Someone Else Moved Into My House

“Ms. Wright, are you sure you want to sell this place at half the going rate?” the real estate agent asked in disbelief.

After all, properties in this location were in high demand. No one would sell at such a low price.

Not to mention, the renovation was fully complete, and it was ready for move-in.

“I’m sure,” I said without any hesitation.

I had designed the floor plan myself; I had handled every detail of the decor, chosen the paint color down to the last shade, and picked out every piece of furniture as well.

My fiance, Austin, had never asked or cared.

All he ever said was, “Just do whatever you think is right.”

I just realized that my hard work had become half of someone else’s home during the final inspection.

To accommodate my best friend, Laurel, he had even shrunk my bedroom to half its size.

He had also demolished the walk-in closet I had spent over half a month planning.

In that case, this home no longer needed to exist.

“Who are you texting?”

Austin leaned in to look, but I turned off my phone screen.

“The contractor.”

“Oh. Well, make sure you tell them Laurel’s room needs warm white paint.

“Oh, Get her a dehumidifier while you’re at it. The rainy season is coming soon. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable.”

He spoke so naturally as if taking care of her had long become second nature to him.

When it came to me, however, he never showed the same concern.

I suffered from severe eczema every rainy season, which left my entire body red and itchy.

I brought up the idea of buying a dehumidifier countless times, but Austin always shook his head and refused.

“That’s just a scam for gullible people. It’s a total waste of money.

“The rainy season won't last long anyway. Just deal with it.”

Recalling his words made me smile in self-deprecation.

“Okay.”

At dinner, Laurel casually typed in the passcode and pushed the door open.

Then, she sat down in her usual seat and took the special bowl and utensils that Austin handed to her.

Austin nudged me and urgently said, “What are you waiting for? Get Laurel some food.

At some point, I had turned into a maid in my own home during meals. I had to dish out her food first and made sure there was no smudge on her plate.

Otherwise, her germaphobia would have her scowling at me.

After that, Austin would give me an earful.

“You can’t even wash a dish right. Is there anything you can actually do?”

In the past, I tolerated it because she was my best friend.

I let it slide when Austin cooked only what she liked and forgot my seafood allergy; I did the same when they drank together, with their arms linked and him pulling her close in a daze.

Laurel did not care about my feelings at all, as she just let it happen.

Every time, I would just force a small smile and swallow my feelings.

This time, I did not want to hold back anymore.

I helped myself with the food right after I sat down.

Laurel was taken aback. She was still holding out her plate for me.

Austin frowned even more and yelled at me, “Grace, what’s wrong with you?!

“Laurel’s plate is still empty. How could you start eating already?”

I clenched my fist subconsciously as I looked at him.

“I’m not her mother. Why do I have to dish out her food first?

“Austin, you’re not even trying to hide who your favorite is anymore.”