Eight people would be stepping over Leo’s toys and opening my refrigerator while using my bathroom and touching my expensive work monitor. They would be sleeping in my bed or on the floor of my son’s room because Tiffany decided that Brandon’s parents deserved somewhere central to stay.
I pushed my cart against a wall of red baskets to get out of the way of other shoppers while I sent a text telling her that she could not stay at my place. The typing bubble appeared instantly as she prepared her next move to pressure me into compliance.
“Ethan, you are being far too dramatic about this situation,” she wrote back while explaining that they had already told the in laws the plan. She claimed that their bags were already in the car and that they were only ten minutes away from my front door.
I checked the time to see that it was nearly half past five in the evening, which meant she was not asking for permission but was instead timing my arrival. My apartment was only eleven minutes away from that Walmart if the traffic cooperated, so I opened my smart lock app as fast as I could.