The flat is minebought before we married! I say sharply as my husband confidently gives orders about my home.
Emily sets her tea on the windowsill, staring thoughtfully outside. She spent ten years saving for this place, working two jobs, denying herself every little luxury. Every pound she scraped together. And now…
“Em, love, I thought wed shift the furniture around,” her mother-in-law announces from the living room. “That sofa is blocking the energy flow.”
Emily sighs. Margaret had let herself in again without warning, using the key shed had copied”just in case,” shed said.
“Theres no need,” Emily steps in. “I like it as it is.”
“How can you?” Margaret throws her hands up. “Its all wrong according to Feng Shui! I saw a programme about it last night”
“Margaret, I really dont want it moved.”
“James!” his mother raises her voice as he walks in. “Tell your wife that family should listen to their elders!”
James hesitates, glancing between them.
“Mum, maybe not now?”
“When, then? Your father and I arent getting any younger. Soon well need looking after. And youve got so much room here…”
Emily clenches her jaw. There it iswhat shed feared since the wedding. Margaret was easing her way in, piece by piece.
“You have a lovely three-bed house,” Emily reminds her.
“Lovely?” Margaret scoffs. “Up three flights of stairs with no lift! At our age, thats a nightmare. Yours is ground-floor, shops nearby…”
“Mum, well talk about this later,” James cuts in.
“Whats there to discuss? Family sticks together. Your sister took your aunt in straight away”
“Sarahs husband bought their house,” Emily snaps. “I paid for this flat myself. Before we married.”
“Oh, here we go!” Margaret huffs. “Mine, yoursin a family, everythings shared!”
“Emilys right,” James says, unexpectedly firm. “This is her flat.”
“Son, how can you say that?” Margaret clutches her chest dramatically. “After all Ive done for you…”
“Mum, please. Lets go.” James guides her out.
Once the door shuts, Emily slumps into the armchair. Three years married, and these conversations never end. First hints, then “suggestions,” now outright demands…
“Sorry about Mum,” James sits beside her. “She just worries.”
“About us?” Emily laughs dryly. “She just wants control.”
“Dont be dramatic”
“Dramatic? She walks in unannounced, rearranges things, criticises everythingnow she wants to move in!”
“They *are* getting older,” James sighs. “Maybe we should consider it? Theyre my parents…”
Emily jumps up.
“Are you serious? You want them *living* here?”
“Not immediately, but eventually…”
“James, this flat is the one thing I earned alone. Ten years of savingdo you get that? Its *my* space”
“*Ours*,” he corrects gently. “Were married.”
Emily freezes. A cold thought hits her: *You too? You think its yours now?*
“Actually,” James adds casually, “since were talking… I spoke to an estate agent.”
“What agent?” Her voice tightens.
“Mum recommended him. He said if we sell this flat”
“*Sell my flat?*”
“*Ours.* If we sell ours and my parents, we could get a house in the countryside. Space for everyone, fresher air…”
Emily stares, stunned. Had they planned this behind her back?
“Do you hear yourself?” Her voice shakes. “What house? What sale?”
“Love, it makes sense,” he says, using that placating tone he reserves for his mother. “Why keep a city flat when”
The doorbell rings. A man in a suit stands there.
“Evening. From Chesterton Estates. Ive an appointment with Mr. Dawson?”
“Perfect timing,” Emily says, swinging the door open.
James pales.
“Em, wait”
“No, *you* wait.” She turns to the agent. “You do know this flat is solely in my name? Bought pre-marriage?”
The agent glances at James, confused.
“But your husband said”
“My husband says a lot of things.” She pulls out a folder. “Land registry. Marriage certificate. See the dates?”
“Right. Then the sale cant proceed without your consent.”
“Exactly. And Im not giving it.”
“Emily, we agreed!” Margaret cuts in.
“*You* agreed. Behind my back.”
The agent leaves, promising to refund Jamess deposit. Emily packs Jamess things into a suitcase.
“You cant do this!” Margaret wails. “Were *family*!”
“*Were*,” Emily zips the bag. “Until you tried to run my life.”
James grabs her wrist.
“Lets talk!”
“About what? The loan you took against *my* flat?”
His face falls.
“How did?”
Her phone pingsa bank alert. *Your property has been pledged for a £150,000 loan. Confirm application with original documents.*
Her vision swims.
“When did you do this?” She shoves the screen in his face.
“I… we needed the deposit fast. I thought youd agree”
“Forged my signature?”
“It was urgent!” Margaret snaps. “You overcomplicate everything”
“*Im* complicating things?” Emilys voice rises. “You commit fraud, and *Im* the problem?”
“Sweetheart”
“Dont. Get out. Both of you.”
“Youll regret this!” Margaret shrieks.
Emily feels lighter as they leave. Like shedding a weight shes carried for years. James callsshe blocks him.
At her best friends, she spills everything: the boundary-pushing, Jamess spinelessness, the loan.
“Police?” her friend asks.
“First thing tomorrow.”
Her phone buzzesMargaret: *Youll never be forgiven!* James: *Ill fix this. Come home.*
Emily smirks. *Home*? Where shes ignored, steamrolled, robbed? Never.
The bank halts the loan; the police investigate the forgery. James begs her to drop it. She refuses.
“You know,” she tells her friend, “I almost caved when he said family.”
“And now?”
“Now I knowfamily respects boundaries. Doesnt steal from you.”
Back home, she changes the locks, bins Margarets knick-knacks, rearranges the furniture. *Hers* again.
Next day, court papers arriveJames claims half the flat. She laughs. Let him try. The deeds are clear. But hell explain the forgery to a judge…
Another text: *Come to your senses! You cant treat family this way!* Emily deletes it. In her new life, theres no room for people who dont respect boundaries.
