Sophie had decided to celebrate her milestone birthday at their place and demanded they clear the flat.
“Katie, has Thomas mentioned it yet?” began the mother-in-law. “Listen! Therell be twenty guests. Well start prepping in the evening. Ill come earlyaround six.”
“Evening?” Katie replied skeptically. “No, I never agreed to that.”
“Hold on, I havent finished. Thomas already has the shopping list. He promised to get everything.”
Thomas had always helped his older sister, Scarlett. By thirty, shed married twice and divorced twiceeach time, naturally, the mans fault. “Just not the right one,” shed sigh. Their mother, Margaret, had drilled into him since childhood:
“You must help your sister.”
And so he did. With money when Scarlett was “temporarily” jobless, with repairs in her rented flat, with hauling her belongings after yet another split.
Then he married.
At first, Katie endured it. But when Scarlett begged for their car “just for a few days” for the fifth time that yearhers had “broken down again”Katie spoke softly but firmly:
“Thomas, enough. We need the car this weekend. I thought we had plans.”
“Whats so urgent? Cant you walk?”
“No. My parents cottage isnt walkable. Theyve picked two buckets of cucumbers for us. I thought you heard me mention it.”
“Oh vaguely. But you understandScarletts in a bind.”
“Again? What kind?”
“Not sure,” Thomas mumbled, “but she needs it more.”
“No, Thomas. Not this time. Either you say no, or buy me my own car. Im sick of taking the bus while my husband chauffeurs everyone else.”
For the first time, Thomas hesitated. He was about to call Scarlett and refuse, but Margaret swiftly set things straight:
“Youd abandon your sister for your wife? Shes alone! Who else will help her?”
And so he did, despite the rows. Once, they didnt speak for days until Thomas snapped:
“Why the silence? Sulking, are you?”
“Took you three days to notice?” Katie scoffed.
“I dont get itwhats the issue?”
Katie laughed bitterly.
“Seriously? Your sister stole our entire weekend because she needed a lift to her friends cottage. I thought youd just drop her off. Instead, you stayed two days. Nothing about that bothers you?”
“What should? We had a few drinks. Her ex was therewe got on fine. Had to celebrate. Should I have left like a prude? Rude, thatd be.”
“You couldve called.”
“So could you,” Thomas shot back.
“I did! Your phone was off. Imagine that. Im frantic, no idea where my husband is, and hes just taking a break from me.”
“Stop dramatising,” he waved her off as his phone rang.
Thomas stepped onto the balcony before answering. He knew Katie wouldnt appreciate another sisterly chat.
“Hiya, little brother!” Scarlett trilled. “My big thirtys in two weeks! You get it, yeah?”
Thomas nodded at Katie, who was ladling soup.
“So what do you want?”
“You read my mind!” Scarlett giggled. “I want to celebrate at yours! Your lounge is huge. My rented place is cramped, and the landladys a nightmare. Restaurants cost a fortune.”
“Why not a café? Ill chip in.”
“Are you mad?” Scarlett gasped. “Its my thirtieth! Why waste money when youve got a flat? And youll pay anywayIm not some heiress.”
“Let me talk to Katie first. Its her home too. She might have plans.”
“Too late!” Scarlett cut in. “Ive already told everyone its at yours. Clear the flat for the day, yeah? Mums handling the food.”
Thomas sighed, rubbing his face. As he fumbled for an exit, his phone buzzed againa text from Margaret:
“Scarletts finalised the menu. Heres the list. Get the groceries. Tell Katie to help. And shed better pitch in with cooking too.”
Meanwhile, Katie, oblivious, curled up with her phone, queuing her favourite series. When Thomas shuffled in, eyes down, she knew.
“What now?” she asked calmly, pausing the show.
“Katie, love Scarletts turning thirty. Big milestone. She wants a do.”
Katie tilted her head.
“Fine. Let her celebrate. Were not stopping her.”
Thomas scratched his neck.
“Its not that. She wants it here.”
“Here? Our flat?” Katie stood.
“Just one night. Says restaurants are pricey, her place is too small”
“And you agreed?”
“I said Id check with you! But Scarletts already invited everyone. Mums planned the menu”
Katie shut her eyes, inhaling sharply.
“Thomas. Are you actually an adult? Or just Scarletts errand boy?”
“Dont start.”
“Im starting?” Katie held up her phone. “Was anyone going to ask me? This is my home, not your familys event space. Scarlett wants a party here, Im expected to cook, your mums bossing meand I wasnt even consulted?”
Her phone rang.
“Ah, the cherry on top,” she hissed. “Your mother.” Waving it at him.
“Katie, has Thomas told you?” Margaret chirped. “Right, twenty guests. Well start prepping early. Ill be round by six.”
“Evening?” Katie smiled icily. “No, I never agreed.”
“Wait! Thomas has the shopping list. Hell get everything.”
“Suppose so,” Katie muttered. “And the money? Wheres that coming from?”
“Thomas said hed help,” Margaret snapped.
“Oh, so we host, cater, and pay? Lovely.”
“Scarletts family! Cant you help for one day? Chop some salad, make sandwichesyoure the lady of the house!”
“Margaret,” Katie cut in, “I just learned about this. I never consented to hosting Scarletts birthday.”
“Stop with my flat! Youre marriedwhats yours is his!”
“Really? If this were Thomass flat, youd sing a different tune. Then Id just be the freeloader.”
“Dont be daft. Conversations over. Shopping done by Friday,” Margaret barked, hanging up.
“What was that?” Katie stared at Thomas.
“Enough victim act!” he finally exploded. “Youve been told youre wrong. Admit it and drop the drama.”
Katie froze. She walked to the wardrobe, pulled out a duffel bag, then marched to the bedroom, methodically stuffing Thomass shirts and jeans inside.
Meanwhile, Thomas, victorious, cracked open a beer, flopped onto the sofa, and turned on the football. Any minute now, Katie would call him for dinner.
Half an hour later, she stood in the hallway, the duffel at her feet, a tote in hand. Thomas wandered out for another beer and froze.
“Whats this? Some performance?”
Katie met his gaze, cold.
“No performance. Its over. Im done being a shadow in my own life, a servant in my own home, a backdrop for your familys whims. Be the perfect son and brothergo back to your mum. Prep for the party. Im sure shell lend you her sofa.”
“Youre joking.” He stepped closer. “Im not leaving.”
“Dead serious. I dont want you back. Ive tolerated too much already. If three years havent taught you respect, nothing will.”
“Katie you cant just wreck everything!”
“Cant wreck whats already broken.”
Thomas huffed, still not grasping her resolve.
“Your shirts and jeans are here. No need to thank me. Leave. Now.”
He opened his mouth, but Katie swung the door wide. Thomas stood rigid, cheeks flushed, lips tight. He willed her to cave, but her calm enraged him further.
“Fine! Good luck finding better!” he spat, snatching the bag. “Youll come crawling back when no one else wants you!”
“If no one means a woman with her own flat, job, and no in-laws to serve, Ill take it.”
Thomas left. Katie exhaled, watching through the window as he kicked the duffel into a taxis boot.
Months passed.
The divorce was ugly. Thomas painted Katie as greedy. The fight centred on the car bought during marriagehe insisted hed paid solo; shed just ridden along.
“Your Honour, I funded it entirely! Its in my name!” he declared. “My wife didnt
