They say you don’t really know someone until you live together. I learned Ella’s true colors in record time—twenty-three hours and forty minutes, to be exact.
The conflict simmered from day one. Despite our agreement, Ella clearly resented Stephanie keeping the best bedroom. “It’s simple math,” she’d argued. “Two girls deserve more space than one.” I’d stood firm, never imagining she’d take matters into her own hands.
Coming home to chaos, I found:
-
Stephanie’s cherished belongings tossed in the basement
-
Ella’s daughters treating her room like a boutique dressing room
-
Precious mementos of her late mother treated carelessly
When confronted, Ella doubled down. “She’ll adjust,” she shrugged, as if discussing a minor inconvenience rather than my child’s heartbreak. That’s when I realized—this wasn’t about square footage. It was about Ella testing whether I’d prioritize her over my own daughter.
The answer came swiftly. As I placed my engagement ring on the kitchen counter, Ella’s shocked “It’s just a room!” confirmed we’d never see family the same way. Some lines can’t be uncrossed, especially when they involve betraying a child who’s already lost so much.
