The son took my room
“Have you lost your mind, Daniel? That’s my room!” William Thompson stood in the doorway, keys clenched in his fist, disbelief washing over him.
“Was yours, Uncle Will,” the lad didn’t even glance up from his phone, sprawled across the sofa. “Now it’s mine. Mum said so.”
“What do you mean, ‘Mum’?” William exploded. “I’m not your uncle! And where’s my bed? Where are my things?”
Daniel shrugged, eyes still glued to the screen. “Bed’s on the balcony, stuff’s in boxes. Mum reckons there’s enough space for you out there.”
William felt the ground vanish beneath him. He’d lived in this flat for twenty years—this room was his sanctuary, his fortress. And now some eighteen-year-old upstart was treating it like his own.
“Linda!” he roared, storming toward the kitchen. “Linda, get here now!”
His wife appeared, wiping her hands on her apron. Not a trace of guilt on her face.
“What’s all the shouting about, Will?”
“What’s the shouting about?” William was trembling with rage. “Your boy’s taken my room! My things are out on the balcony! What kind of madness is this?”
“Will, calm down,” Linda said softly, though her tone was firm. “Daniel’s started university—he needs space to study. You’ll manage on the balcony. I’ve sorted it out nicely.”
“On the balcony?” William couldn’t believe his ears. “Linda, have you lost it? This is my flat! My name’s on the lease, I live here!”
“Our flat,” she corrected. “And Daniel lives here too. Permanently.”
William sank onto a chair. When he’d married Linda two years ago, she’d mentioned her son lived with his father. Daniel had visited on weekends—quiet, no trouble. William had even hoped they’d get along.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, exhaustion creeping into his voice.
“What was there to say?” Linda sat across from him. “Daniel’s grown. He needs his own room. You’ll adapt.”
“Adapt,” William repeated. “Linda, I work shifts—I need proper sleep. The balcony’s freezing in winter, boiling in summer.”
“You’ll get used to it. Danny’s a good lad—he won’t bother you.”
William studied his wife. Two years ago, she’d been his salvation. After years alone, after his first wife took their daughter to another city, Linda had been a breath of fresh air—a kind-hearted accountant with a warm smile and a talent for Sunday roasts. They’d met in the park, her feeding the pigeons, him reading the paper.
“I’ve got a son,” she’d said back then. “Lives with his dad but visits sometimes.”
“That’s fine,” William had replied. “I like kids.”
And he had. His daughter Emily was rarely in his life—his ex made sure of that. Daniel had seemed decent at first—polite, quiet.
“Listen, Linda,” William forced himself to stay calm. “Maybe we rearrange things? A pull-out sofa in the lounge for Daniel, keep my room as it is?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Daniel needs quiet for studying. You just watch telly.”
“Just watch telly?” Something inside him snapped. “Linda, I come home shattered—I need rest, not a makeshift bunk on a balcony!”
“You’re being selfish, Will. It’s always about you. I have a son—his needs come first.”
William walked to the balcony. His bed was indeed there, boxes stacked beside it. The glass panes did little to keep out the damp. He sat on the edge of the mattress, head in hands.
That evening, Daniel swaggered into the kitchen. William sipped tea at the table.
“Daniel, let’s talk man to man. Maybe we can sort this properly?”
“What’s to sort?” Daniel grabbed yogurt from the fridge. “I’ve got my room, you’ve got yours. Fair’s fair.”
“My room’s on a balcony,” William said flatly.
“So? More space for you and Mum.”
“Daniel, I get that uni’s important. But you don’t treat people like this. We could’ve discussed it.”
Daniel smirked. “What’s to discuss? You’re not family. Mum’s my mum—you’re just her husband. For now.”
“For now?” William’s grip tightened on his mug.
“You think this is forever?” Daniel shrugged. “Mum’s still got her looks. Might find someone better.”
William’s face burned, but he stayed silent. No point in a row.
“Daniel, I respect your mum. And you. But this is my flat.”
“Yeah, right,” Daniel yawned. “Not yours anymore. Mum says everything’s shared after marriage.”
“We signed the papers in my flat,” William reminded him.
“Law’s the same for everyone.”
William gave up. The boy wasn’t budging.
The next day, he tried again with Linda.
“Linda, I’m serious. The balcony’s unbearable. Can’t we find another way?”
“Will, stop whinging,” she didn’t look up from the stove. “Daniel’s a student—he needs proper space. You’re a grown man—deal with it.”
“Deal with it?” William’s control frayed. “Linda, I work nights at the power plant—one slip and people die!”
“Don’t be dramatic,” she stirred the soup. “It’s just a balcony.”
“It’s damp! It’s freezing! Why should I be exiled in my own home?”
Linda turned, eyes cold—a side of her he’d never seen.
“Because I have a son. And he matters more than your comfort.”
“Linda—”
“That’s it, Will. End of. Don’t like it? Leave.”
He stared at her. Where was the woman who’d made him shepherd’s pie, who’d rubbed his shoulders after long shifts?
One night, he snapped. Daniel’s music blared as William tried to sleep after a night shift.
“Turn it off!” he hammered on the door.
“Can’t hear you!” Daniel shouted back.
“I said turn it off! People are sleeping!”
The door flew open. Daniel grinned.
“Go sleep in the kitchen. Quieter there.”
“I can’t sleep in a kitchen!” William exploded.
“Then buy your own place,” Daniel shrugged. “This one’s taken.”
“You little—!” William lunged, but Daniel slammed the door, locking it.
“Mum!” he yelled. “Your husband’s trying to hit me!”
Linda came running.
“Will! How dare you shout at him?”
“At him? Linda, he’s eighteen—a grown man! And he’s stolen my room!”
“He’s a student!”
“He’s not studying—he’s gaming nonstop!”
“Not your concern,” she said icily. And then the final blow: “If you’re unhappy, go.”
William sat on the sofa, defeated. How had he misjudged her so badly?
The next day, he found the lock changed on his old room. Daniel smirked from inside.
“Why?” William asked Linda.
“Danny asked. Says you barge in.”
“I didn’t ‘barge’ into my own room.”
“His room now.”
William sat silently in the kitchen. Then he stood, walked to the balcony, and began packing.
“What are you doing?” Linda asked.
“Leaving.”
“Don’t be childish. It’s just a balcony.”
“I won’t sleep on a balcony in my own home,” he said quietly. “Seems it’s not mine anymore.”
“Where will you go?”
“My mum’s. She’s got space.”
“And the flat?”
“Keep it. You’ve already decided it’s yours.”
Linda said nothing. Daniel peered out.
“About time,” he said. “Always in the way.”
William looked at him, then at Linda. She turned away.
“Right,” he whispered. “Good luck, then.”
He picked up his bag. At the door, he paused.
“Linda… I did love you.”
“And I loved you,” she said, not meeting his eyes.
“Loved,” he echoed. “But he comes first.”
“He always will.”
William nodded and stepped out. The lock clicked behind him.
On the landing, he called his mother.
“Mum? Can I stay a few days?”
“Of course, love. What’s happened?”
“I’ll tell you when I get there,” he said, descending the stairs.
Inside, Daniel was already phoning friends, planning a party to celebrate his victory.
