One weekend, Emily decided to drive out to her countryside cottage to check on the plot after the winter. It was a crisp, sunny October Saturday, though the air carried a chilly bite. She woke up early, sipped her coffee, packed a bag with tools and a thermos of tea, and set off. The plot was about twenty-five miles from the city, in a village called Willowbrook. Emily had bought the land five years ago, before she got married, using the savings shed earned as a software developer. Back then, prices were reasonable, and shed managed to get half an acre with a small garden shed. The land was in her name, all the paperwork safely stored away.
Over those five years, Emily had transformed the placeplanted apple and cherry trees, started a vegetable patch, fixed the fence, and given the shed a fresh coat of paint. In the summer, she visited every weekend, digging in the soil, unwinding from the city chaos. Her husband, James, rarely joined her. He said he hated gardening, complained about the bugs and the boredom. He preferred staying in town, meeting up with mates, watching football. Emily didnt push it. The plot was her own little sanctuary, a place where she could be alone with her thoughts.
The last time shed been there was late August. Then work had taken overproject after project, no time to breathe. But now, in October, she finally had a free day. She wanted to check everythingmake sure the windows were sealed, the roof wasnt leaking, no stray animals had gotten in. The fallen leaves needed raking, too, before winter settled in.
She climbed into her car, turned on the radio, and hit the motorway. The drive took just under an hour. Outside, fields and woodlands whisked by, villages with crooked fences lining the roads. Autumn had painted the trees in gold and rust, leaves carpeting the roadside. Emily loved this time of yearthe crisp air, the quiet, the scent of woodsmoke in the distance.
As she pulled up to the gate, she spotted a strange car parked nearbya grey SUV, right by the entrance to her land. Emily frowned. Who on earth was that? The neighbours drove old hatchbacks, and a flashy car like that definitely wasnt local. She slowed to a stop, stepped out, and walked closer.
Through the iron gate, she saw James and his mother, Margaret, showing a stranger around the garden. Emily froze. What were they doing here? James had told her that morning he was helping a mate with some DIY. And Margaret had *never* visited the cottagealways complaining about her health, her blood pressure, her aching joints. Yet here they both were, strolling around her property with some bloke in a suit.
Emily watched. James was gesturing toward the far corner where the old apple trees stood. Margaret was nodding, talking animatedly, hands waving. The stranger was jotting notes in a pad, glancing around, sizing up the land, the fence, the shed.
Margaret was in full sales mode:
*”You could build a proper house hereplenty of space, great location. Quiet neighbours, woodland nearby, a river just a mile off. Electricitys already hooked up, fresh well water, no hassle. The lands level, too, so no foundation issues.”*
Emilys stomach dropped. Her mother-in-law was marketing the plot like an estate agent, raving about land that wasnt hers, land shed never set foot on before today.
James chimed in: *”Yeah, paperworks straightforward, quick sale, no complications. Price is negotiable, but fair.”*
Emily clenched her fists. Blood roared in her ears. They were trying to sell her landbehind her back, without her knowledge, her *consent*. Just marching some buyer in like they owned the place.
Six months ago, James had asked if shed ever consider selling. Said they could get a decent price, upgrade from their cramped one-bed flat to something bigger. Shed refused. The plot meant too much to her. Hed shrugged*”Alright, your call.”*and dropped it. Shed thought that was the end of it. Turned out, hed just gone behind her back instead.
Emily shoved the gate open with a loud metallic *clang*. All three spun around. James went pale. Margarets mouth fell open. The stranger raised his eyebrows.
Stepping onto the land, Emily shut the gate behind her and walked forward, eyes locked on them.
*”This plot is in my name. There will be no sale.”*
Her voice was ice. The stranger stammered, *”Ahapologies, I was misled.”* He hurried past her without another word, the SUV kicking up dust as he sped off.
Emily turned to James and Margaret. They stood like statues. James stared at his shoes. Margaret fiddled nervously with her scarf.
*”Explain,”* Emily demanded.
James lifted his head. *”Em, its not what you think.”*
*”Then what is it?”*
*”I was justshowing the place to a mate. He was curious about country plots, and I thought”*
*”You thought you could sell my land without asking me?”*
*”No! I wasnt selling! Just showing!”*
She folded her arms. *”Showing. While talking about paperwork and prices. Did I hear wrong?”*
James floundered. *”That was justyou know, to make it sound legit. Get him interested.”*
*”Interested in buying something that wasnt yours to sell?”*
*”Em, come on, its not like that! Were married!”*
*”The lands in my name. Bought before we married. Its mine, and you have no right to it.”*
Margaret cut in: *”Emily, love, youre not seeing the bigger picture. This place just sits here! You barely visit! Why keep it? Sell it, put the money toward something useful.”*
Emily turned on her. *”Margaret, its none of your business. My land, my choice.”*
*”But James is your husband! His opinion matters!”*
*”It did. I said no six months ago. He agreed. Or didnt he?”*
Silence. Margaret pressed on: *”You *need* the money, love. That shoebox flats no place to start a family!”*
Emily shook her head. *”Im not selling my land for a flat.”*
*”Why not?!”* Margaret snapped. *”Its the logical thing!”*
*”Logical for you. Not for me.”*
*”Youre selfish!”* Margaret spat. *”Only thinking of yourself!”*
Emily almost laughed. *”Selfish? For not handing over whats mine?”*
*”You dont care about your husbands future!”*
*”I do. But the future isnt built on lies.”*
James tried to step in: *”Em, lets calm down. Yeah, I shouldve told you. But it was a good dealbloke was offering over market value!”*
*”So you thought you could decide for me?”*
*”I wanted to check his interest firstdidnt want to bother you for nothing.”*
*”Bother me? You brought a buyer here, James. Discussed terms. Thats not checking interestthats a deal.”*
Margaret scoffed. *”Oh, what now? Youll sulk? James was trying to help!”*
Emily pointed to the gate. *”Leave. Both of you.”*
Margaret gasped. *”Youre throwing us out?!”*
*”Off my land? Yes.”*
James grabbed his mums arm. *”Mum, lets go.”*
Margaret huffed but stormed off. James lingered, voice low. *”Well talk later.”*
*”Well see,”* Emily said.
The car rumbled away. Silence returned, just the wind rustling leaves.
Emily stood there, heart pounding. The shed, the trees, the fenceall hers. Bought with her money, tended with her hands. And James had acted like he could just hand it over. Like she was an obstacle to work around.
She walked into the shed, breathing in the scent of wood and dried herbs hanging from the beams. Pouring tea, she sat by the window, staring at the garden.
Three years ago, shed met James at a friends party. Charming, funny, always cracking jokes. Back then, shed just bought the plot, buzzing with plans. Hed listened, nodded, said he loved the countryside too. Shed believed him. Six months later, they married.
But James wanted everything *now*pushed for a mortgage, a bigger flat. She refused, hated debt. Hed bring up selling the plot, nudging harder each time. And now this.
Finishing her tea, she grabbed the rake. Work helped. The scrape of metal on earth, the crackle of burning leaves. By dusk, the plot was winter-ready.
Driving back, she knew one thing for certain
