Your flat is already ours, my sisterinlaw texted, attaching a photo of my own sofa.
Did you forget the milk again? Susan, my mother, said, clutching the fridge door as if it might walk away. I asked you this morning!
I was swamped at work, Mum! I replied, rummaging through my bag without taking my shoes off. I completely blanked.
Blanked? Everythings flying out of you! How am I supposed to have coffee without milk?
Just have it black, or Ill be back in a minute.
Its already nine oclock! The shops are shut!
I tossed my heels aside and slipped into the kitchen. Susan kept muttering while she poked around the fridge. I flopped onto a chair, turned on my phone the battery had finally charged after a long day at the office.
The screen lit up, buzzing with a flood of messages: adverts, newsletters, colleagues. Then a familiar name caught my eye: Emily.
Emily was my husband Jamess younger sister, the one Id always called my sisterinlaw. I opened the chat.
Hey, Rach! Ive already moved into your flat. All settled.
Below was a picture of Emily, beaming, sprawled on the green sofa we had spent three months hunting for in Notting Hill, the very one James and I had finally bought.
A chill ran down my spine. I read the message again, and again.
Mum, I called, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.
What? Susan turned from the fridge.
Did you give anyone a spare key to our flat?
To which flat?
To ours! The one James and I share!
No, of course not! Why would I?
I stared at the phone. Emily, on my sofa, in my flat. How could that be?
I typed back, Emily, whats going on? Which flat?
Her reply was instant: The one on Kings Road, love. James said you didnt mind me staying with Mum for a while, so Im crashing here. Perfect, isnt it?
I leapt up, grabbed my coat.
Where are you going? Susan blocked the door. Rachel, whats happening?
Emilys in our flat! James let her in!
Which Emily? The one whos always complaining?
The very one!
I bolted out, sprinted down the stairs, and hailed a taxi with shaking hands. The driver struggled with the address while I shouted and urged him onward.
The ride seemed endless. I watched the passing streetlights and thought back to Emily Jamess little sister, the perpetual misfortune magnet she called herself. At thirtyfive shed been through three marriages, bounced between jobs, and was constantly being let go.
When James and I first met, Emily was sweettalking, laughing, showering us with congratulations. Then the calls started: shed lost a boyfriend, ran out of money, had nowhere to live. James kept giving her cash, an extra room, a place to stay. At first I didnt mind, but soon it became clear she was exploiting our generosity.
Shed pop in once a month, stay for weeks, scatter her belongings, turn the kitchen into a battlefield, and spend hours on the phone. James kept defending her, saying she was alone and needed help.
The last time Emily stayed, she was there for a month. I finally told James it couldnt continue we were a young couple who needed our own space. He agreed and asked Emily to move out. She sulked, didnt call for three months, thenwithout askingshe moved back in.
The taxi pulled up at the block. I paid, raced upstairs, and opened the door with my key. A wave of unfamiliar perfume hit me.
Emily was still on the sofa, munching crisps and watching the telly.
Oh, Rachel! Youre here! James told me youd be at Mums all month, she chirped.
All month?! My blood boiled. Emily, what the hell are you doing here?
Im living here, she shrugged. James said it was fine.
Im absolutely not fine! Wheres James?
Hes at work, on an emergency shift. Hell be late.
I tried calling James. No answer. Again. Still silent. I texted, Why did you let Emily move in?
His reply came a minute later: Rachel, cant talk nowmeeting. Ill explain later.
Emily, pack your stuff and leave, I said, ice in my voice.
Leave? Where am I supposed to go? My flat flooded! The repairs will take a month. James said I could stay here!
So you didnt need my permission!
Exactly! James is the owner, the lease is in his name!
I clenched my fists. Yes, the flat was in Jamess name. Wed bought it before we married; hed put more money into it. Id never insisted on joint ownership because I trusted him.
This is our flat, I said slowly. I never gave you permission to live here.
And I dont need your permission! Emily snapped. Jamess older brother is family to me! And you? Youre just the wife, and wives come and go!
What? I stammered.
Yes! You think youre his first? Before you there was Claire. She dated him for three years, then they split!
What does Claire have to do with this?
James is fickle! Today its you, tomorrow someone else! Im his sister, Im forever!
I stared at her, unable to believe the audacity. This brazen woman was occupying my home and speaking to me like I was nothing.
Tomorrow morning youre out, I told her, heading for the door.
Im not moving! James gave me a month!
I slammed the door, descended the stairs, and slumped on the landing, my hands trembling, a lump in my throat.
James arrived an hour later, saw my face, and stopped.
Rachel, whats going on?
Im waiting for you to explain why Emily is in our flat, I said.
He sat down beside me. Calm down, love. Lets talk.
Talk? You let your sister move in without telling me! You told her Id be at Mums all month! Where did you get that idea?
You said Mum lives alone and I should visit more often
Visit! Not move in! James, this is my flat too!
Emily really has nowhere to go, he said. Her flat was flooded, a nightmare. I couldnt say no to my sister.
You could have asked me first!
I thought youd understand
I dont understand why your sister is more important than me. Why should I give up my home?
Its only temporary. One month.
One month! Remember the last time she stayed? The mess, the screaming at night, the chaos! I dont want that again.
She promised to be quiet
Promised! She always promises and then does whatever she wants! I laughed hysterically. Shes a master of manipulation!
James fell silent, then whispered, I cant kick her out onto the street.
So you can kick me out?
Youre not on the street, youre at Mums!
I want to go home! To my flat!
So come back! Emily isnt opposed to it.
Opposed? She told me Im a temporary wife, shes the permanent sister!
James frowned. She said that?
Word for word!
Shes not doing it out of malice shes emotional, you know
Emotional! You know what, James? Live with your emotional sister! Im going to Mums, and not for a month, but forever!
Rachel, what are you saying?
I grabbed my bag and walked out. James didnt follow. I turned, saw him standing with his shoulders slumped, then he turned and walked back to the flat. Not to his wife, but to his sister.
I caught a taxi and drove to my mothers house. Susan met me with a flood of questions. I poured out everything, tears spilling.
Oh, love, she sighed, hugging me. I told you James was a mamas boy, or rather a sisters boy!
I tried to be kind, to help Emily, and she calls me temporary!
Shes a piece of work. I remember at your wedding she never let James hand go. She clung to him like a bride.
I thought of that night. Shed been odd, laughing one minute, crying the next, claiming shed lost her brother. Id brushed it off as nerves.
What now? I asked.
Nothing. Live here. Let James sort it out.
I fell asleep in my old bedroom. My phone buzzed nonstop. James kept calling, texting, but I ignored him.
The next morning Emily messaged, Rachel, dont be mad! Ive baked a cake!
I blocked her number.
A week passed. I went to work, then to Mums each evening. James called daily, begging me to return, promising to deal with Emily. I stayed silent.
Then my friend Claire called.
Rachel, why arent you living at home?
How do you know?
I walked past the block yesterday and saw Emily on the balcony waving, shouting about a housewarming.
A housewarming, I repeated, feeling the anger rise again.
I drove to Kings Road, climbed the stairs, and opened the flats door.
The place was unrecognisable. Emily had rearranged the furniture, hung her own curtains, placed her knickknacks everywhere.
Oh, Rachel! she said in a cozy robe. Missed you!
What are you doing?
Just making myself at home. James said its fine.
Wheres James?
At work. Anything else?
I entered the bedroom. The bed was covered with Emilys sheets.
Youre sleeping in our bed?
And where else am I supposed to sleep? On the sofa? Im not a guest!
You are a guest! A temporary one!
James told me I could stay as long as I like!
James! James! I shouted, pulling Emilys belongings off the bed. This is my flat too! Get out!
Emilys face went pale.
You have no right to evict me! The lease is in Jamess name!
But Im his wife! I have a right to live here!
Then live! I dont mind, theres plenty of space!
I dont want to live with you!
I dont care! Im not going anywhere! My flat is under repair!
Then find somewhere else to live!
What? I have no money!
Get a job!
Im looking, but havent found one yet!
How convenient! I snatched my bag. You know what, Emily? Live here alone with James. Im never coming back.
I stormed out, slammed the door, and got into my car.
James called that evening.
Rachel, Emily said you came by. She said you shouted at her.
Shouted? She moved all our furniture! Shes sleeping in our bed!
Well, its more convenient for her
Convenient? For me?
Come back, well sort it out.
Theres nothing to sort! Either Emily leaves, or Im out.
Shes my sister! I cant throw her out!
And you could lose me?
James fell silent.
Thats the answer, I said, hanging up.
A month later Emily was still in the flat. James kept visiting me, pleading for me to return. I refused.
Emilys friend Lena finally rang.
Rachel, can we meet?
Why?
We need to talk about Emily.
We met at a café. Lena looked serious.
Rachel, I have to tell you something. Emily orchestrated all this.
What?
She deliberately flooded her own flat, broke the pipe, just so shed have an excuse to move in with James.
I was stunned. What?
She confessed to me. She was tired of being alone, wanted to be near her brother, and blamed you for stealing him away.
I didnt know
Shes always hated you, called you a homewrecker. When you married James she went into a fullblown tantrum.
How can I trust James now? I asked.
Lena showed me screenshots of Emily bragging about the plan, about forcing James to let her stay and watching me disappear.
Thanks, I said. Can you send them to me?
She did.
I showed the messages to Susan, then called James.
Come over. Now.
He arrived half an hour later. I handed him the phone. He read, his face turning ashen.
Its true? he asked hoarsely.
Yes. She flooded her flat to force her way into ours and push me out.
James sank into a chair.
I had no idea
You know now.
God, Rachel, Im sorry! I was a fool. I thought I was helping my sister.
She used you.
What do I do now?
Kick her out. Immediately.
James nodded, stood up.
Should I go with you?
No. Deal with her yourself. Shes your sister.
He left. I collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted.
James returned late, looking gaunted, eyes red.
Did you get her out? I asked.
I did. She cried, swore everything was a lie, but I showed her the messages. She admitted it.
What then?
She said she hates me, that I ruined her life, called me a traitor.
And you?
I said Im done. Shes no longer my sister.
I looked at James. He seemed genuinely remorseful.
James, you realise you almost lost me? I said.
I do. Ill never forgive myself.
Ill come back, on one condition.
Whats that?
Emily never sets foot in our home again, under any excuse.
I promise.
A week later I moved back in. James had cleared the flat, returned the furniture, tossed out Emilys stuff.
Im sorry, he said as I crossed the threshold. I was a blind idiot.
It was, I agreed. But youve changed. I hope it stays that way.
Emily kept calling for a month, but James never answered. Eventually she fell silent. Lena later told me Emily had finally moved back to her own flat, found a job, and was living alone.
Its a shame, I said.
Its not, James replied. She chose this path. She could have worked, built a life, but preferred to leech and manipulate. She got what she deserved.
I nodded. Pity for people who exploit kindness is misplaced.
We never spoke of Emily again. We built our own life, made plans together. James transferred the lease into both our names so I felt fully owning the home.
The green sofa wed fought over three months ago still sat in its place, but now only the two of us ever sat on it.
In the end, I learned that love and trust are fragile, and protecting your own peace sometimes means setting firm boundaries, even with family. Only by standing up for yourself can you keep a home that truly feels yours.
