I’m feeling uncomfortable with my husband’s cousin staying at our place—there’s something about him that just doesn’t sit right. The moment he walked in, I felt the energy shift. He has this odd way of observing his surroundings, his eyes always lingering a moment too long, his silence heavy and unsettling. I tell myself it’s just his personality, that maybe he’s shy or reserved, but each day he stays here, my unease only grows.

In the beginning, I tried to overlook it. After all, he’s family, and it’s only temporary. But there are these little moments that make my skin crawl. When I walk into a room, he’ll pause whatever he’s doing and watch me, his eyes following me silently. Sometimes, I catch him standing in doorways, as though he’s listening to what’s going on in other rooms, his gaze distant yet oddly attentive. I can’t quite explain it, but it feels invasive, like I can’t fully relax in my own space.

I’ve brought it up to my husband a couple of times, mentioning how I feel “off” when his cousin is around, but he just laughs it off, saying I’m being paranoid. “He’s harmless,” he insists. “You’re just imagining things.” But it doesn’t feel like my imagination. My instincts are on high alert, and each interaction only reinforces that nagging feeling that something isn’t quite right.

It’s gotten to the point where I plan my movements around the house, making sure I’m never alone with him. I close doors that I normally leave open, I stick to certain rooms, and I keep a mental clock of when he’s around and when he isn’t. I know it sounds drastic, but I need some sense of control in my own home. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s a hidden layer to his presence, something more than just “quirky” behavior. I’m counting the days until he leaves, hoping that by then, I’ll finally feel safe and at peace in my own home again.