrounds, and lifestyle habits vary; those can change over time. Hearing Skylar complain, I thought maybe Dylan overlooked her tastes since he wanted to impress me and had ignored what she liked. Just as I was about to reprimand Dylan for his lack of etiquette, he spoke up. “Didn’t you ask for at least two meat and two vegetable dishes for dinner? It’s been a while since my sister ate my cooking, so I made a few extra dishes.” “Didn’t you say eating chives is good for your health and you should have them every day?” “Didn’t you say yesterday you wanted to eat braised lamb?” Oh, great! So this whole dinner was a subtle attack aimed at me! Under Dylan’s silent pleading, I decided to ignore her and put on some disposable gloves to start peeling shrimp. Maybe I hadn’t given Skylar the reaction she was hoping for because, after just a few bites, she started acting up again. “Dylan, I want shrimp!” Dylan patiently peeled a few shrimp and placed them on her plate. “Some people have to peel their own shrimp. How… common.” Was that a direct jab at me? Sure, and next I should just give her my bank account too! But before I could swallow my shrimp and say anything, I witnessed something that shocked me to my core. “Dylan, feed me!” Skylar cooed in a high-pitched voice, closing her eyes and opening her mouth, waiting for him to spoon-feed her. Dylan looked troubled as he glanced at me, then turned to Skylar, who was looking at him with a blissful expression. He lowered his voice and said, “Skylar, don’t do that. My sister’s here; just eat your food, okay?” Hearing this, Skylar opened her eyes, shot me a glare, and clung to Dylan’s arm, pouting, “Dylan, do you love your sister more than me now? You used to never say no to me!” Dylan, looking uncomfortable, lowered his voice to soothe Skylar. “Skylar, my sister just went through a breakup. It’s not nice to tease her like this, and it’s not proper either.” Somewhere along the line, Skylar’s temper flared. She slammed her chopsticks on the table and stood up. “Dylan! Why is your sister more important than me? Just because she got dumped doesn’t mean I should be her little servant! You’re the only son; everything in this family will be yours! She’s just a daughter who’ll marry out someday. Why should I bow to her, an outsider?” At this point, my temper also flared. “Who are you calling an outsider?” Skylar seemed taken aback by my sudden anger, shrinking back slightly, but quickly regained her bravado, glaring at me. “I’m talking about you!” Seeing a confrontation brewing, Dylan hurriedly stood up to comfort Skylar. Skylar ignored him, pointing her finger at me. “Avery, do you have no shame? You show up uninvited and take over my room!” “You seem to forget who the real owner of this house is.”
“So what if the title is in your name? Your family only has Dylan as a son, and all the property will eventually belong to him!” “Once you marry, you’re no longer part of this family. Are you planning to take this house with you when you marry?” I raised an eyebrow. “Why shouldn’t I? It’s my property, and I can do whatever I want with it.” “You’re so selfish…” Skylar stared at me in disbelief, as if I had said something completely outrageous. Before she could continue her rant, Dylan picked her up and carried her away. “Avery, I’m sorry. Skylar isn’t usually like this; don’t be mad. I’ll talk to her. You just enjoy your meal, and after you eat, you can rest. I’ll handle the cleanup.” With that, Dylan dragged her into the guest room. After all that commotion, I lost my appetite. I returned to my bedroom to handle some work my assistant had sent to my email, getting so caught up that I lost track of time. When I finally looked up, it was already past 11 PM. After shutting down my computer and getting ready for a shower, my phone suddenly pinged with a friend request. —Hey Sis, I’m sorry. It was obvious that Dylan had made Skylar add me on social media. After I accepted the request, she quickly followed up with another message: “I’m sorry.” I didn’t have the energy to lecture Skylar on the principles of respect, so I simply replied, “Whatever.” I didn’t know if Dylan was using Skylar’s phone to apologize or if it was her idea; I didn’t want to figure it out. Like I said, I’m not the one who’ll be living with her. After my shower, I lay in bed and, out of habit, scrolled through Instagram. This action chased away any drowsiness I had just managed to gather. The top post was from Skylar, shared just seven minutes ago, reading: “My boundary-less sister-in-law also made an appearance. Not only did she force my boyfriend to wear matching scarves with her, but after getting dumped, she insists on moving into our master bedroom, leaving me and my boyfriend stuck in the cramped guest room.” The exaggerated description made my blood pressure spike. I couldn’t help but screenshot it and vent to my best friend, who immediately called me after reading it. “Avery, can you really put up with this? What’s wrong with Dylan? How could he be dating someone like her? Don’t worry, I’ll come over tomorrow and see what kind of little diva she is!” “No need. She’s not worth your trouble. Let her pack her things and leave tomorrow! If Dylan supports her, then he can leave with her.” So she wants to slander me, huh? And she didn’t even block me, making sure I saw it, trying to provoke me? If I let her into our family, I’d be the one to change my last name! I thought if Dylan liked her, I could tolerate her for his sake, but today Skylar really pushed my buttons, almost to the point of a full-on dance-off! In the Stone family, it’s either me or her!
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