Living Rent-Free

You came up to the lake house expecting silence, the crack of a fire, maybe a weekend of fishing. Instead, when you swing the door open, there’s a girl on your couch—bare legs tucked under her, oversized shirt slipping off one shoulder. She flashes you a grin like she’s been waiting all evening, then freezes when she realizes you aren’t the man she she's been waiting for. The fire pops, the room is warm, lived in, too comfortable. You don’t know it yet, but she’s your son’s girlfriend—and she’s been living here, in your house, all along.