The Uninvited Houseguest

Out of sheer kindness, I brought my drunk, heartbroken coworker home for the night after she'd been dumped. Little did I know, she'd treat my place like it was her own.

"Isla, I gave my ex my whole paycheck. I'm just gonna stay here for the rest of the month. You've got this huge place all to yourself anyway—such a waste. It's perfect, we can keep each other company. And hey, no rent. You're already cooking for yourself, so what's one more plate, right?"

I stopped typing and blinked, trying to process what she was saying.

She kept going, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna take advantage—I'll chip in 2 bucks a day. Honestly, you must get so lonely living alone. Aren't I sweet for offering?"

I just stared at her, barely holding back a laugh at her blatant audacity.

That evening, I slipped out of the office early, went straight home, and deadbolted the door behind me. No matter how much she knocked and yelled from the hallway, I didn't budge.

The next morning, she stormed over to my desk and slammed her hand on my cubicle wall, her tone dripping with accusation. "You were home last night—why didn't you open the door?! I had nowhere to go, had to crash at a hotel, and between that and food, I dropped 60 bucks. You owe me."

She shoved her phone screen—payment receipts on full display—right in my face.

I couldn't help it—I laughed out loud.

If she wanted to play that game, fine. If she thought she could push me around, she was about to learn what real-world consequences looked like.

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have ended up at a hotel. Why won't you pay me back?"

Madison Cooper jabbed a finger at me, her face flushed with humiliation.

"I'm your trainee—you're supposed to take responsibility for me. Your place is just sitting there empty anyway. Why are you being so petty?"

She made sure to raise her voice as she said it. The moment the words left her mouth, our coworkers turned to watch with eager, gossip-hungry eyes.

I kept my eyes on my screen, fingers still flying across the keyboard.

"I'm your supervisor, not your mother."

She froze for a second, her expression turning uglier. I figured with how harsh I'd put it, she'd at least have enough shame to back off.

But instead, she switched gears and put on a pitiful, wounded act, refusing to let it go.

"But doesn't the old saying go, 'A teacher for a day is a parent for life'? I just got dumped, and I got scammed out of all my money. I really have nowhere to go. What's the big deal if you let me crash with you? It's not like it's costing you anything!"

She said it so casually, as if the place hadn't cost me my own hard-earned money.

As for how I got stuck with her in the first place—last night, I was out having dinner with a friend when I passed by a bar and saw her drunk out of her mind. A few guys nearby were circling her with clear intentions. She was so wasted she couldn't even tell me her address. I was afraid something would happen to her, so I took her home.

Little did I know, inviting her in was easy—getting her out would be the real problem.

I let out a quiet laugh and tilted my head toward her.

"If we're talking about 'a teacher for a day,' I really can't take that honor. Our manager's given you plenty of guidance too—why don't you go stay with her?"

Her face dropped, and her eyes instantly welled up with tears.

One of the older coworkers who couldn't stand it anymore chimed in to defend her.

"Isla, do you have to be that harsh?"

"Yeah, what kind of person bullies a newbie like that?"

"She wouldn't be begging you like this if she weren't desperate. And don't you live in a three-bedroom all by yourself?"

I couldn't help but find it ridiculous.

"So just because my place has extra rooms, I'm supposed to hand one over to her? Do I owe her that?"

Madison pursed her lips.

"But you're all alone. Why can't I stay there? Unless... there's something in your apartment you don't want anyone to see?"

The moment she said that, the murmurs around us grew louder.

I took a deep breath.

So apparently, living alone in a big apartment meant I must be hiding something.

I lifted my chin, my face cold and unflinching.

"I just don't want you to stay there."

The moment those words left my mouth, the entire office fell dead silent.