«Your mother doesnt live here anymore,» said James, meeting Emily at the door with her suitcase in hand.
Emily froze on the threshold, gripping the handle of her bag. 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 trembled. «I was only away for three days. Where could she have gone?»
James shrugged and stepped aside to let her in. He was unusually 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 shoes. «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 eyes. «I cant, and I wont. Three years weve lived like this, Em. Three years. Ive had enough.»
Emily walked into the kitchen and dropped her bag on the table. Her hands shookfrom exhaustion, from shock, from the anger bubbling inside. She opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and took a long sip.
«So, let me get this straightyou kicked my mum out while I was gone?» she asked, fighting to keep her voice steady.
«I didnt kick her out. I moved herwith all her things, with respect,» James replied, leaning 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 change everything. That morning, shed left London sure that home would be just as she left it. Now, shed stepped into another reality.
«I need to talk to her,» Emily said, pulling out her phone.
«Its too late,» James said. «Almost eleven. Talk to her tomorrow.»
«Im going to Aunt Margarets now.»
«No, youre not,» James said firmly. «You just got back from your trip. Youre exhausted. Well sleep, and well talk in the morning.»
Emily dialled her mothers number, but it went straight to voicemail. She tried Aunt Margaretthe line rang, but no one picked up. James watched silently as she gave up and threw 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. «Emily, weve talked about this a hundred times. I cant keep living like this. I want us to be a family againjust you and me. No more arguments, no more resentment.»
Emily sank into a chair and covered her face with her hands. Yes, theyd talked about it. But she never thought hed actually go through with it. Shed convinced herself things would just work themselves out.
«How did she take it?» Emily asked without looking up.
«Better than I expected. Said she saw it coming. Packed her things in an hour. Didnt even cry.»
Emily laughed bitterly. That sounded like her mumproud, unbreakable, a woman whod spent her life standing on her own two feet. She wouldnt make a scene, even if her heart was breaking.
«I need to see her,» Emily said.
«In the morning,» James repeated. «Right nowshower, then sleep. You can barely stand.»
Emily obeyed. Under the hot water, she tried to make sense of it all. Her mother had lived with them ever since her stroke. The doctors had said she needed constant care. Leaving her alone was out of the question. So Emily had brought her home without a second thoughtbecause it was the right thing to do.
At first, James hadnt objected. A daughters duty was sacred. But months passed, and Margarets recovery was slow. She grew irritable, critical. Shed spend whole days in silence, then lash out with accusations. James bore the brunt of it.
«Not a real man, just a pushover,» shed say to Emily when James left for work. «Cant even put up a shelf, cant earn decent money. Youll end up struggling because of him.»
Emily defended James as best she could. She explained that times had changed, that James was a software engineerhe worked with his mind, not his hands. That they had moneya house, a car, holidays every year.
«Never like that in my day,» her mother would snap. «A real man should be able to do anything.»
James tried to ignore it, but the tension grew. He stayed late at work, skipped family dinners. When he was home, he shut himself in the bedroomto work or just to hide.
Their marriage, once full of warmth, had become little more than a shared tenancy.
And nowthis. James had made the decision without her while she was away. Her mother was gone. The choice had been taken from her.
Emily slipped into bed. James pretended to read, his back turned.
«I get it,» Emily 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 care home. We can afford good care for her. But you wouldnt listen.»
«Because shes my mother,» Emily shot back. «She raised me alone, worked two jobs so I could go to a good school, have dance lessons and piano. I cant just hand her off to strangers!»
«And what about me?» James asked quietly. «Where do I fit in? Am I a stranger too?»
Emily didnt answer. The room was silent except for the ticking clock. James turned off the lamp, his back still to her. Emily stared at the ceiling, her heart pounding.
Morning came with a phone call. Aunt Margaret assured her everything was fine, that Margaret was settling in nicely, not to worry.
«You dont need to come today,» she said. «Your mum says she needs time to adjust.»
Emily didnt believe it. Her mother always wanted to see herevery day, every hour. Even a quick 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 sipped his coffee, pretending not to hear. The kitchen was eerily quietno clattering dishes, no comments about weak tea or dirty floors.
«I took the day off,» James said, standing. «I think we need to talk. Properly.»
Emily nodded. They did. It was time to lay everything out.
«First, Ill go see Mum,» she said. «Then well talk.»
Aunt Margaret lived across town in an old walk-up flat. As Emily climbed the worn stairs, she wondered how her mother would manage four flights with her walking stick.
Aunt Margareta plump woman with dyed red hairanswered the door. A distant cousin they barely spoke to.
«Come in,» she said, stepping aside. «Your mums in the kitchen.»
Emily slipped off her shoes and followed the narrow hall. The flat was cramped, the ceilings low. 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 said. «Thought your husband might stop you.»
«How could you think that? Of course I came.»
«And whats changed?» Margaret finally looked at her. Her face was calm, but her eyes shone too brightly. «Nothing, really. Your husband showed whos in charge. I always said he was weak. Turns out hes a tyrant.»
Emily sighed. Black or whiteno in-between. How could she explain there were other colours in the world?
«Hes not a tyrant, Mum. Hes just tired. Weve all been struggling.»
«Struggling?» Margaret scoffed. «And I havent? Being ill, depending on others, hearing how much of a burden I am? You think I didnt see how he looked at me? How he sighed when I walked in?»
«Mum»
«Dont pity me,» Margaret cut in. «I didnt raise you for that. You chose himlive with him. Ill manage.»
Aunt Margaret tactfully left them alone. Emily studied her mothergrey-haired but still striking, proud as ever. Unbending.
«I could rent you a flat near us,» Emily offered. «Or hire a carer to come every day.»
«No need,» Margaret said. «Ill stay here awhile. Then go back to my own place.»
«But the doctors said»
«Doctors say a lot of things,» Margaret tightened her lips. «Ill be fine. Exercise, watch my blood pressure. Learn to live again.»
Her voice was firm, but her hands trembled around her cup. For the first time in years, she was afraidtruly alone.
«Ill visit every day,» Emily promised.
«Dont,» Margaret said. «Youve your own life. Weekends are enough.»
Emily knew that tone. Her mother wouldnt budge. Pride had always been her greatest flawand her greatest strength.
They talked another hourabout the flat, what she needed. Margaret refused almost everything.
As Emily left, her mother suddenly grabbed her hand.
«I just wanted you happy,» she said softly. «Thats all I ever wanted. Maybe your James is right. Maybe youll be better off without me.»
Emily hugged her, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender and rosehome, safety.
«I love you, Mum,» she whispered. «Ill always be here.»
Margaret nodded, pulling away. The proud mask slid back into place.
«Go on,» she said. «Dont keep your husband waiting.»
Outside, Emily stood a moment, breathing deeply. Guilt twisted inside her. In her head, she knew James was rightthis was better for everyone. But her heart ached at the thought of her mother feeling abandoned.
At home, James had lunch readyher favourite pasta bake. They sat across from each other, like old times.
«How is she?» he asked.
«Proud. Acting like its all fine.»
James nodded. He knew his mother-in-lawiron-willed, never showing weakness.
«Em, I know youre angry,» he said. «But I couldnt 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 in half trying to please everyone.»
Emily stayed quiet. There was truth in his wordspainful, uncomfortable truth.
«Heres what I propose,» James said. «We get her a nice flatbright, modern, with a lift. Hire a carer to come dailycooking, cleaning, errands. Get her a panic button in case of emergencies. You visit as often as you like. But she lives separately.»
«And if she gets worse?»
«Then we reassess. Maybe a care home with medical staff. But only if we have to.»
Emily studied himtired, but determined. Hed put up with three years of thisfor her. Three years with a woman who disrespected him. And hed stayed.
«Okay,» she said softly. «But no more decisions behind my back.»
James smiledthe first real smile in ages.
«Promise. No more.»
They ate in silence, but it was comfortable now. Something between them had clicked back into place.
Later, Emily called her mother with the new plan. To her surprise, Margaret agreed almost immediately.
«But I pick the flat,» Margaret said firmly. «And the carer. No strangers forced on me.»
«Of course, Mum,» Emily smiled. «Whatever you want.»
That evening, she and James curled up on the sofa, watching an old film they used to love. He pulled her close, 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.
«And I was afraid Id come home one day to find you gone,» she admitted. «That youd had enough and just left.»
«Never,» James held her tighter. «I promise.»
They kissed like they had years agodesperate, hungry. Then talked for hours, spilling every hurt, every fear.
Late that night, Emily remembered Jamess words when she first arrived: *Your mother doesnt live here anymore*. At the time, theyd felt cruel. An ending.
Now, she wonderedmaybe it was a beginning. A new life for all of them. One where they learned to love without suffocating, to care without controlling.
She fell asleep curled against James, and for the first time in years, she didnt dream of stormsjust warm seas, sandy shores, and a sun rising, not setting.
Sometimes, letting go isnt losingits making space for something new to grow.
