**Diary Entry**
“Blimey, who are you?” came a deep voice from the bedroom as Emily pushed open the door to her flat.
“Actually, that’s *my* question,” she shot back. “What are you doing in my bedroom?”
A blonde woman in a silk dressing gown appeared, smirking.
“Ohhh, so *you’re* Emily!” she drawled. “Tommy’s told me all about you. I’m Sophie—his sister.”
Exhausted from work, Emily had dreamed only of a hot bath. Instead, she came home to an unwelcome sister-in-law.
“Thomas is my *fiancé*, not my husband,” Emily corrected. “And I don’t recall agreeing to your visit.”
A sheepish young man peeked over Sophie’s shoulder.
“Daniel and I are on holiday,” she cut in. “Tom said we could stay here for the week.”
Emily walked into the kitchen—chaos. Dirty plates, empty takeaway boxes.
“Funny, Thomas didn’t mention guests this morning.”
“Oh, don’t be so uptight!” Sophie grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge. “Tom gave me the keys ages ago. I assumed you’d talked about it—if not, no big deal.”
“We *didn’t* talk about it. And why are you in *our* bedroom instead of the guest room?”
Sophie shrugged. “The guest room’s tiny, and yours has a king-size bed. Tom said you’d manage on the sofa bed for a few nights.”
A memory flickered—meeting Thomas’s family, his mother and sister sneering at her.
“Sorry to disappoint, but this is *my* flat, *my* bedroom, *my* bed,” Emily said firmly. “Thomas lives here by *my* invitation.”
“Right, so the rumors are true,” Sophie laughed. “Mum said you’ve got him in a chokehold.”
“Listen, I’m tired. You can stay in the guest room—*tonight*. My bedroom is off-limits.”
“We’ll wait for Tom. I’m sure he’ll explain how rude you’re being,” Sophie scoffed.
When Thomas arrived, Sophie pounced.
“Tommy! Your fiancée’s trying to kick us out of the bedroom!”
“Em, what’s going on?” he asked, bewildered.
“Why did you give your sister keys to *my* flat?”
“*Our* flat, Emily. I live here, remember?”
“I do. By *my* invitation. That doesn’t mean you hand out keys without asking.”
On the balcony, Thomas sighed.
“What’s got into you? She’s my sister. I promised they could stay.”
“And that means taking *our* bed?”
“What’s the big deal? We’ll manage in the guest room.”
“The big deal is you gave strangers access to *my* home without telling me.”
“Daniel’s not a stranger! He’s Sophie’s boyfriend.”
“I’ve *never* met him! I barely know your sister.”
“So you’ve decided to hate my family?”
Inside, Sophie whined into her phone: “This jumped-up cow’s trying to chuck us out! Tom’s putting her in her place.”
“Em, be reasonable,” Thomas said. “It’s just a week. If we’re getting married, you’ll have to compromise.”
He walked back inside, leaving her alone. She watched him laugh with Sophie—ignoring her completely.
Something inside Emily snapped. Two years of love, support, compromises—gone.
“Get out of my flat,” she said, quiet but firm.
All three gaped.
“*What*?” Thomas stammered.
“I said *get out*. All of you.”
“Tom, control your nutter,” Sophie sneered.
Emily stormed into the bedroom, grabbed Sophie’s suitcase, and dragged it to the door, tossing clothes, makeup, shoes onto the landing.
“Are you *mad*?!” Sophie shrieked.
Emily shoved the suitcase out, slamming the door behind it.
“You’ve lost it!” Thomas shouted. “Stop this!”
“No, *you* lost it the moment you let your sister disrespect me in *my* home.” She turned to him. “Your turn.”
“Em, please—”
“Nothing to discuss. Your sister matters. I don’t.”
She marched back, bundling his clothes—shirts, trousers, watch—onto the landing.
“You’re *insane*!” Sophie screeched, scrambling for her things.
“You can’t just throw me out,” Thomas finally said, stunned. “We were getting *married*.”
“Thank God we didn’t. I deserve a man, not a spineless coward. You can go live with your sister.”
The door slammed.
Half an hour later, the shouting stopped. Emily ordered dinner from her favourite restaurant. When the delivery arrived, Thomas and Sophie lurked on the landing, glaring. She took her food, thanked the driver, and shut the door—without a glance.
Setting the table, she put on a film. Sipping wine, she realised—she wasn’t sad. She was *free*.
*How odd*, she thought. *To lose a man and find yourself in the same day.*
Smiling at her reflection, she raised her glass. “To me.”
**Lesson learned:** Love without respect is just infatuation. And no one is worth losing yourself over.
