23March
Today I stood on the threshold of my motherinlaws flat, key in hand, and for the first time in years I felt a quiet certainty settle over me. No fear, no guiltjust a cool, clear resolve.
Emily, Ive changed my mind, Margaret said, her voice trembling. Youve been living here rentfree for three years. That ends today.
How can you say that, dear? she whispered, as if pleading. Where shall I go? Im family to you!
My family is the one who respects me, I replied calmly. Not the one who calls me lazy.
She tried to smile, but a flash of contempt flickered in her eyes.
Did James tell you that? she asked, snorting. Hes young and hotheaded; he says things without thinking. Ignore him, Emily!
No, Margaret, I said, voice hardening. Hes only echoing what youve been feeding him for yearsshe doesnt work, she lives off his back, shes become spoilt. Do you realise how absurd that sounds?
Her face went pale.
I I only wanted what was best for you
Splendid, I raised an eyebrow. From now on, best will be yours as welljust in a different house.
When James returned that evening the flat was eerily silent. A modest dinner lay on the table, neatly covered with a cloth, and beside it a slip of paper.
Since you wanted me to work, Ive taken a job. The flat on Sunflower Road is now let. Mum can move in with you. The key is on the hall table. Emily
James read the note once, then twice, then a third time, disbelief etched on his face.
What nonsense he muttered, already dialing his mothers number.
Mum? Are you at home?
Home?! Margaret shrieked into the handset. Get me out of here! Ive gone mad! I told him to pack my things and half an hour later some man turned up with a leasenew tenants!
Wait what? She really handed over the flat?
Yes! I have witnesses!
Dont move a muscle, Im coming right now!
I stormed into the Sunflower Road flat. The lingering scent of yesterdays stew still hung in the air, but the hallway was already cluttered with boxes and suitcases. A young couple stood in the living rooma bespectacled lad and a girl with honeyred hair cradling a tabby cat.
Excuse us, who are you? the young man asked politely.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I fumbled for my phone and called Emily.
What on earth did you do?! I snapped when she answered. You handed over the flat my mother was living in!
Yes, she replied evenly. Even the lazy need to earn a penny, dont they?
Dont joke with me! I shouted. Where is my mum supposed to go then?
At yours, of course. Youre the man, the head of the household. Prove it.
Emily my voice cracked. Dont you think youve gone too far? Were family, after all.
She let out a thin laugh, void of any warmth.
Family? When I worked myself to the bone, I was your servant. When I stopped, I became the lazy one. Now Im simply myself.
What will you do now? I asked, desperate.
Ill work. But for myself, not for you.
A month later I had rented a small office in the city centre and started a modest interiordesign businesssomething Id always loved but kept postponing. The first clients came through a friend, then by word of mouth, and the work finally picked up. Each morning I woke with a smile, feeling for the first time that I was living my own life.
James, meanwhile, tried at first to win me over. He sent messages, called, threatened, then begged. He complained to his mates that my wife has gone mad and thrown my mother out. Eventually the noise faded. His mother moved in with him in their cramped twobed flat; money was always tight. At work James suddenly found himself redundant and was let go.
One Saturday afternoon he gathered the courage to knock on my door. Laughter and a mans voice drifted from inside. When I opened the door, James froze.
Emily stood there, composed and beautiful, beside hertall, polishedpartner holding a bouquet.
James? she asked, genuinely surprised. What are you doing here?
He remained silent for a long beat.
I wanted to talk. Maybe we could sort things out.
Emily looked him over, then exhaled slowly.
James, for years I tried to please you. Now, finally, Im happy. You know why? Because of that wordlazy. It was the push I needed to wake up.
She smiled softly, no malice in her eyes, only peace.
I wish you all the best, James. And the same for your mother.
The door shut gently. James stood alone on the staircase, his gaze fixed on the sign by the entrance: Your Home Real Estate.
From inside came a faint chuckle.
Thats when I understood: a home isnt a flat, a mortgage, or a name on a doorbell. A home is wherever you can breathe easy. And that home is now mine.
Lesson: Freedom begins the moment you stop letting others define your worth.
