Sweat beaded across his forehead, and the top two buttons of his shirt hung open.
He saw me, then saw Felicia standing inside the doorway. His feet stopped dead.
“Joy.”
He called my name.
His voice came out thin.
Felicia's eyes went red instantly, and she rushed to his side.
“Fabian, she called the cops!”
“She said I broke in illegally!”
“She even said this apartment is hers!”
Fabian pulled her behind him without thinking.
The gesture was subtle.
But it told me more than any explanation ever could.
I stared at him.
“Fabian.”
“Don't you think you owe me an explanation?”
He wouldn't meet my eyes.
“Joy, calm down first.”
“Felicia just got divorced. She had nowhere to go.”
“I just let her crash here for a few days.”
“I was going to tell you.”
I looked at the brand-new lock on the door.
“Crashing for a few days requires changing the locks?”
He choked on his own words.
Felicia whimpered behind him.
“Fabian, maybe I should just go.”
“A divorced woman like me is just a nuisance wherever she goes.”
Fabian panicked immediately.
“Don't say that.”
He turned to look at me.
His tone hardened.
“Joy, do you have to be so aggressive about this?”
“Your family's well off. Don't fight her over a little space.”
I almost laughed out loud.
“I'm fighting her?”
“Fabian, this is my apartment.”
“Not a shelter for your ex.”
He frowned.
“Yours, mine, what's the difference.”
“We're getting our marriage license next week.”
“Once we're married, it's all one family, right?”
Footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Two officers arrived.
“Who called this in?”
I raised my hand.
“I did.”
The officers checked my ID and the photo of my property deed.
Then they asked Felicia to show proof she had a right to be there.
Felicia stammered and stalled.
All she could manage was one line：
“Fabian told me I could live here.”
The officers turned to Fabian.
“Are you the property owner?”
Fabian said nothing.
The officers' expressions tightened.
“If you're not the owner, what gives you the right to move someone in and change the locks?”
Felicia finally realized something was wrong.
She grabbed Fabian's sleeve.
“Fabian, didn't you say you bought this place?”
“Didn't you say her name's on the deed only because her family pressured you into it?”
I laughed.
Fabian's head whipped toward me.
A warning flashed in his eyes.
“Joy, let's talk about this at home.”
“Don't make a scene out here.”
I looked right at him.
“A scene?”
“You moved your ex-girlfriend into my home. She's wearing my slippers. Sleeping in my bed.”
“And now you're worried about making a scene?”
Even the officers looked disgusted.
“The situation's clear enough.”
“The owner doesn't consent. You both need to vacate immediately.”
Felicia lost it.
“On what grounds?”
“All my stuff is in there!”
I glanced toward the apartment.
“Your stuff?”
“Perfect.”
“Officers, do you mind if I go in and take inventory?”
The officers nodded.
I walked through the door.
The moment I stepped inside, a wave of cloying perfume hit me.
Like someone had crammed a piece of rotting candy into the home my mother had prepared for me.
Two wineglasses sat on the coffee table.
One of them still had a lipstick mark on the rim.
A few shipping boxes were stacked next to the TV stand.
Recipient：Felicia Chavez.
The master bedroom door was half open.
I pushed it the rest of the way.
The bed was dressed in a deep burgundy bedding set.
A color I had never seen before.
