«Your mother doesnt live here anymore,» said James as he met me at the door with my suitcase.
Emily froze on the threshold, gripping the handle of her luggage. A draft swept through the hallwaythe front door was wide open, and the light was on in the room where her mum usually slept.
«What do you mean, she doesnt live here?» Emilys voice wavered. «I was only away for three days. Where could she have gone?»
James shrugged and stepped aside, letting his wife into the flat. He was oddly calm, almost indifferent.
«I took her to Aunt Margarets. She agreed to look after your mum for a while.»
«A while?» Emily kicked off her heels. «What kind of while? And why did you decide this without me?»
«Because I cant do it anymore,» James said, looking her straight in the eye. «I cant, and I wont. Three years weve been living like this, Em. Three years. Ive had enough.»
Emily walked into the kitchen, dropped her bag on the table. Her hands shookfrom exhaustion, from shock, from the anger boiling inside. She opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and took a few gulps.
«Let me get this straight,» she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. «You kicked my mum out while I was gone?»
«I didnt kick her out. I moved her. With all her things, with respect,» James replied. He leaned against the doorframe. «And you know it was the right decision. Shes your mother, but our marriage matters more.»
Emily shook her head. It was astonishing how quickly someone could turn everything upside down. That morning, shed left for her business trip certain everything at home would be the same. Now shed returned to a different reality.
«I need to talk to Mum,» Emily said, pulling out her phone.
«Its late,» James countered. «Almost eleven. Call her tomorrow.»
«Im going to Aunt Margarets now.»
«No, youre not,» James said firmly. «You just got off the train, youre exhausted. Well sleep, and tomorrow well talk.»
Emily dialled her mothers number, but the phone was switched off. She tried Aunt Margaretno answer. James watched in silence as she gave up, tossing her phone onto the table.
«What did you say to her?» Emily demanded.
«The truth. That we cant live like this anymore. That our marriage is falling apart. That one of us had to leaveher or me.»
«You gave her an ultimatum?»
«Shouldnt I have?» James ran a hand through his hair. «Em, weve talked about this a hundred times. I cant keep living like this. I want us to be a family againjust you and me. Without the constant rows and resentment.»
Emily sank into a chair, covering her face. Yes, they had talked about it. But she never thought hed go this far. Shed assumed things would somehow work themselves out.
«How did she take it?» she asked quietly.
«Better than I expected. Said shed seen it coming. Packed her things in an hour. Didnt even cry.»
Emily smiled bitterly. That sounded like her mumproud, unyielding, a woman whod spent her life coping alone. She wouldnt make a scene, even if her heart was breaking.
«I need to see her,» Emily said.
«Tomorrow,» James repeated. «Right nowshower and bed. Youre dead on your feet.»
Emily obeyed. Under the hot water, she tried to make sense of it all. Her mum had moved in after her stroke. The doctors said she needed constant care. Leaving her alone was unthinkable. So Emily had brought her home without hesitationbecause it was the right thing to do.
James hadnt objected at first. Family duty was sacred. But months passed, and Margarets health improved slowly. She grew irritable, critical. Shed go silent for days, then lash out with accusations. James bore the brunt of it.
«Not a real man,» shed mutter when he left for work. «Cant even fix a shelf, cant earn decent money. Youll ruin yourself with him.»
Emily defended him as best she could. She explained that times had changed, that James was a software engineer, that they had a good lifea flat, a car, holidays every year.
«Your father would never have stood for this,» her mum would snap. «A real man can do anything.»
James tried to ignore it, but the tension grew. He stayed late at work, avoided meals together. If he was home, he shut himself in the bedroomto work or just hide.
Theyd stopped talkingreally talking. Just logisticsshopping, dry cleaning. Their marriage, once warm and close, had become a shared tenancy.
And nowthis. James had made the decision while she was away. Her mum was gone. The choice had been made without her.
Emily slipped into bed. James pretended to read, but his eyes were fixed on the page.
«I get it,» she said. «But you shouldnt have done it behind my back.»
«I waited three years for you to decide,» James said, setting the book aside. «Three years of suggesting optionsa carer, a nice retirement home. We can afford proper care. But you wouldnt listen.»
«Because shes my mum,» Emily shot back. «She raised me alone. Worked two jobs so I could go to a good school, take dance lessons, learn French. I cant just hand her over to strangers!»
«And what am I?» James asked quietly. «A stranger to you too?»
Emily didnt answer. The room was silent except for the ticking clock. James turned off the lamp, his back to her. Emily stared at the ceiling, her heart pounding.
The morning began with a call. Aunt Margaret assured her everything was fine, her mum was settled, no need to worry.
«Dont come today,» she said. «Your mum needs time to adjust.»
Emily didnt believe it. Her mum always wanted to see herevery day, every hour. Even a trip to the shops would prompt a call: «Where are you? When will you be back?»
«Im coming anyway,» Emily said and hung up.
James drank his coffee in silence, pretending not to hear. The kitchen was oddly quietno clattering dishes, no comments about weak tea or dirty floors.
«I took today off,» James said, standing. «We need to talk. Properly.»
Emily nodded. They did need to talk. To figure out where they stood.
«Ill see Mum first,» she said. «Then well talk.»
Aunt Margaret lived across town in a crumbling five-story walk-up. As Emily climbed the worn stairs, she thought of her mum struggling with themwalking slowly now, with a cane.
The door opened to reveal Aunt Margareta stout woman with dyed-red hair, a distant cousin they rarely saw.
«Come in,» she said, stepping aside. «Your mums in the kitchen.»
Emily took off her shoes, walked down the narrow hall. The flat was old, with low ceilings and cramped rooms. The kitchen barely fit a table and two chairs.
Margaret sat by the window, spine straight. She didnt turn when Emily entered.
«Mum,» Emily said softly.
«You came, then,» Margaret replied. «Thought your husband wouldnt let you.»
«How could you think that? Of course I came.»
«And whats happened, really?» Margaret finally looked at her. Her face was calm, but her eyes were too bright. «Nothing out of the ordinary. Your husband showed whos in charge. I always said he was weak. I was wrong. Turns out hes a tyrant.»
Emily sighed. Always black or white, no in-between. How could she explain that life wasnt so simple?
«Hes not a tyrant, Mum. Hes just had enough. We all have.»
«Had enough?» Margaret scoffed. «And I havent? Being ill, depending on others, hearing how Im in the way? You think I didnt see how he looked at me? How he sighed when I walked in?»
«Mum»
«Dont pity me,» Margaret cut in. «Thats not why I raised you. You chose himlive with him. Ill manage.»
Aunt Margaret discreetly left. Emily studied her mothergrey-haired but still striking, proud as ever. Unbreakable.
«I can rent you a flat near us,» Emily offered. «Or hire a carer.»
«Dont bother,» Margaret said. «Ill stay here awhile. Then go back to my own place.»
«But the doctors said»
«Doctors say a lot of things,» Margaret snapped. «Ill exercise, watch my blood pressure. Learn to live again.»
Her voice was firm, but Emily saw her hands tremble. For the first time in years, her mum was afraidtruly alone.
«Ill visit every day,» Emily promised.
«Dont,» Margaret said. «Youve got your own life. Come on weekends.»
Emily knew that tone. Her mum wouldnt bend. Pride had always been her greatest flawand her greatest strength.
They talked an hour moreabout the flat, what shed need. Margaret refused most offers.
As Emily left, her mum suddenly grabbed her wrist.
«I wanted you to be happy,» she said softly. «Maybe your James is right. Maybe youll be better off without me.»
Emily hugged her, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender and roseshome, safety.
«I love you, Mum,» she whispered. «Ill always be here.»
Margaret nodded, pulling away. Back to her old selfstrict, composed.
«Go on,» she said. «Dont keep your husband waiting.»
Outside, Emily stood for a moment, breathing deeply. Guilt and pain twisted inside her. Logically, she knew James was right. But her heart ached at the thought of her mum feeling abandoned.
At home, James had lunch readyher favourite lasagne. They sat across from each other, like old times.
«How is she?» he asked.
«Stoic,» Emily said. «Pretending shes fine.»
James nodded. He knew his mother-in-lawiron-willed, never showing weakness.
«Em, I know youre angry,» he said. «But I didnt see another way. We were destroying each otherall three of us. Your mum was miserable with me. I was miserable with her. And you were torn between us, trying to please everyone.»
Emily stayed silent. There was truth in his wordsbitter, uncomfortable truth.
«Ive got a compromise,» James went on. «Well rent her a nice flatbright, new, with a lift. Hire a carer to cook, clean, shop. Get her a panic button in case she falls. You can visit as much as you like. But she lives separately.»
«What if she gets worse?»
«Then we rethink. Maybe a care home with medical staff. But only then.»
Emily studied himtired but resolute. Hed put up with three years of thisfor her. Three years of being disrespected in his own home. And he hadnt left.
«Okay,» she said quietly. «But you never make decisions like this without me again.»
James smiledthe first real smile in ages.
«Deal. No more decisions behind your back.»
They ate in silence, but it was a comfortable silence now. Something between them had clicked back into place.
Later, Emily called her mum with the new plan. To her surprise, Margaret agreed almost immediately.
«I pick the flat, though,» she said firmly. «And the carer. No strangers.»
«Of course, Mum,» Emily said, smiling.
That evening, they watched an old film they both loved. James held her, and she rested her head on his chest. Simple. Familiar. Long forgotten.
«You know,» James said suddenly, «I thought Id lose you. That youd choose her over me.»
Emily looked up.
«I was afraid Id come home one day and youd be gone,» she admitted. «That youd had enough and just left.»
«Never,» James pulled her close. «I promise.»
They kissed like they had years agodesperate, hungry. Then talkedreally talkedfor hours. All the hurt, the fear, the disappointments.
Sometime past midnight, Emily remembered Jamess words from the day before: «Your mother doesnt live here anymore.» At the time, theyd sounded cruel, final. An ending.
Now, she wonderedmaybe it was a beginning? A new life for all of them. One where they finally learned to respect each others boundaries. To love without smothering. To care without controlling.
Emily fell asleep curled against James, and for the first time in years, she didnt dream of storms. Just a warm sea, a sandy shore, and a vast sun on the horizonrising, not setting.
