“Listen carefully,” continued the housemate. “Either your daughter hands over the car, or she moves out! I wont live in a house where Im not respected!”
“And where is she supposed to go?”
“Not your problem! Shes grown. Time to stand on her own two feet”
Kiera stood in the hallway of her parents house, listening as her mother explained through the bathroom door why she had to give up her car.
“Kiera, use your head! Andrew needs it for work every day. Youre just a student. Cant you manage with the bus?”
The girl leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. The car had been a gift from her grandfather for her twentieth birthdayold but hers. The first shed ever owned. Hed said, “So you dont depend on anyone. So you decide where to go.”
“Mum, the cars in my name,” Kiera replied calmly.
“So what? Were family!” Her mothers voice rose. “Andrews like a father to you. Remember how he helped you with maths in Year 11?”
Kiera remembered. She remembered him shouting over every mistake, slamming the textbook down when she didnt understand immediately.
“Thick as a plank! Takes after your mother!” hed snapped.
The hum of a hairdryer came from the bathroomher mother was clearly getting ready to go out. In five minutes, shed emerge, and the conversation would continue. Kiera didnt want that.
“Ill think about it,” she lied, retreating to her room.
But there was nothing to think about. She wouldnt give up the car. What to do next, thoughthat was unclear.
Kiera was in her final year at university, tutoring English on the side. Money was tight, but she got by.
If you ignored that her “life” unfolded in a house where every move was scrutinised and criticised.
Andrew had entered their lives when Kiera was eleven. Her mother met him at worktall, bearded, always so confident and talkative.
Mum loved that. Dad had been differentquiet, thoughtful. After the divorce, he moved to London, calling rarely.
At first, Andrew tried. Brought sweets, asked about school, even took her to the cinema a few times. Kiera thought, “Maybe hes not so bad.” But it didnt last.
Once Andrew settled into the house, everything changed. He started ordering her around. Not asking, not suggestingcommanding. As if Kiera were a servant, not the homeowners daughter.
“Make tea. Clean up after yourself. Dont stomp. Dont slam doors. Turn the telly down.” The list grew daily.
And Mum? She became Andrews advocate. Every complaint of his, she echoed and amplified.
“Kiera, Andrews tired from work. Cant you walk quieter?”
“Kiera, hes right. Why play music so loud?”
“Kiera, think of others.”
“Others” meant Andrew. When Kiera begged for quiet during exams, no one cared.
“Were not in a library,” Andrew said. “Want silence? Stay in your room.”
Kieras room was tinya former storage space with just a bed and desk. The walls pressed in, the air felt thin. But there was no alternative.
Eventually, Kiera learned to be invisible. Came home when Andrew was asleep or out. Ate in the kitchen when it was empty. Avoided family conversations.
It workeduntil the car became an issue.
The next morning, her mother knocked.
“Kiera, are you awake? We need to talk.”
Kiera sat up. Her mother wore a new dress, clearly expensive, hair neatly styled. She was going somewhere.
“Go on.”
“Andrew was upset last night. He thought youd agree about the car.”
“Why would he think that?”
Her mother sat on the bed, gazing out the window.
“Kiera, you know Andrew and I are planning a wedding. We want it nice, with guests. Moneys tight.”
Kiera stayed silent.
“Andrew needs the car for work. Hes got a new role, lots of travel. Buses wont do.”
“Let him buy his own.”
“With what?” Her mothers voice sharpened, then softened. “Kiera, were family! Andrews done so much for you”
“What exactly has he done?”
Her mother hesitated.
“Well he raised you. Helped with homework”
“You mean shouted at me.”
“Dont be ungrateful!” Her mother stood. “He tried! Your father spoiled youthats the problem.”
The room fell silent. Kiera barely recognised her. Once, Mum had defended hernot some stranger.
“Im not giving up the car,” Kiera said.
“Then find somewhere else to live,” her mother replied coldly, walking out.
Alone, Kieras chest tightened. Shed never imagined it would come to this.
That evening, Andrew returned, and the drama began. Through the thin wall, Kiera heard it all.
“Well? Did you talk to her?” Andrew asked.
“I did. She refused.”
“Right. Shouldve been stricter. Too much coddling.”
“Andrew, shes young. She doesnt understand.”
“When will she? When shes a mother herself? No, Lorraine. If we dont put her in her place now, shell walk all over us.”
Her mother murmured something Kiera couldnt catch.
“Listen carefully,” Andrew pressed. “Either she hands over the car, or shes out. I wont live where Im disrespected!”
“And where will she go?”
“Not your concern. Shes grown. Time to stand on her own.”
Kiera lay awake until dawn, wonderingwould her mother really choose him?
The answer came two days later. Her mother entered, stern-faced.
“Kiera, Andrew and I have decided. If you wont compromise, youll live separately.”
“Youre serious?”
“Dead serious. Youre an adult. You work. Rent a place.”
Kiera studied her mother.
“Fine. Ill leave.”
Her mother expected tears, pleasnot calm acceptance.
“Kiera maybe think again?”
“Whats to think? Youve made your choice. Now Im making mine.”
Kiera found a room within a weeka clean, spacious one near campus, cheap but decent. The landlady, a retired teacher, was kind and unobtrusive.
As Kiera packed, her mother lingered in the doorway.
“Maybe this is a mistake”
“Mum, dont. Its the right thing.”
“You know I didnt want to push you out. But Andrew”
“Andrew matters more. I get it.”
Her mother wept.
“Dont say that. Youre my daughter.”
“Was,” Kiera said quietly, stacking books into a box.
The first weeks were hardnot the chores, but the realisation that her mother had chosen a stranger over her.
Yet life settled. More tutoring clients meant enough for rent, food, even small joys.
She ate when she wanted. Played music. Had friends over. No orders, no criticism, no scenes.
Her mother rarely calledmostly on holidays.
“How are you, Kiera? All right?”
“All right.”
“Maybe visit sometime?”
“Well see.”
But Kiera never did. Her mother understood.
Six months passed. Kiera had adjusted when her mother called late one evening, voice strained.
“Kiera, can I come over? We need to talk.”
“Of course.”
Her mother arrived an hour later, gaunt, dark-eyed. She sat silently at the table.
“What happened?” Kiera asked.
“Andrew left.”
“What?”
“For another woman. Someone from work. Ten years younger.”
Kiera poured tea.
“When?”
“Two weeks ago. I thought hed come back. Yesterday, he collected his things and filed for divorce.”
Her mother criedquietly, exhaustedly.
“Was I a fool?”
Kiera said nothing. What was there to say?
They drank in silence. Then her mother asked,
“Can I stay tonight? I cant face home. Too many memories.”
“Of course. Take the sofa.”
That night, Kiera heard her mother weeping. She wanted to comfort herbut something held her back. Too much hurt.
Over breakfast, her mother said,
“Kiera, I know I was wrong. I chose him over you. Im sorry.”
“Mum”
“No, let me say it. I thought I needed a manno matter the cost. Even if it cost us. I thought I was nothing alone. Now I seebetter alone than with someone who poisons your life.”
Kiera nodded.
“Will you come home?” her mother asked softly.
“No. Im settled here. And Im not the same person.”
“Different how?”
“Independent
