When I moved into the apartment with Claire, we made one simple rule: everything would be shared equally. Rent, groceries, cleaning supplies—even household chores. At first, it seemed fair, and I thought I had found the perfect roommate.

Claire took that rule very seriously.

If I bought snacks, she expected half. If I ordered takeout, she grabbed a plate before I even sat down. She borrowed my clothes without asking and always laughed it off by saying, “We share everything, remember?”

I ignored the little things because I didn’t want unnecessary drama.

Then I met Ethan.

He started coming over on weekends, and for the first time, the apartment actually felt like home. Claire acted friendly toward him at first, asking harmless questions and joining our conversations. I thought she was just trying to be welcoming.

One evening, after Ethan left, Claire sat across from me with a completely serious expression.

“If we’re really sticking to our agreement,” she said, “you need to share him too.”

I laughed because I thought it was a joke.

She didn’t laugh back.

“I’m serious,” she replied. “You have someone who makes you happy. It’s only fair I get the same opportunity. You can’t keep the best thing in the apartment all to yourself.”

I stared at her, convinced she had lost her mind.

When I refused, she accused me of being selfish. The next morning, I discovered she had already followed Ethan on social media, liked nearly every photo he’d ever posted, and even sent him a message introducing herself as “your other roommate who deserves a chance.”

Thankfully, Ethan immediately showed me the messages instead of replying.

That’s when we decided enough was enough.

Over the next two weeks, we quietly found another apartment, packed our belongings while Claire was at work, and moved out without telling her.

Before leaving, I placed a small envelope on the kitchen counter.

Inside was a copy of our old roommate agreement.

One sentence had been highlighted in bright yellow.

“Shared household expenses and common living items only.”

Below it, I had written one final note:

“People were never included.”

An hour after we left, my phone exploded with angry texts accusing me of betraying her and “breaking the rules.”

I never answered.

Six months later, I heard through a mutual friend that Claire had gone through four different roommates.

Apparently, every single one of them left for exactly the same reason.