When are you two finally going to buy a flat?
Margarets voice was sharp, insistent. She sat on the sofa in the rented one-bedroom where Sophie and Tom had lived for the last three years, glaring at her daughter as if shed committed some unforgivable crime.
How much longer are you going to waste money on renting?
Sophie sighed and turned towards the window. These conversations had long since stopped being merely unpleasanttheyd become torture. Ever since Sophie had married Tom, her mother had been relentless. He wasnt good enough, he had no property, no savings, nothing to his name. Why had Sophie settled for him? And for three solid years, Margaret had hounded themwhen would they buy a place? Why were they still renting? Werent they ashamed of living like this?
Irritation bubbled under Sophies ribs, threatening to spill over.
Were looking for the right place, Mum, she said, forcing her voice to stay even. The right area, the right price, something that doesnt need a full refurb. We dont have spare cash for renovations, understand?
Margaret huffed and rolled her eyes so dramatically that Sophies fists clenched.
Of course, her mother drawled, dripping with sarcasm. If youd just found a proper man, youd be living in luxury, not scrimping for some dingy flat. Youd be looking at new builds, not second-hand leftovers.
Sophie stood abruptly, biting back the urge to shout.
Ive got things to do, Mum, she muttered, marching towards the door.
Margaret called something after her, but Sophie didnt listen. She ushered her mother out, shut the door, and leaned against it, exhaling hard. Only then did she realise how tense shed beenher shoulders ached, her jaw hurt from clenching. Lately, every conversation with her mother felt like going into battle. Defending, justifying, arguing. And all for nothing.
She walked to the kitchen, poured herself water, and sat at the table, gulping it down. Then her phone rang.
Soph! Ive found it! Toms voice was electric. The perfect flat! Youve got to come nowIll text the address. We have to move fast, understand? This is our chance!
Sophies pulse jumped. She scribbled the address, grabbed her coat, and dashed for a cab. The whole ride, she fidgeted, glancing out the window, silently willing the driver to hurry.
Tom was waiting outside the building, beaming. Come on, youve got to see it. He took her hand and led her inside.
It was a two-bed on the third floor. Small, but cosy. Freshly painted, light, with cream walls and wooden laminate flooring. The furniture stayedsofa, wardrobes, kitchen unitsall clean, well-kept.
Look, Tom guided her through each room. Bedroom here, living room there. Bright kitchen. And the best partshops, bus stops, a school nearby. All the essentials. The price is fair, too. The owners need a quick salemoving up north. Weve hit the jackpot.
Sophie wandered silently, touching walls, peeking into cupboards. Warmth spread through her chest. This was *their* flat. She could already picture mornings with tea in the kitchen, their things in their places.
Well? Tom asked, hopeful.
Lets take it, Sophie smiled, and he hugged her tight.
They sealed the deal that dayagreed terms, set a date to sign. On the way home, Tom chattered nonstop about furniture, paint colours, what theyd need to buy. Sophie stayed quiet but grinned. Inside, joy fizzed so wildly she wanted to scream, dance, laugh.
The next weeks blurredpaperwork, packing, endless errands. Tom handled most of it, and Sophie was grateful. Then, at last, moving day. Boxes unpacked, furniture arranged, first night in their own home.
Sophie stood in the living room, just looking. Tom wrapped his arms around her from behind.
Our flat, he whispered.
Our home, Sophie said, tears slipping down.
But the happiness didnt last. The very next day, the doorbell rang. Margaret stood there, scowling.
Hello, she said flatly, barging past without waiting.
She inspected every corner, lips pursed, brows furrowed. Finally, she stopped, arms crossed.
*This* is it?
Sophie froze. What do you mean?
Margaret wrinkled her nose like shed stepped into a landfill. Its tiny. Rubbish. I thought youd at least get a three-bed. This isnt even a proper two-bedmore like a glorified shoebox. Is this really how people live?
Sophies face burned. Tom appeared, clearly having heard.
Margaret, its our first place, he said gently. Well save, maybe upgrade later. For now, its enough. Were happy.
Margaret scoffed, grabbed her bag, and headed out. At the door, she turned.
This flat is just like your husband. Useless, dull, and pathetic.
The door slammed. Sophie stood frozen. Tom gave her a sad smile.
Dont worry about it, he murmured.
But she saw the hurt in his eyes.
Time passed. They settled in, made it home. Sophie filled windowsills with plants, hung pictures, added little touches of cosiness.
Then Margaret visited again. Tom vanished into the bedroom.
Every time I see this place, Margaret started, tea untouched, it depresses me. Why did you buy this dump?
Sophie clenched her mug. Its what we could afford, Mum.
Because you married Tom! Margaret snapped. Proper people buy proper homes, not rabbit hutches.
Sophie set her cup down. Something inside her cracked.
Oh, brilliant comparison! Her voice shook. Like your neighbours daughter with her three-bed new-build? The one whos filed for divorce three times? The one who hides from her husband? Who only stays for the money? Thats your idea of *better*?
Margaret opened her mouth, but Sophie wasnt done.
I *love* Tom! she shouted, standing. Id live under a bridge with him if I had to. Because he loves me. Hed never raise a hand to me. That matters more than flats or cars or money. If you cant accept that, youre not welcome here.
Margaret gaped, red-faced, then stormed out.
Silence.
Tom emerged, pulling her into a hug. Sophie sobbed into his chest.
Im sorry, she hiccuped. Sorry for her. Sorry she says those things
Shh, he murmured, kissing her hair. Its fine. Id live under a bridge with you, too.
Sophie looked up, smiling through tears.
No, they werent rich. No three-bed new-build, no flashy car. But they had each other. And that was everything.
