“You’re seriously doing this?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t just decide I have to leave.”

“You’ve had more than a year.”

Her mouth twisted.

“You’re kicking me out because of one joke. Grow up.”

“It isn’t one joke.”

Then I listed everything.

The dirty dishes.

The parties.

Her friends.

The disrespect.

The lack of rent.

The fact that I could no longer sit peacefully inside the home I was paying for.

When I finished, she tilted her head.

“Poor Thomas.”

That was when I knew there was no point explaining anymore.

She didn’t think she had done anything wrong.

Worse.

She thought I deserved it.

Karen called repeatedly while I was at work.

I ignored her.

When I came home that evening, both women were sitting on my couch.

Waiting.

Karen stood.

“We need to have a family meeting.”

“No.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“No?”

“We’re not having a meeting.”