14October2025
I woke at half past six because Emily was fiddling with her phone, the glow of the screen cutting into my eyes. From the kitchen a clatter rose her mother, Margaret, was already banging pots about. She gets up at six and rouses the whole house with her racket.
Mike, why are you still up? she asked.
Just scrolling through videos, I muttered without looking away from the screen.
I pushed the blanket aside and sat up. The room we share is tiny, barely twelve feet across; my childhood bedroom used to be bigger. Our few belongings are crammed into two suitcases under the bed, the wardrobe having been commandeered by Margarets endless bricabrac.
This is only temporary, love, temporary, she kept saying. Soon Ill clear it out and give you a proper closet.
What was supposed to be temporary stretched into eight months of our life together.
Emily, we need to talk, I said.
Lets chat after breakfast, shall we? Mums probably flipping crumpets now, she replied, eyes still glued to the phone.
Crumpets! I shouted, then stopped, fearing Margaret would hear. Emily, I dont care about crumpets. I want us to have a place of our own. Separate. Understand?
She huffed. Here we go again, she sighed. We agreed wed save up first.
What did we agree on? I snapped, leaping from the bed and throwing on a robe. You said a couple of months. Its been eight! Eight months and you havent even looked at any rental. Youre happy letting your mum feed, wash, and clean for you. After work you plop on the sofa like a schoolboy after lessons!
Stop getting worked up, I said, stretching. Were managing. Were saving decently.
What decent money? I laughed out loud. You pull in £35,000 a year and youre content not hunting for another job! You keep saying Uncle Victors job is comfortable and the team is great, yet at this rate we wont have a penny saved in five years!
Mike, my husband, frowned. He never liked it when I mentioned his salary.
Its stable, though. Im not hopping around like you every six months.
I felt a sting, but stayed quiet. Yes, Id changed jobs, looking for higher pay and a clear career path. I now earned £60,000 as an administrator at a private clinic, with a promised promotion to senior administrator at £80,000.
Listen, I whispered, Im tired of asking your mothers permission to hang a little shelf for my cosmetics in the bathroom. Im tired of her telling me Im frying the potatoes wrong and ironing your shirts incorrectly. Im tired of pretending I enjoy watching her soap operas in the kitchen every night because we have no TV in our room!
Emily, youre exaggerating, Mike protested. Mum isnt like that.
Your mum, I cut in, treats me like a temporary guest, someone to fill the space until a better one appears. She pulls little tricks daily. One day shell slip salt into my tea instead of sugar by accident. Another shell wash my underwear with your black socks, turning everything a drab grey.
I kept silent, hoping shed get used to me. But Im thirty, Mike! I want a home of my own. I want children. Not to live forever as a guest in some aunts spare room.
Mike lowered his head. I saw the conflict tearing him between me and his mother.
Theres a flat Ian is letting out, I continued, £1,200 a month, clean, barely any furniture. Ive already viewed it. Between us we can cover rent and food. Im setting aside £800 a month for a deposit. In two years we could buy a modest newbuild and finally have something thats ours.
Youve decided without me? Mike snapped. You went looking on your own? Decisions like that should be made together, as a couple!
A couple? Emily, darling, we never make decisions together. Everything is decided in your mothers kitchen while you just nod. Even our holiday was to where she wanted her sisters cottage in Cornwall, while I dreamed of Brighton.
From the next room came Margarets voice: Kids, breakfast! The crumpets are getting cold!
Im moving out the day after tomorrow, with or without you. If you wont come, its divorce. Your call. I stood up, delivering my ultimatum and left the room.
The whole day I drifted like through fog. At work colleagues asked if I was ill my face must have shown it. In the evening I lingered, deliberately delayed, wandering aimlessly through the shopping centre.
Mike wasnt home. Margaret sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea with a spoonful of jam.
Emily dear, Mike told me you both want to move out, she said sweetly, though her eyes were cold. Is that a joke?
Its not a joke, Mrs. Peters, I replied.
Money down the drain! she snorted. Live here, save! We spent twenty years living with my parents and managed fine.
I dont want to spend another twenty years saving, I said. I want to live now.
Youre young and spoiled, she retorted. You think Mike will run after you? Hes obedient, he wont abandon his mother.
Well see, I said and walked to the spare room.
Mike returned just before midnight. I pretended to be asleep, but he perched on the edge of the bed and whispered:
Emily, I went to see the flat you mentioned.
And? I asked.
Its decent, bright, windows onto the courtyard, quiet. Ive booked it. Well sign the lease tomorrow. Mum shouted for half an hour, Dad stayed silent as usual. But I realised youre right. Its time we start living for ourselves.
I could hardly believe my ears.
Really?
Really, he took my hand. Sorry I dragged my feet. It was scary I didnt know if we could manage, and I felt guilty leaving Mum. Shes alone, and Dads always away on assignments. I thought Id be abandoning them.
Susan, were not moving to a different country, just a different suburb, I said. We can visit her weekly.
I told her that, he chuckled. She said she didnt want to see me any more.
Itll pass, I reassured him, hugging him tight. Shell get used to it.
I also want, Mike faltered, to find a better job. Ill look, I promise.
I kissed him. Together we can make it work.
We moved on Saturday while Margaret was away at her country house. Mikes father helped haul our suitcases up to the fourth floor. As he left, he said, Youre doing the right thing, kids. Young couples need their own space.
Lesson learned: love alone isnt enough; you must also have the courage to build a life that belongs to both of you.
