Clear out a room in the house, my parents will be living there now, James said, handing me the decision as if it were a finished contract.
Evelyn sat at her desk when a knock sounded on the office door. James slipped in, his eyes scanning the familiar space as if seeing it for the first time.
May I come in? he asked, already past the threshold.
She nodded, eyes glued to the screen. The house had come from her Aunt Margaret five years earliera bright, threebedroom bungalow in Surrey. Evelyn had converted one bedroom into a perfect home office, where order and silence ruled.
Listen, James began, perching on the edge of the sofa, my parents are complaining again about the citys rush.
Evelyn finally turned to him. Ten years of marriage had taught her to read his tone; a hint of uncertainty trembled in his voice now.
My mother says she cant sleep because of the noise, James continued. And my father keeps saying hes fed up with everything moving so fast. On top of that, the mortgage payments are climbing.
I see, she replied briefly, diving back into her work.
But the topic kept resurfacing. Each evening James found a fresh excuse to bring up his parents grievancessometimes the smog, sometimes noisy neighbours upstairs, sometimes the steep stairs in their block.
They dream of quiet, you know? he said at dinner one night. A proper home, a bit of peace.
Evelyn chewed slowly, considering his words. James was never this verbose; his sudden focus on his parents felt odd.
So what are you suggesting? she asked cautiously.
Nothing special, he shrugged. Just thinking about them.
A week later, James was in Evelyns office more often. At first he claimed he needed a file, then simply lingered, eyes drifting over the walls as if measuring something invisible.
Nice room, he remarked one evening. Bright, spacious.
Evelyn glanced up, detecting a new edge in his tonea hint of appraisal.
Yes, I like working here, she said.
You know, James said, moving to the window, maybe you could move your desk to the bedroom? You could set up a workstation there too.
A tight knot formed in Evelyns chest. She set down her pen, staring at him.
Why would I move? Its comfortable here.
I dont know, he muttered. Just thought about it.
The thought of moving lingered, refusing to quit. Evelyn began to notice how James let his gaze sweep the office, mentally rearranging furniture, pausing at the doorway as if already picturing a different layout.
Listen, he said a few days later, maybe its time to free up your office, just in case.
His suggestion sounded like a decision already made. Evelyn flinched.
Why should I free up the room? she asked, sharper than intended.
Just thinking, James hesitated. I thought we could use a spare room for guests.
She understood instantly. All the comments about his parents, all the casual remarks about the officeparts of a single plan, one that excluded her voice.
James, she said slowly, tell me straight. Whats happening?
He turned to the window, avoiding her eyes. Silence stretched, and Evelyn realised the choice had been made without her.
James, she repeated firmly, whats going on?
His face froze, then a flash of resolve crossed his features.
Okay, my parents are really tired of the citys bustle, he began, careful now. They need peace, you know?
Evelyn rose from her desk, anxiety bubbling after weeks of suppression.
And what do you propose? she asked, already guessing.
Were a family, James said, as if that settled everything. We have an extra room.
Extra. Her office, her sanctuary, now an extra room. Evelyns fists clenched.
This isnt an extra room, she said slowly. Its my office.
Yes, but you could work in the bedroom, he shrugged. My parents have nowhere else to go.
The line felt rehearsed. Evelyn realised this wasnt the first time this conversation had been rehearsedjust not with her.
James, this is my house, she snapped. I never agreed to your parents moving in.
But you dont mind, do you? he countered, irritation edging his voice. Were family, right?
Again that excusefamily, as if belonging to a family automatically silenced her. Evelyn stepped toward the window, trying to steady herself.
What if I do mind? she asked without turning.
Dont be selfish, James snapped. Its about elderly people.
Selfish. For refusing to give up her workspace. For demanding a say. Evelyn 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 dutyanother pretty phrase meant to shut her down. Evelyn would not stay silent.
And 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. Years of building the perfect office dismissed as trivial. Evelyn finally saw James as he truly was.
When did you decide everything? she whispered.
I didnt decide anything, he began to defend himself. Just thinking about options.
Youre lying, she said. Youve already spoken to your parents, havent you?
Silence spoke louder than any retort. Evelyn sank back into her chair, trying to process the betrayal.
So you consulted everyone except me, she stated.
Stop it, James exploded. What difference does it make who talked to whom?
What difference. Her consent, her homewhat difference? She realised James was acting like the owner, ignoring her ownership rights.
The next morning James entered the kitchen looking like a man who had already made his final call. Evelyn sat at the table, coffee steaming, awaiting the continuation of yesterdays storm.
Listen, he began without preamble, my parents have finally decided to move in.
Evelyn looked up. No room for discussion lingered in his tone.
Clear out a room, now my parents will live there, he added, as if issuing an order.
For Evelyn, the revelation hit hard. They hadnt even asked her. James hadnt just omitted herhe had excluded her entirely.
Her cup trembled. Everything turned over as the scale of the betrayal sank in. James waited, his posture that of a commander expecting obedience.
Are you serious? she said slowly. You just decided for me? I told you yesterday Im against it!
Calm down, he waved off. Its logical. Where else can they live?
Evelyn set the cup down and stood, her hands shaking with accumulated anger.
James, youve betrayed me, she said flatly. Youve put your parents needs above our marriage.
Dont dramatise, he muttered. Its family.
And what am I, a stranger? her voice sharpened. Youve crossed my boundaries and ignored my voice in my own home!
James turned away, clearly caught off guard. All these years shed gone along with his decisions; now something snapped.
You treat me like staff, she continued. You expect me to endure in silence.
Stop the hysteria, he snapped, irritated. Nothing serious is happening.
Nothing serious. Her opinion dismissed, her space takennothing serious. Evelyn stepped closer.
I refuse to give up my room, she declared. And I wont let your parents move in without invitation.
How dare you? James exploded. Theyre my parents!
And this is my house! she shouted. I wont live with a man who sees me as nothing!
James staggered back, seeing her fury for the first time. In her eyes burned a resolve hed never noticed.
You dont understand, he said, confused. My parents are counting on us.
And you dont understand me, Evelyn cut in. Ten years and you still treat me like a toy.
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 stammered. What are you talking about?
Im no longer willing to live with a man who doesnt consider me, she said slowly, clearly.
James opened his mouth but found no reply. He hadnt expected this turn.
This is our house, he muttered.
Legally, the property is in my name, Evelyn reminded him coldly. I have every right to ask you to leave.
James stood, stunned, as the reality of his actions finally sank in.
Ira, lets talk calmly, he tried, an awkward attempt at reconciliation. We can reach an agreement.
Too late, she cut. The agreement should have been made before you decided.
James tried to object, but Evelyns stubborn stare left him speechless. She was no longer the compliant wife who made concessions for years.
Pack your things, she said, her tone steady.
A week later Evelyn sat in her office, the silence she cherished filling the house. The rooms felt larger without strangers; order had returned.
She felt no regret, only the quiet certainty that she had done what was right. For the first time in years she defended her boundaries and her selfrespect.
The phone rang. It was Jamess number. Evelyn let it go to voicemail and turned back to her work. Love and family cannot survive without respect, and no sense of duty to relatives gives anyone the right to trample on the person beside them.
She finally understood that.
