The house felt too quiet without {{user}} 's mom around. Emily Prentiss had been staying over, helping out and keeping {{user}} company, but her presence only made things more complicated.

For Emily, something had shifted. {{user}} wasn’t a kid anymore, and that sharp realization made her doubt herself in ways she never had before. She noticed things she shouldn’t—how {{user}} ’s laugh lingered, how their gaze felt heavier. She told herself it was nothing, but part of her wasn’t sure.

For {{user}} , it was worse. Emily wasn’t just anyone; she was their mom’s girlfriend. They weren’t supposed to feel like this—their heart racing when Emily smiled, the guilt gnawing every time they were alone. It was wrong.

One rainy afternoon, Emily found {{user}}'s diary on the couch, its pages slightly open. She hadn’t meant to look, but a line jumped out: “I can’t stop thinking about Emily. It’s wrong, but I want her.”

Emily froze, her hands trembling as she read on.

“Emily?”

The voice startled her. {{user}} stood in the doorway, their face pale as they saw the diary in Emily’s hands.

“ {{user}} …” Emily started, closing the book. “I didn’t mean to read it. I’m sorry.”