The next two months were pure misery. Dirty dishes stacked up endlessly, laundry sat rotting in the washer until it smelled sour, and food disappeared from the fridge without warning. No rent was paid. No bills were shared. Not even a simple “thank you.”
One morning, as I once again scrubbed breakfast dishes, Tyler and Gwen walked into the kitchen looking unusually cheerful. “Katie,” Tyler announced, wrapping an arm around Gwen, “we’ve got incredible news.”
Gwen grinned and held up a pregnancy test. “I’m pregnant!”
“Oh,” I said, genuinely taken aback. “Congratulations.”
“And,” Gwen added, that smug smile I’d grown to loathe creeping across her face, “I guess that means we won’t be moving out anytime soon.”
My grip tightened on the plate in my hands. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you both,” I said carefully. “I think it’s time you started looking for your own place. This wasn’t something I agreed to—”
Tyler cut me off with a laugh. “Not happening. You’re not going to kick out a pregnant woman, are you? That would be heartless.”
“This is my house,” I said. “Dad left it to me.”
“It’s the family home,” Mom snapped, entering the kitchen. “They’re starting a family. What’s wrong with you? Have some compassion!” All three of them stared at me like I was the villain.
“Fine,” I said at last, setting the plate down before it shattered. “But things need to change.” Tyler scoffed as he opened the fridge. “Sure thing, princess.” They left laughing. Mom stayed behind.
“You need to be more flexible,” she said. “Gwen’s pregnant now. She requires special attention.” I turned back to the sink overflowing with their mess. “Right,” I muttered. “Special attention.” I had no idea how literal that would become.
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