**Diary Entry**
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard that voice again. Whats for lunch? There he wastwelve-year-old Alfie, my husbands nephewleaning in the doorway with that same expectant, pitiful look hed worn every day for the past month.
Sighing, I set aside the jumper Id been folding for Tom. Come on, lets see what weve got, I said, fighting to keep the irritation from my voice.
Alfie trailed behind me to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I clenched my jaw. Just as Id expectedToms sister, Emily, had left nothing for her son. Again. I pulled out the leftover soup Id made for myself and Tom the night before, microwaved it, and placed it in front of Alfie with a side of mashed potatoes and a sausage from yesterdays dinner.
Thanks, Aunt Sophie, he mumbled, barely looking up before digging in.
I returned to the bedroom, mechanically folding laundry while my thoughts spiralled. How had I let it get to this? Two months ago, life had been different
I remembered the evening everything changed. Tom had come home tense, sat me down, and taken my hands. Soph, love, Ive got a favour to ask. Emily and Mark lost their flatlandlord kicked them out, kept the deposit. Theyve got nowhere to go. Our place is big enough
*Your* place is big enough, Id snapped. Tom, I cant live with strangers. Yes, its a three-bed, but that doesnt mean theres room for them.
Hed sighed. Theyre family. Just a few months, till they save up. Alfie needs stability before school starts.
The pleading in his eyes had worn me down. How could I say no?
Now, folding yet another pile of shirts, I cursed my own weakness. The first week had been fineEmily helped with meals, Mark kept to himself, Alfie did his homework. But when Emily went back to work, everything changed.
She only cooked dinnerjust enough for her little family. Never mind that Alfie came home from school starving, always turning to me with *that* question.
Whats for lunch?
Each time, fury twisted in my gut. I wanted to scream, to make a scene, but the boy wasnt to blame. His parents shouldve fed him.
That night, I tried talking to Tom. This isnt right. Emily only cooks for dinner, and Alfies left hungry all day.
Tom barely glanced up from his book. Whats the issue? Youre homejust give him something.
Its not *my* job to feed someone elses child! And my salary doesnt stretch that far.
Soph, were family. Theyre struggling. Why make a fuss?
His dismissal stung. To him, this was normalmy time, my money, my labour, all freely given for *his* relatives.
I was at my wits end. Kicking them out wasnt an optionthey had nowhere to go. But living like this was unbearable.
Then, a miracle. At the café, my old uni friend Lucy grinned. Fancy two weeks at my cottage? Peace, quiet, decent Wi-Fi. Tom wont mind.
I nearly cried with relief. Two weeks without that dreaded question, without tension in my own home.
The next morning, Tom eyed my packed bag. Going somewhere?
Lucys cottage. Shes just had a breakupneeds company. You dont mind, do you?
He kissed me goodbye, and I was free.
Until my phone rang at lunch. Emilys voice screeched through. Sophie! How *could* you leave Alfie with no food? Hes starving!
Calmly, I replied, Not my problem. Youre his mother.
She explodedaccusing me of selfishness, betrayalbut I hung up. For the first time in months, I breathed easy.
The fortnight flew by. I returned refreshed, only to find Emily and Tom waiting, furious.
Finally! Emily snapped. Do you know what weve been through? Alfies been living on ready meals! Youve betrayed this family!
I set down my bag. Who is he to me? Your sonnot mine. I wont be treated like a servant.
Silence.
After that, I only bought food for myself and Tom. Alfie gave me pleading looks, but I held firm.
On the third day, Emily cracked. She woke early, cooked meals, and shoved them at me. Just heat up the stew and potatoes at lunch, she muttered.
I arched a brow. Was that so hard?
She scowled but nodded. A fragile peace settled.
Soon, theyd save up and leave. Until then, Id stand my ground. And Tom would learnIm not a doormat. Not anymore.
