The day we moved into our new apartment, I was full of excitement.
I carefully unpacked my books, plants, and cherished photos while Matt set up his gaming gear.
I even went out to grab lunch to celebrate our first day in our new place.
But when I came back, everything had changed.
Matt had shoved all of my belongings into a closet.
His things now dominated the bedroom, living room, and bathroom.
When I asked him about it, he said, “I’m the one paying the rent, so my stuff comes first.”
Then he added, “You should make dinner tonight. It’s the least you can do since I’m paying for everything.”
That’s when reality hit me—this wasn’t our home. It was his. And I was just a guest who owed him something.
I didn’t argue. I smiled, handed him his lunch, and quietly called his father.
