“Surprise,” she said cheerfully. “I’m moving in.”
For a moment I simply stared at her.
My brain struggled to process the sentence. Moving in. As if she had just brought a small gift, not three giant suitcases and an announcement.
“Vanessa…” I said slowly, my voice still rough from sleep. “What are you doing here?”
She shrugged casually.
“Moving in,” she repeated.
And then she stepped forward.
She didn’t wait for an invitation. She didn’t pause to see if I would object. She simply brushed past me, dragging one suitcase across the floor as if the apartment already belonged to her.
The wheels clattered across the wooden floorboards I had cleaned the night before.
I stood frozen in the doorway for a second, still holding the handle.
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