**Diary Entry, 12th June**
Blood may be thicker than water, but marriage vows are supposed to mean something. Tonight, Emily and I had the same argument again.
«Emily, did you send them money *again*?» I stood in the bedroom doorway, bank receipt in hand, jaw clenched. The numbers glared back at me£300 this month alone.
«Mum needed her prescription,» she said quietly, not looking up from ironing my shirt. The steam rose in steady puffs, but her hands trembled.
«Enough is enough. Every month its somethingmedicine for your mum, repairs for your sister, uni fees for your nephew. Were barely scraping by ourselves, and youre bankrolling half of Yorkshire!» I tossed the receipt onto the dresser.
Emily set the iron down, turned to me. Her eyes were wet, but her voice stayed calm. «James, she raised me alone after dad left. Worked two jobs to put me through uni. Cant I help her now?»
«Helping is one thing. *This*» I jabbed at the receipt, «is madness. £300! Thats a weekend in the Lakes, or savings toward the house. Instead, its gone before we even blink.»
She hung the shirt on the wardrobe, shoulders slumped. Three years married, and the same row every few weeks. At first, I didnt mind her family. Even chipped in now and then. But somewhere along the way, it changed.
I remember when her mum needed that hip operation last year. NHS waiting list was six months; private care cost £10,000. Emily sold her grandmothers jewellery, took out a loannever even asked me.
«You shut me out!» Id shouted then. «Am I your husband or just a paycheck?»
«She couldve *died*,» was all she said.
«Your family isnt our responsibility,» I told her tonight, dragging my suitcase from under the bed. «If youd rather live for them than us, go ahead.»
Back then, Id stayed at my parents for a week. Came home to find her hollow-eyed, convinced Id left for good. We made upI said I understood, but begged her to include me next time.
«James, are you listening?» Her voice snapped me back.
«I am. What do you want from me?»
«I want you to see *were* the family now. Not you and your mum, your sister, your nephews debts. Ive got dreams tooa better car, a house near the coast. But every penny vanishes into your relatives pockets.»
She sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded. «You used to say family was sacred. Remember?»
«I meant *ours*,» I said. «Not this circus.»
Then her phone rang. Her sister, Charlotte.
«Lottie?» Emily answered, eyeing me.
«Its Danny,» came the tearful voice. «Crashed his carhes fine, but its totalled. Just got it on finance, too. Now hes talking about joining the Army, says hes a failure»
Emily paled. «God, is he really alright?»
«Bruised pride more than anything. But, Em could you lend us something? Just to cover the deposit on a replacement?»
I stared holes into her back. She turned toward the window.
«Lets talk tomorrow, yeah? Im a bit tied up.»
She hung up, faced me. I crossed my arms. «Dont. Even. Think about it.»
«Hes like a son to me,» she whispered.
«And Im your *husband*. When do *we* come first? When do we get to live?»
She walked to the window. Kids laughed in the courtyard below. I used to love that sound. Now it just reminded me of all we didnt haveno holidays, no nursery to decorate. Just an endless stream of her familys crises.
«Remember our first visit to Mums?» she said suddenly. «She spent all day cookingroast beef, Yorkshire puddings. You said youd never had potatoes that good.»
«*Emily*.»
«Im just remembering. She was so happy for mesaid you looked at me like I hung the moon. Packed us strawberry jam from her garden when we left. Said her door was always open.»
«That was years ago.»
«Three. Is that so long?»
She turned, searched my face. I studied the wallpaper.
«What changed, James?»
«*I* didnt. I just woke up. Your mum, your sisterthey know youll never say no. Theyre using you.»
«*Using me?*» Her voice cracked. «Mum worked herself to the bone for me. When I had pneumonia at uni, she took unpaid leave to sit by my bed for *three weeks*. Is that using me?»
I had no answer.
«And Charlotte? When Mark left her with the kids, who helped? Me. Mum. We babysat, lent money, kept her from falling apart. Is *that* exploitation?»
Silence. She picked up the receipt.
«£300. Want to know where it went? Mums heart scanNHS wait was a month, private was £80. Her prescriptions: £120. The rest went to Lottie when Tommy had scarlet fever and she lost a weeks wages.»
«Stop,» I sighed. «It always ends with me as the villain. But maybe I just want a normal life. One where were not always cleaning up someone elses mess.»
«And is this not a life?»
«No!» I snapped. «Every weekend at your mums. Every holiday at your sisters. Half my salary gone before payday. When do *we* matter?»
She sat on the bed, small and tired. «I cant abandon her, James. Shes alone. Ill. Who else does she have?»
«You have a husband. Or you *did*.»
The words hung between us. I yanked shirts from the wardrobe, stuffed them into the case.
«Youre leaving?»
«Thinking about it. Im tired of being an afterthought.»
«There has to be a compromise»
«What, you help them *half* the time? We see them *every other* weekend? Thats not compromiseits surrender by instalments.»
«Then what do you want?»
«A life. Kids. A home. Not this endless servitude to your family.»
«Theyre *my family*,» she whispered.
«Not mine.» I zipped the case. «Your relatives arent my burden.»
She stood at the window, back rigid. «Mum asked when were visiting. Said she misses us. Thanked you for letting me help herthinks youre a good man.»
I paused. «Good men go broke paying other peoples bills.»
«Maybe shes wrong,» Emily said to the glass. «Maybe family *isnt* about standing together. Maybe its every man for himself now.»
«Maybe it is.» I lifted the case.
«Where are you going?»
«To think. You should too. About what really matters.»
«James, wait»
«Whats left to say? You wont change. I wont either. We want different things.»
At the door, I turned. «Call me if you ever decide *were* your family.»
The engine roared, then faded.
Alone, shed stare at her phoneanother plea from Charlotte, another text from her mum. The kettle would whistle. The flat would feel too big.
And Id drive, wondering when love became a ledger.
**Lesson:** Marriage isnt just vowsits a border. Cross it too often for others, and one day, youll find yourself standing alone.
