The Dream Home That Evicted Its Groom

The faucet was still running. I bent down to turn it off and nearly hit my forehead on the mirrored cabinet.

Water ran down my arm, slipped into my sleeve, and soaked the front of my shirt.

It also washed away the last bit of hope I had left.

Claire Bennett stood in the doorway and said impatiently, "It's only a few inches lower. Do you have to give me that look?"

"It's five and a half inches."

I turned off the water and straightened up. My lower back was already starting to ache.

"The bathroom counter was supposed to be 36 inches high according to the design plans, but now it's only 31 inches. The kitchen counters, desk, mirrored cabinet, and closet rods have all been lowered."

Claire looked up.

"You actually measured all that?"

"I'm going to be living here."

I spent more than a dozen late nights fine-tuning the initial design. I visited seven different showrooms just to settle on a 36-inch counter height. I even put together a spreadsheet to check every detail, from the tiles and LED strip lighting to the cabinets and hardware.

Toward the end of the renovation, I had to go on one business trip after another to earn enough money to cover the costs. That was why I left Claire in charge of overseeing the work.

Only photos of individual sections had been shared in the renovation group chat. It wasn't until today that I discovered every measurement marked in red on the design plans had been changed.

"Then, I'll just get anything that's too low for you from now on. Wouldn't that solve the problem?"

She said it so casually that my thoughts briefly drifted back to three years ago.

Back then, the kitchen counter in our rental apartment was too low. Claire went with me to buy some risers. We spent all night raising the desk and bed frame.

When she crawled out from under the desk, her face was smudged with dust. She smiled and wrapped her arms around me.

She promised that when we had a home of our own, everything would be built to suit my height. I'd never have to bend over or compromise on my comfort.

Yet here she was, presenting me with a house where I couldn't even wash my face or cook without bending over. And now she was telling me she could help me out occasionally.

"Claire, I don't want to have to bend over every time I do something in my own home."

"It's just a matter of putting some risers under the furniture. How much could that possibly cost?"

Her reply didn't address what I'd said.

The sky outside had gone completely dark, but the living room's sensor-activated lights hadn't come on.

I walked to the center of the room and spoke to the smart speaker.

"Turn on the living room lights."

"Voice recognition failed. Please try again."

I repeated the command, but it still didn't work.

Julian Parker cleared his throat.

"Turn on the living room lights."

The LED strips throughout the house lit up in sequence, and even the curtains automatically slid open. The evening darkness spilled into the living room.

Julian stood in the center of the brightly lit room, as though the house itself recognized him as the man of the house.

"Welcome home, Julian."

The automated female voice sounded, and the room fell silent for a moment.

I looked at Claire, but she avoided my gaze.

He blinked and looked at me innocently.

"Ethan, don't get the wrong idea. She asked me to help test the system the day before yesterday. She probably just forgot to remove my access."

"Claire, you should revoke my access right away. I wouldn't want him getting upset again."

Claire reached for my hand.

"Everyone's here today. Don't ruin the mood over something so trivial. I'll set up voice recognition for you tonight."

I dodged her hand.

"Redo the furniture, remove his access from the system, and register my voice instead."

Her expression immediately darkened.

"Can you stop making a scene? All the custom furniture has already been installed. Removing it and having everything redone would cost at least another 20,000 dollars."

"But I paid for most of the renovation."

"You paid for it, but Julian and I put in our time, too. We can't just tear the whole place apart because it's a little inconvenient for you."

The woman standing before me suddenly felt like a stranger. A chill ran down my spine despite the midsummer heat.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. Several friends arrived to see the new house, carrying bottles of liquor as housewarming gifts.

"This house looks so comfortable. The photos Julian posted a few days ago really captured the vibe."

"This kind of low kitchen island is perfect for Julian. Someone taller would definitely have a hard time using it without straining their back."