Before Ryan, our shared apartment was a peaceful sanctuary amidst our hectic lives as a junior doctor and marketing professional. But when Jenna’s boyfriend started raiding our fridge daily, it turned our once harmonious home into a battleground over groceries and respect.
My name is Emma, and I’m a junior doctor. My life revolves around grueling hours at the hospital. Every day feels like a marathon. I get home late, hoping for some rest, but peace is hard to find in my shared apartment.
Before Ryan came into our lives, living with Jenna was pretty harmonious. We both had busy schedules but managed to make our apartment a peaceful haven.
I was a junior doctor, juggling long shifts at the hospital. Jenna worked in marketing, which meant she had her fair share of late nights and tight deadlines too.
Weekends were a rare treat for us. On the few weekends that I wasn’t on call, we’d have lazy Saturday mornings, sipping coffee and catching up on each other’s lives.
She shrugged, “He’s just hungry, Emma. He Venmo’s you the money, doesn’t he?”
“That’s not the point,” I replied. “I come home exhausted, looking forward to a meal, and there’s nothing left for me. I don’t have time to shop every day.”
Jenna just sighed, “You’re being petty. It’s just food.”
“What is this?” he asked, holding up a carton of milk labeled $50.
“Those are the new prices,” I said calmly. “Since you treat my fridge like a mini-bar, I thought it was only fair.”
He laughed, thinking I was joking. But when I didn’t laugh back, his smile faded. “You’re serious?”
I bit back a retort, turning away. This wasn’t going anywhere. She was too smitten with the guy to see reason. I needed another way to prove my point.
The next morning, I took stock of what was left. Oddly, the green vegetables, like broccoli and celery were always untouched. An idea struck me. What if I started cooking with those? I sautéed some broccoli and mixed it with my pasta, hoping it would make a difference.
For a few days, it did. I deliberately placed containers of left-overs of that stuff in the fridge, and it remained untouched. But the almond milk? That kept vanishing. It was infuriating. One night, I overheard Tina and Dylan talking in the living room.
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