My parents want to give my house to my brother. When I refused, Dad yelled, “Ungrateful! Get out!

The Intrusion and the Suspicions

I’m Alexa, a 33-year-old remote worker currently living at my parents’ home where I manage my daily responsibilities. I’m single at the moment, and my family includes my parents and my brother, who married last year. I had always thought that my brother and his wife, Romina, were enjoying marital bliss.

Recently, Romina has been visiting us more often. This house is her in-laws’, and I wondered if she might feel awkward on her initial visits. However, she seemed quite at ease and didn’t display any signs of nervousness.

Unlike me, who is often overwhelmed by her beauty and confident presence, Romina has a way of making me feel like a sister to her. She engages in open and frank conversations.

One day, she casually asked me why I didn’t have a boyfriend, questioning if I felt uncomfortable around men. I explained that my remote job doesn’t allow many opportunities for social interactions, making it tough to meet new people or attend social gatherings.

Romina listened intently and sympathized with the challenge of finding opportunities. She kindly offered help, suggesting tips on makeup and fashion to help boost my confidence.

Romina’s nurturing approach makes me feel genuinely cared for, almost as if she were my actual sister. She encouraged me to step out of my comfort zone, enhance my style, and be ready to make a great impression when the right person comes along.

I’m truly thankful for her support and the proactive advice she offers. At home, I often wear a bandana to keep my hair out of my face while working, a simple yet practical choice for concentration.

Romina’s words made me think about the basics of personal appeal and the small changes I could make to enhance my presence, even in my remote work setting. Since I mostly stay at home, I rarely wear makeup, focusing instead on keeping my skin moisturized.

There’s seldom a need to dress up, so comfortable loungewear is my usual attire at home. It’s hard to imagine stepping outside dressed like this. Since Romina mostly sees me in this casual setup, she might not have a clear idea of how I prepare for more formal occasions.

In fact, at my brother’s wedding and other significant family events, I’ve always made sure to wear proper makeup and dress appropriately. Yet, it seems that Romina has overlooked these efforts.

One day, Romina excitedly suggested we go through my wardrobe.

“Let’s start by checking out your closet, Alexa,” she declared.

Without waiting, she entered my room and started to examine my closet meticulously. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should stop her, but recognizing her good intentions, I decided to watch.

I don’t have a vast collection of clothes, but I am choosy about what I buy, ensuring everything reflects my personal style. My favorite brands are neatly organized, which seemed to surprise Romina.

“Wow, I didn’t expect you to have such nice clothes, and your makeup items are top-notch, too,” she remarked, evidently impressed.

She had always thought the brands I favored were too pricey for her. As Romina continued to explore, she commented on each piece of clothing and examined my makeup case.

After about an hour, feeling that her enthusiasm might be a bit much, I gently interjected.

“Romina, it’s about time,” I suggested.

Snapped back to the present by my words, she apologized. “Oh, I got carried away looking through your things,” she concluded that there was no need for new purchases.

Romina had even taken out all my winter clothes to inspect them, leaving them scattered about—a bit of a mess which she didn’t seem inclined to tidy. “No, I carefully select my makeup products myself,” I explained a bit defensively.

My skin is sensitive, so I’ve tried various brands and narrowed it down to these specific items. Romina looked surprised and mentioned.

“With such high-quality makeup at your disposal, it seems you don’t often go out and thus don’t use it much, do you?”.

I nodded, admitting, “Yes, honestly, I hardly ever wear makeup unless there’s a special occasion.” I only apply it when absolutely necessary.

As I replied that I only wear makeup when absolutely necessary, Romina seemed dissatisfied. She assertively declared.

“That won’t do. Next time I see you, I’ll teach you some makeup techniques”.

As Romina sifted through my closet, evening approached, and she finally decided it was time to head home. I often wondered about the frequency of her visits.

Could it be that things were not going well between her and my brother? This thought troubled me. Why would she come to our house so often if her relationship with my brother was faltering?

I couldn’t quite pin down Romina’s motives and found myself puzzled. Meanwhile, my parents embraced her frequent visits, treating her as a beloved family member.

This sharply contrasted with my bewildered reception. “Isn’t it nice for Alexa to have a big sister? We’re looking forward to Romina giving you makeup lessons next time,” they remarked joyfully.

They added a note of caution, “But it’s not good for Alexa to rely too much on Romina”. I nodded in agreement, harboring mixed feelings internally.

Truth be told, I had never actively sought makeup advice from Romina. My life is incredibly busy, and prioritizing romance or extensive beauty routines isn’t feasible.

Romina’s offer to teach me makeup techniques was her own initiative, not a request from me. From past experiences, I often find myself caught up in Romina’s whirlwind of spontaneous ideas.

While my parents interpret this as her being supportive, I sometimes wish she would be more mindful of my need for personal space, especially since I’m focused on working from home.

Yet, I find it hard to outright reject her suggestions because they are well-intentioned. Discussing this with my parents, who are very welcoming of her, feels daunting.

With these heavy thoughts, I returned to my room and began reorganizing the winter clothes that Romina had left scattered around. As I folded and stored each item, a sudden concern struck me. My favorite sweater was missing.

“Wait, where’s my favorite sweater?” I muttered to myself, a sense of annoyance creeping in.

I had no recollection of ever discarding that sweater, and its absence now felt strangely significant amidst the day’s chaotic reflections. Whenever I update my wardrobe by purchasing new clothes, I make it a point to responsibly part with the ones I no longer need.

This way, I maintain a clear inventory of my closet contents. I distinctly remembered not having disposed of my favorite winter garment, a piece I had bought just last year and which still looked almost new.

I had diligently stored it, knowing exactly where each item belonged. The last time my closet had been accessed was earlier today when Romina was rummaging through my room during her visit.

I stepped out to the living room to ask my parents to prepare some warm tea and snacks for her, leaving her alone in my room for a brief period. I noticed she had brought her bag into my room, which might explain her ability to conceal anything unobserved.

However, outright accusing Romina of theft seemed premature and potentially unbelievable without concrete proof. Despite my suspicions, feeling somewhat powerless but determined not to be victimized again, I resolved to take preventive measures.