I begrudgingly set out with my son to my mothers house. The thought of leaving makes my heart tighten, yet I pack our things and head out with Theo to my mother, ÉlodieLaurent. All because, yesterday, while I was out walking Theo, my husband Matthieu decided to be helpful by lodging his cousin Aurélie, her husband Grégoire, and their two children, Amélie and Lucas, in our bedroomwithout even asking me. He simply said, You and Theo can stay at your mothers; theres space. Im still stunned by his audacity. This is our home, our room; am I supposed to pack up so strangers can take it over? No, thats too much.
It all began when I returned from the walk with Theo. Exhausted, he was whining, and I was hoping to put him to bed before enjoying a quiet cup of tea. But stepping into the apartment, I was met with chaos. Aurélie and Grégoire had already claimed our bedroom. Their kids ran everywhere, scattering toys, while my possessionsbooks, beauty products, even my laptopwere shoved into a corner as if I didnt exist. I stood frozen, shocked: What on earth is this? Matthieu, unfazed, replied, Aurélies family needed a place. I thought you could go to your mothers. Youll be comfortable there.
I nearly choked on my anger. First, this is our house! We bought it together, picking out each piece of furniture with care. And now I have to disappear because his relatives want a taste of Paris? And why didnt he consult me? I might have agreed after a discussion, but this felt like an order. Aurélie didnt even apologize; she just smiled and said, Come on, Camille, dont worry, well stay only two short weeks! Two weeks? I dont want them touching my things even for a single day!
Grégoire remained silent as a fish, slumped on our couch, sipping coffee from my favorite mug while nodding along to Aurélies remarks. Their kids were a disaster. Sixyearold Amélie spilled juice on the carpet, and fouryearold Lucas turned my wardrobe into a hideout. I tried to remind them this isnt a hotel, but Aurélie shrugged, Oh, theyre kids, what can you do? Of course, and now Im the one cleaning up after them.
I tried to speak with Matthieu alone. I told him how hurtful his disrespect was, explaining that Theo needs stability. Taking him to my mothers, where hell sleep on a folding bed, isnt a solution. Matthieu sighed, Camille, dont dramatize. Theyre family; we have to help them. Family? What about us? I was on the brink of tears, but I clenched my jaw and packed our bags. If he thinks Ill just submit, hes wrong.
My mother, Élodie, erupted when she heard the news: Matthieu thinks hes the king of the house? Come here, dear, I have room for you and Theo. And your husband will have to answer for this! Shes ready to show up and evict those intruders. Yet I refuse to make a scene. I just want some peace to think.
While Im putting Theos toys away, he looks at me with his big eyes and asks, Mom, are we staying at grandmas for a long time? I hold him close: Not long, sweetheart. Just until dad gets it straight. Deep down, I know Ill only return when our home is truly ours again, and Matthieu will have to choosehis hospitality or his family.
