Cornering My Homewrecking Roomie In The Shower ^hot^ Today

"How could you?" I demanded, my voice low and even. Rachel's eyes darted back and forth, searching for an escape route or a plausible excuse. But she was cornered, literally and figuratively.

There is a specific, hellish kind of rage that bubbles up when you realize the person who ate your leftover pad thai is also the person who tried to dismantle your entire relationship. For the past three months, I have been living with a villain. Not a cartoon villain who twirls a mustache, but the insidious kind. The kind who leaves her wet laundry in the machine for six hours and “accidentally” sends thirst traps to your boyfriend’s Instagram DMs. cornering my homewrecking roomie in the shower

The shower curtain was that cheap vinyl we bought at Target. The one with the little stars. She had her back to me, head tilted under the water, humming something by SZA. I watched her for exactly three seconds. Watched the water run down her spine. Watched her pretend she was the main character in a movie where she wasn’t a total garbage person. "How could you

The water continued to run, but Rachel's body seemed to freeze. She looked like a trapped animal, her eyes darting back and forth. There is a specific, hellish kind of rage

This helps to avoid sounding accusatory. For instance, "I feel disrespected when my space is not respected" instead of "You always disrespect my space."