The Freeloader in My Home

After staring at the electronic door lock for a couple of seconds, my fiancée, Tamara Jackson, actually broke into a smile.

"Alright. The man of the house has spoken," she declared.

She then lowered her head to rummage through the bottom rack of the shoe cabinet for a pair of my house slippers, which she tossed by my feet.

"Change your shoes first. Aren't your feet hurting from running around hunting for construction materials all day today?" she asked.

She almost sounded too natural.

She remembered a lot of things about me—from my shoe size and the location of my stomach medicine to the fact that I liked my yogurt unsweetened.

However, despite having all my preferences in mind, she had invited another man into our marital home.

Ian had hung his head and was already reaching for his suitcase.

He said, "If Shane's not happy with this, I'll just go back to my hotel. I just wanted to give him a surprise and would rather not make things awkward for everyone."

Tamara reached out to grab the handle of his suitcase and said, "Your luggage is heavy. Don't trouble yourself moving it around."

I looked up and told her, "Let him leave."

Her smile faded a little. "Shane, he just had his engagement called off."

"So?" I asked.

"So, he's feeling really upset right now."

"That's his business."

Tamara's brows instantly furrowed. It was as if she hadn't expected me to be so direct.

This time, my older sister, Melody Shea, was the first to speak.

"When we were children, Ian used to sleep over in your room every time his parents got into a fight. Now that we're all grown up, why are you getting your pants in a twist just because he's staying over for a few days?"

My good friend, Derek Hill, also tugged on my arm and said, "He only came back to be your best man at your wedding anyway. Just think of him moving in a few days ahead of you as a literal housewarming gift."

I looked at Ian and asked, "When did you move in?"

"Five days ago," he replied.

"Who greenlit it?"

He reflexively looked toward Tamara, who decided to own up to it.

"I did," she replied bluntly.

I smiled and asked, "Didn't you tell me that you've been rushing to finish a project for the past two weeks?"

"His situation hasn't cost me any delays."

"What about you helping him pick out a mattress?"

She paused before replying, "I didn't have to go out of my way for that."

"And the curtains?"

Derek replied in a small voice, "I helped him pick them out."

I then looked at Melody.

She confessed, "Those few business trips I mentioned were actually trips to help him move out of his rented place and move in here."

All three of them had lied to me, claiming that they were otherwise occupied.

In the past six months, I'd visited construction supply yards alone, carried tile samples onto crowded subways, and sent different-colored closet door photos into the group chat late at night.

I often went through all that effort only to receive a dismissive reply from Tamara the next day, claiming that anything would do.

Yet, they hadn't actually all been busy.

They'd simply chosen to spend their time with Ian instead.

Ian was still attempting to explain himself.

"I was the one who told them to keep things from you. You're getting married soon, and I didn't want to bother you with my own woes."

Tamara immediately added, "Did you hear that? He was afraid of affecting you."

I looked at her and asked, "So, am I supposed to thank him for that?"

She was momentarily stumped, after which she smiled and tried to snuggle into my embrace.

"Alright, alright. I admit I misspoke, so please don't give me such a sour look, dearest."

I turned my head and stepped away from her.

Instead of getting annoyed, she turned and picked up Ian's two suitcases.

"I'll send him back to a hotel," she announced.

As she walked past me, she said in a low voice, "I'll buy you some candied nuts later tonight. They used to be really effective at calming your temper, and I'm sure that fact remains true."

After they left, I crouched to tidy up the master bedroom.

There was a receipt from a moving company dated five days ago tucked behind the bedside table.

It showed that they'd moved luggage from a hotel to this address.

An attached note read, "Long-term resident moving in with considerable luggage. Please handle items with care."

Tamara's signature could be seen in the signature column.

I flipped the receipt over to the back page and saw that the moving company had circled some words in red ink.

"The master bedroom has been cleared out in advance and is move-in ready."

I stared at that line of text, abruptly recalling how I'd asked them if they could spare a day to help tidy up the wedding home five days ago.

All three of them had claimed that they were busy.

Ian's return had never been some so-called surprise gift.

It was simply a decision they'd made for me that I had no choice but to accept with a smile.