Clear out a room, my parents are moving in, James said, handing me the decision like it was already settled.
Emily was hunched over her desk when someone knocked on the office door. James slipped in, looking at the familiar space with a strangely fresh gaze.
Mind if I come in? he asked, even though hed already crossed the threshold.
She nodded without taking her eyes off the monitor. The house had come from her Aunt Margaret five years ago a bright, threebedroom bungalow in Kent. Emily had turned one of the rooms into a perfect home office ordered, quiet, just the way she liked it.
Listen, James began, perching on the edge of the sofa, my parents are griping again about the city noise.
Emily finally turned to him. Ten years of marriage had taught her his tone inside out, and there was a hint of uncertainty now.
My mum says she cant sleep because of the traffic, James continued. And dad keeps saying hes fed up with the constant rush. Plus the rents climbing every month.
I see, she replied shortly, diving back into her work.
But the talk about his parents didnt stop. Every evening James found a new excuse to bring them up the smog, noisy upstairs neighbours, a steep stairwell in their block.
Theyre dreaming of peace, you know? he said once at dinner. A proper quiet home.
Emily chewed slowly, thinking it over. James wasnt usually that chatty, and his sudden focus on his parents felt odd.
So what are you thinking? she asked cautiously.
Nothing special, he shrugged. Just mulling it over.
A week later, Emily noticed James drifting into her office more often. At first he claimed he needed a document, then just because. Hed pause by the wall, eyes scanning as if measuring something.
Nice room, he remarked one evening. Bright, spacious.
Emily looked up from her papers. There was a new note in his voice, like an appraisal.
Yes, I love working here, she said.
You know, James said, moving to the window, maybe you could set up a desk in the bedroom? Itd free up this space.
Something tightened inside her. She set her pen down and stared at him.
Why move? Its comfortable here.
I dont know, he mumbled. Just thought about it.
The idea kept circling. Emily saw James mentally rearrange the furniture, lingering at the doorway as if already picturing a different layout.
Listen, he said a few days later, maybe its time to clear the office, just in case.
It sounded like a decision already made. Emily flinched.
Why should I clear the room? she asked, sharper than she meant.
Just thinking, James hesitated. I was wondering if we might need a guest room.
She got it then all the casual remarks about his parents, the office, were pieces of one plan, one that didnt involve her opinion.
James, be straight with me. Whats happening? she said slowly.
He turned away to the window, avoiding her gaze. The silence stretched. Emily realised something had been decided without her.
James, she pressed, whats going on?
He finally turned, his face flushed with embarrassment, but a flicker of resolve in his eyes.
My parents are really tired of the city, he began cautiously. They need peace, you know?
Emilys stomach tightened. Shed been pushing the anxiety down for weeks.
And what are you suggesting? she asked, already guessing.
Were family, James said, as if that explained everything. We have an extra room.
Extra. Her office, her sanctuary, now an extra room. Emilys fists clenched.
This isnt an extra room, she said slowly. Its my office.
Yes, but you could work in the bedroom, James shrugged. My parents have nowhere else to go.
The line sounded rehearsed. Emily knew this conversation wasnt the first. It was just the latest.
James, this is my house, she said sharply. I never agreed to your parents moving in.
But you dont mind, do you? he retorted, irritation creeping in. Were family, right?
Again that excuse. Family, as if it automatically silenced her. Emily stepped toward the window, trying to steady herself.
And what if I do mind? she asked without turning.
Dont be selfish, James snapped. Its about the elderly.
Selfish. For not wanting to give up her workspace, for expecting a say. Emily faced him.
Selfish? she repeated. For wanting my opinion considered?
Come on, James waved his hand. Its a family duty. We cant abandon them.
Family duty. Another pretty phrase to shut her down. But Emily wasnt going to be quiet any longer.
What about my duty to myself? she asked.
Stop dramatising, he brushed off. Its not a big deal, just move the computer elsewhere.
Not a big deal. All those years building the perfect office dismissed as trivial. Emily finally saw James as if for the first time.
When did you start deciding everything? she asked quietly.
I didnt decide anything, he started to defend himself. Just thinking about options.
Youre lying, she said. Youve already talked to your parents, havent you?
The silence said more than any words. Emily sank back into her chair, trying to process it all.
So you consulted everyone except me, she stated.
Stop it, James exploded. What does it matter who talked to whom?
What does it matter. Her opinion, her consent, her home what does it matter? She realised James was acting like the sole owner, ignoring her rights.
The next morning James came into the kitchen looking like a man whod made a final call. Emily sat at the table with a mug of tea, waiting for the continuation of yesterdays argument.
Listen, he began without preamble, my parents have finally decided to move in.
Emily looked up. There was no room for discussion in his tone.
Clear out a room, now theyll live there, he added, as if issuing an order.
For Emily, that was a moment of clarity. They hadnt even asked her. He hadnt just omitted her hed excluded her entirely.
The mug trembled in her hands. Everything swirled as she grasped the depth of the betrayal. James stood waiting for her reaction, as if he were a landlord giving orders.
Are you serious? she said slowly. You just took it upon yourself to decide for me? I told you yesterday Im against it!
Calm down, he waved off. Its logical. Where else could they live?
Emily set the mug down and stood, her hands shaking with a mix of anger and resolve.
James, youve betrayed me, she said bluntly. Youve put your parents needs above our marriage.
Dont dramatise, he muttered. Its family.
And what am I, a stranger? Emilys voice sharpened. Youve crossed my boundaries and ignored my voice in my own home!
James turned away, clearly not expecting that reaction. All those years shed gone along with his decisions, now something had finally snapped.
You treat me like a servant, she continued. You decided I should just endure and stay silent.
Stop the hysteria, he snapped, irritated. Nothing serious is happening.
Nothing serious. Her opinion dismissed, her space taken and it was nothing serious. Emily moved closer to him.
I refuse to give up my room, she declared firmly. And I wont let your parents move in without an invitation.
How dare you? James exploded. Theyre my parents!
And this is my house! Emily shouted back. I wont live with a man who sees me as nothing!
James stepped back, finally seeing the fire in her eyes.
You dont get it, he said, confused. My parents are counting on us.
And you dont get me, Emily cut in. Ten years and you still treat me like a piece of furniture.
She crossed the kitchen, gathering the words shed held back for years.
You know what, James? she said, turning to him. Get out of my house.
What? he was taken aback. What are you talking about?
Im not willing to live with a man who doesnt respect me, Emily said, clear and calm.
James opened his mouth but found no reply. He hadnt expected this turn.
This is our house, he mumbled.
Legally, the house is in my name, Emily reminded him coldly. I have every right to ask you to leave.
He stood there, stunned, as the reality of his actions hit him.
Emily, lets talk calmly, he tried. We can work something out.
Too late, she replied. The agreement should have been made before you decided.
James tried to argue, but the stubborn set in Emilys eyes stopped him. She was no longer the compliant wife who gave way.
Pack your things, she said, steady.
A week later, Emily was back in her office, the silence she loved filling the room. The house felt larger without the strangers. The order she prized was finally restored.
She felt no remorse. A sense of rightness settled inside her. For the first time in years shed defended her boundaries and selfrespect.
The phone rang it was Jamess number. Emily let it go to voicemail and returned to her work. Love and family mean nothing without respect, and no relatives demands give anyone the right to trample on the person next to them.
She finally understood that.
