A year after my mum died, I came home to find my suitcases standing by the door and a stranger in my late mum’s dressing gown lying in the living room. Her ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend was smirking and telling me it was time for me to leave, but she had no idea whose house she was actually in.
I swung the front door open and a suitcase rolled in behind me. The house smelled like cheap perfume and something greasy. It didn’t feel right. My mum always kept the house clean, warm and familiarly cosy.
Then I saw two large suitcases stacked neatly by the door. My suitcases. I froze. My pulse pounded in my ears.
Had someone broken in? No. The door hadn’t been forced. The house looked lived in. Then I heard the sound of the television.
I stepped into the living room and froze.
A woman was sitting cross-legged on the couch, smirking. She held a wine glass in one hand and a remote control in the other, switching channels as if the place belonged to her. But the worst part?
She was wearing her mum’s dressing gown.
The woman turned to me and scanned me from head to toe like I was a delivery she hadn’t ordered.
‘Oh,’ she said with a laugh. ‘You’re back sooner than I thought.’
‘Who are you?’ My voice came out sharper than I expected.
She stretched out on the couch, perfectly still. ‘I’m Vanessa. Rick’s fiancée.’
Rick. My mum’s ex. The man I let stay here out of respect for her last wish.
I clenched my jaw. ‘Where’s Rick?’
Vanessa sipped her wine, looking pleased with herself. ‘Oh, he’s away on business. But he told me about you.’ She set her glass on the coffee table – my mother’s coffee table. ‘Look, honey, Rick and I talked, and we really need some alone time. You understand, right?’
I stared at her. My brain refused to take in what she was saying. Did she need this space?
‘This is my house,’ I said slowly.
Vanessa laughed. ‘Oh, sweetie. I know it was nice of Rick to let you stay here, but come on. You’re a grown woman now. It’s time to move on.’
I gritted my teeth. ‘Rick doesn’t own this house.’
She waved her hand dismissively. ‘Oh, we’ll get those legal matters settled soon enough. In fact, the lawyer will be here in about an hour to explain everything.’
I had to restrain the trembling in my hands. Legal matters?
I inhaled sharply. Vanessa was watching me, expecting tears, pleading, anger-something she could mock. I gave her none of those things. Instead, I met her smug look and said: ‘Then I’ll wait.’
Vanessa’s smile wavered for a second. Just for a second. Then she shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’
I sank into the chair across from her, arms crossed, with my heart pounding. She smirked and went back to watching TV, acting like I was the one who had invaded her life.
I remembered sitting in the hospital room, silent and waiting. Mum’s voice was weak, but her hand squeezed mine.
‘This house is yours, honey,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve got it all set up. You won’t have to worry.’
I swallowed back tears. ‘Okay, Mum.’
She sighed, glancing at the door. I knew who she was thinking about. Rick.
‘Just…don’t kick him out right away,’ she mumbled. ‘He needs time to figure things out.’
I wanted to tell her that Rick had had years to figure things out. He was forty-two, unemployed, and had been ‘figuring things out’ for as long as I’d known him.
But my mother was dying. I couldn’t argue with her.
So I nodded. ‘I won’t.’
She smiled, squeezed my hand again, and closed her eyes. A week later, she was gone.
I had honoured her last wish, and it was my mistake. Rick wouldn’t leave.
First he said he needed a month until he was back on his feet. Then one month turned into three. Three turned into six.
I was barely on my feet – grieving, working, trying to figure out college – and Rick? He acted like he owned everything here.
It was little things at first. Sitting in her chair, flipping through the TV channels like he was king of the house. Leaving beer cans on the counter. Making remarks about what I ‘should’ do with his space.
Then things started to get more serious. One day I discovered that pictures of my mother were missing from the mantel. Another day he started bringing people over to visit without asking.
By the time I left for my college preparatory programme, I felt like a stranger in my own home. But I still thought: maybe when I got back, he’d finally leave.
Now, looking at Vanessa sitting in my living room in her mother’s dressing gown, I realised something. Rick had never planned on leaving.
And now he considered me a guest.
I sat crossed my arms and stared at the TV screen while Vanessa pretended I didn’t exist.
Rick had come back about twenty minutes before, all smug and satisfied, like he’d already won. He barely looked at me, just kissed Vanessa on the cheek, and then sank down on the couch next to her.
‘Well, I guess she got the news,’ he said, nodding in my direction.