Im sitting on the edge of the bed, the old leather suitcase open in front of me, and I cant stop the shaking in my chest.
While youre still staying with Mum, my sister is coming over, Simon said, packing my things into the battered suitcase.
Youre joking, I tried to protest. Its Tuesday, Lucy has school!
Hell pick her up after lessons. Ive already arranged it.
Arranged? Without me? Simon, whats happening?
I watched him pull sweaters, shirts, jeans from the wardrobe, his movements practiced, as if rehearsing a scene. He didnt look at me.
Its nothing, he said calmly. Irene is staying for a week. She needs a spare room because she cant stand noise. And Lucy has been blasting music all morning.
Why does that matter? I snapped. Irene could stay in a hotelor sleep on the couch!
Simon finally met my eyes. There was a chill there I hadnt seen before, a cold indifference.
On the couch? My sister in a hotel? Natalie, are you hearing yourself? This is my house, by the way.
Its our house, I whispered.
Its mine, he cut in. Bought with my money. I decide who lives here.
For the first time in twentythree years of marriage I felt my throat close. Twentythree years of running this home, raising a child, cooking, cleaning, waiting for him to come home from work. And now he was stuffing my belongings into a suitcase as if I were a temporary lodger.
How long? I asked, fighting the tremor in my voice. How long will I have to stay with Mum?
A week, maybe two. Irene hasnt decided yet. It depends on how things go.
What things? Shes on holiday!
He slammed the suitcase shut and buckled the locks.
Its not your business. Pack, Ill drive you in an hour.
He left the room, leaving me alone in our bedroom. I sank onto the bed, staring at the suitcasethe very one we took on our honeymoon. Back then it was new and shiny, packed with my dresses and his shirts. Now it was the vehicle of my exile from my own home.
Mum met me at the door with a sour expression.
Well, look who finally showed up, she said.
Mum, please, I said, dragging the suitcase inside.
You should have listened when I warned you. Said it would end up like this when you married, when the house was put in his name. Listen to your mother!
Margaret Bennett, at seventytwo, was a woman of strict rules and even stricter judgments. She still had a clear mind and a hard edge that sometimes felt excessive.
Mum, Ill only stay the night. It wont be long.
Sure, it wont be long. Ive heard that before. First a week, then a month, and before you know it youre filing for divorce. Your sisters coming, you know which one the one who was last seen at our house five years ago?
I didnt answer. I went to my old bedroom, now turned into Mums wardrobe and a stack of magazines. The narrow single bed from my youth was still there.
Have a cup of tea, Mum softened. You look pale. Skipped breakfast?
Im not hungry.
Ten minutes later I was sitting at the kitchen table with a strong cup of tea and a toast, Mum across from me, watching me closely.
Somethings wrong, she said. He wouldnt just push you out.
He didnt push me out; he asked to stay with you.
Natalie, Im seventytwo, but I havent lost my mind. Men dont throw wives out of the house for no reason. Theres always another woman or money trouble.
He doesnt have another woman.
And how do you know that? You sit at home all day while he works from dawn to dusk. Did you check his phone?
Mum!
What, dear? Youre so naive. Always have been.
I finished my tea and stood.
I need to pick up Lucy. Shes due out at three.
Simon promised to collect her.
Ill get her myself.
Lucy burst out of school with her friends, laughing, but when she saw me her smile faded.
Mum? Wheres Dad? He was supposed to pick me up.
Ive decided to take her myself, I said, hugging her shoulders. Lets go and talk.
We walked through the autumn park and I tried to explain Id have to stay with Grandma, Irene was arriving, it would only be short.
He kicked you out, Lucy said plainly.
No, its just
Mum, Im fifteen, not five. I get it. He threw you out of the house and me with him.
Lucy, dont say that.
She turned to face me, eyes fierce.
How else can I talk? The truth? Mum, Ive noticed hes been acting strangely for a month. Hiding his phone, disappearing at night. Do you see it?
I dont.
Im not blind or deaf. Two nights ago I heard him laughing in the bathroom for an hour, as if talking to someone while we slept.
My legs gave way.
What was he laughing about?
I didnt catch the words, just the tone. When was the last time you heard Dad laugh like that?
I was silent. I truly couldnt remember.
In Mums flat we found the living room already set with two beds and dinner laid out.
I love borscht, potatoes and meatballs, Mum declared cheerfully. After we eat Ill put on a good film about love.
Id rather stay in my room and do my homework, Lucy said, dropping her backpack.
What homework on a holiday? Mum chided. You should be relaxing!
Lucy slipped away to another room, leaving Mum and me alone.
She understands everything, Mum said quietly. You cant hide the truth from her.
We ate in silence. The borscht was thick and hearty, just like Mum could make. I forced down each bite.
Call him, Mum suddenly suggested. Ask about his sister. Let him know you havent given up.
I dont want to call.
You must. You cant leave a man unchecked.
I didnt call that night or the next. I went through the motions helping Mum, picking Lucy up from school, trying to keep my head above water.
On the third day a friend, Emma, called.
Natalie, where have you been? Ive tried a hundred times!
My phone was on silent.
Do you know if Simons with some other woman?
My heart stopped.
What? Where did you hear that
Emma saw them in the new restaurant on Garden Street. He was kissing her hand. She thought it was his sister, but said she was about thirty, not his sister.
The Garden Street place? The pricey one we never go to?
I hung up, hands trembling. The truth was hitting me hard.
Mum noticed my pale face.
Can I go back home? I asked. I need to fetch something.
She stared at me long enough to make me feel exposed.
Go. Just dont cause a scene. Find out whats happening first.
On the bus I tried to steady my thoughts. Maybe Emma had mistaken something. Maybe it was a misunderstanding. Deep down I knew it was true.
Outside my block, a sleek white foreign car waited. I climbed the stairs, fumbled with the keys, my hand shaking as the lock clicked.
Inside the flat, a fragrant scent of expensive perfume lingered. Laughter floated from the lounge.
I slipped off my shoes and crept down the hallway. The livingroom door was ajar.
On the sofa sat a young woman with long, blond hair, barefoot in a white robe, a glass of wine and a bowl of fruit on the coffee table.
Simon was beside her, his hand gently on her arm, whispering.
You promised she wouldnt be back for a week, the woman said softly.
Shes with Mum now, Simon replied. The daughters there too, dont worry.
The words hit me like a punch.
Will you tell her? the woman asked.
Ill sort the paperwork on the house first, so she cant claim anything.
She kissed his cheek.
I felt my knees buckle. The word traitor echoed in my mind.
The door swung open and Simons voice called, Natalie?
I didnt look back. I bolted out of the flat, down the stairs, burst into the street, gasping for air. Passersby glanced, but I didnt care.
I didnt get home until dusk. Mum met me at the door, worry etched on her face.
Whats wrong? she asked.
I slipped out of my coat, lay on the bed, and let the tears fall. Lucy knocked, but Mum brushed her away.
An hour later the door burst open. Simon stood there, his tone urgent.
Natalie, we need to talk.
I dont want to.
Its not what you think.
Then tell me, Simon.
He sat on the edge of the bed.
Its Irene shes my work assistant. Shes here to help with paperwork.
In a white robe, barefoot, with wine? I asked, my voice trembling.
He fell silent.
I heard everything, I said. About the papers, about you trying to keep the house from me. Do you think Im a fool?
He tried to explain, saying hed met Rita six months ago, that theyd drifted together, that he no longer felt love for me.
My twentythree years with you, raising a child, keeping this house… and you think I should just disappear?
He stood, pacing. Im not happy. Were just housemates now. When was the last time you cared about my work?
Nothing! You came home, ate, went to bed. Thats all.
Rita, young and attractive, stood in the doorway, her voice cutting in, Hes just a man, Natalie.
Mum, standing in the hall, added, Simon, youre a selfish old dog. This isnt your right.
Simon tried to assert his ownership, The house is in my name, the sole owner.
Its joint property, I said, steady. We bought it together.
He laughed, Prove it. Can you afford a lawyer?
I had none. Ten years of not working left me penniless.
Mum placed a hand on my shoulder. You have a right to half.
The next days blurred. I still collected Lucy from school, helped Mum, tried to read, but my mind kept looping back to that night in the flat.
Emma called again. Natalie, you need a solicitor. Ill lend you the money.
On what? I asked.
Ill find a way. You cant just give up.
I wanted to believe her, but years with Simon had taught me to shrink. He always decided, spent, chose where we lived, how we vacationed.
One evening Lucy said, Mum, I want to go back home.
We cant, Mum replied.
Why? This is our house! Why are we staying with that woman and Dad?
Because Dad decided.
Lucy turned to me, eyes fierce beyond her age.
I dont know what to do.
Im lost too, I admitted.
She said, Then well kick her out. This is our home, yours, mine, and Granddads in a way. He just handed it to some stranger!
I wont be silent any longer, Lucy declared. Youve put up with his shouting over undercooked soup, his missed birthdays, his drunken latenight returns. Youve suffered enough.
Where did you hear all that?
Im not deaf, Mum. I heard you crying in the kitchen, thinking I was asleep.
I embraced Lucy, truly for the first time in days, and whispered, Im sorry, love.
She replied, Dont apologise. Lets act.
The next morning I dressed in my best coat, added a modest pair of heels, and faced Mum.
Where are you off to? she asked.
To see a solicitor.
Emma introduced me to a solicitor, Ms. Patel, in a modest office. She listened, took notes, and said, Its a typical case. He thinks because the title is in his name he can do whatever, but you have a claim to half the marital home, especially with a minor child involved.
My finances are terrible, I said.
First consultation is free. If we win, his costs come out of the settlement.
A flicker of hope sparked.
When I got back, Lucy was waiting, tears in her eyes. Dad called. He said if I dont leave the house hell take away his parental rights.
What? I gasped.
He called me crazy, said I abandoned the family, cant provide for you, and will have us separated.
Mum tried to reassure me, Hell never do that.
But Simon had always taken whatever he wanted, no matter the cost.
That night I lay awake, weighing the house against my daughter. I realized the roof over our heads wasnt worth losing Lucy.
In the morning I called Simon.
Ill let the house stay with you, I said.
He paused. Smart choice. Ill arrange maintenance payments for Lucy.
No need for your money, I replied. Just leave us alone.
He hung up. Mum looked puzzled.
Did you just give up? she asked.
I chose between the house and my child. I chose the child.
Your right is to protect Lucy, not to chase after a house.
She sighed. Its a pity, all those years spent on that home.
I was already moving on. At fortyfive, with a dated qualification and a decade out of the workforce, I started hunting for work. A retail job in a highstreet clothing store finally opened up. The pay was modest, but it was a start.
The first weeks were brutal standing on my feet all day, dealing with demanding customers, a strict manager. Yet each day I grew a little stronger, found a rhythm.
Mum beamed when I brought home my first paycheck. Im proud of you, she said.
Lucy helped around the house, studied well, and one evening said, I actually like staying with Grandma. Were a good little team.
I hugged her, feeling a warmth I hadnt felt in years.
Three months later I was promoted to senior sales associate, my salary rising, and I began saving for a tiny flat of my own.
One afternoon Simon walked into the shop with that same woman, Rita, browsing dresses. I greeted them with a professional smile.
Good afternoon, how can I help you? I asked.
Simons face went pale when he recognized me. Natalie? You work here?
Yes, I replied evenly. What can I do for you?
Rita glanced at me, perhaps expecting a broken woman. Instead she saw a confident, wellkept shop assistant.
That dress looks lovely on you, I said to Rita. You might want a size smaller; youre quite slender.
Rita blushed, thanked me, and left with a dress. Simon lingered, his eyes showing a hint of regret.
That evening I recounted the encounter to Mum and Lucy.
How did you feel? Lucy asked.
Strange, actually. I felt free.
Then youve let go, Mum said, nodding. Thats the right thing.
Yes, I let go. Twentythree years with a man who never valued me, a house I had poured my heart into, a dream of a happy family. In return I gained freedom, a job I enjoy, my daughters respect, Mums support, and most importantly, myself the real Natalie, unafraid to start over.
