Listen, Im not looking for a fight, the motherinlaw said, her eyes narrowed. Youre the one whos making this a battle. Live peacefully in your flat nobodys going to throw you out. And stop tyrannising my son. If I have to, I can split you two up. Where will you go with the baby then? Lets try to get along, Emma?
***
Emma sat at her desk, eyes glued to the screen. A sudden burst of colour appeared on the table a bouquet of fresh red roses. She looked up and saw Leonard, the new recruit in their department, blushing as he offered them.
This is for you, Emma, Leonard said, cheeks flushing.
Thanks, but you didnt have to, Emma replied, keeping her tone even.
Since his first week Leonard had been dropping small gestures: bringing her coffee, slipping a compliment. Emma brushed them aside, pretended not to notice. He wasnt her type a quiet, bookish sort.
During lunch, their colleague Megan sidled up to her.
Emma, why are you turning your nose up at Leonard? He seems decent.
Its not my sort, Emma said. Hes too calm for me.
Calm is reliable. You cant find many lads like that these days. And hes got his own flat, which is rare at his age.
His flat, you say? Emma mused, the idea of a place of his own flickering in her mind. Property mattered; a roof over ones head was a cornerstone of any future partnership.
That evening Emma stayed late to finish a crucial report. As she gathered her things, Leonard approached.
Emma, may I walk you to the car?
Thanks, Leonard, but Ive got a taxi.
Just to the taxi, then. He persisted. On the short walk he talked about his hobbies, his work, his plans. Then, out of the blue, he asked her out on a date. Emma hesitated, then agreed it was a chance to see him better, especially after Megans flat remark.
***
The first date was in a cosy café. Leonard turned out to be an engaging conversationalist.
Where do you live? Emma asked, trying not to sound too eager.
In my own flat, Leonard said proudly. My parents helped me buy it when I finished university.
Thats brilliant, Emma replied sincerely.
After a few more meetings Emma began to notice qualities in Leonard shed missed before: he was attentive, dependable, a good listener, honest and respectable. Her friends and family warmed to him as well.
One evening she asked, Leonard, what do you dream about?
I dream of a family, a house, kids, he answered. A warm, cosy home.
A house sounds lovely, but first we need a flat, Emma pointed out.
Weve already got that, Leonard smiled. So we can start thinking about a proper home.
A year later they were married in a modest yet heartfelt ceremony. They moved into Leonards flat. Emmas happiness swelled shed married a good man and they owned a place together.
Two years on, their son, Jack, was born. Emma was overjoyed; Leonard proved to be a caring, devoted father. Their lives blended seamlessly, and Emma never regretted her choice.
One night, as they tucked Jack into bed, Emma broached the subject of a second child.
Leonard, I think its time we think about another baby.
Another one? he asked, surprised. But Jacks still little.
I want a daughter, Emma confessed. We have the money, the flat why not sell this place, buy something bigger?
Money, yes, Leonard agreed. But the flat
What about the flat? Emma pressed.
Its not really mine, Leonard said quietly, eyes dropping. My parents put it in my fathers name when they helped buy it.
Emma stared, stunned. What do you mean its not yours? You said they helped you buy it!
My dads name is on the deed, Leonard whispered. They wanted a safety net in case of a divorce, so I never told you.
Emma felt the world tilt. She sank onto the bed, fighting back tears.
Youve been lying to me all this time? Why? she asked, voice trembling.
I didnt lie, I just left out details, Leonard replied. My parents asked me not to mention it. They feared youd marry me for the flat. I know now you love me, not the property.
What now? Emma asked, eyes rimmed with tears. What do we do?
We love each other, we have Jack. My parents cant take the flat away from us. Well live as we have.
What if they need it later? Or give it to my sister? Emma snapped. How can you stay so calm?
Believe me, they wont, Leonard said, voice pleading. I swear.
Please, Emma, calm down, he tried to hug her. Everything will be alright.
No, Leonard, nothing will be alright. You hid the truth. You lied!
The night ended in a violent argument. Emma barred Leonard from the bedroom; he spent the night on the sofa.
***
Three days passed in a cold silence. Leonard went to work, Emma cooked, ironed shirts, and they moved around the flat like ghosts. Leonard tried repeatedly to start a conversation, but Emma ignored him, turned away whenever he approached, especially when he tried to hold Jack. She would snatch the boy and retreat to another room. All she wanted was news that the flat had finally been transferred to Leonards name then she could sell the twobedroom flat, buy a threebedroom house, maybe even a cottage on the outskirts.
Instead, Leonard returned with no good news. Emma never confronted the motherinlaw directly, but Mrs. Clarke, Leonards mother, arrived one afternoon while Leonard was out, intent on a chat.
Whats happening here? Mrs. Clarke asked. Jack seems unsettled, you look worried, Emma.
Nothing, Mrs. Clarke, Emma snapped, trying to keep her voice steady. Were fine. I dont know why Leonard is so gloomy.
Youre lying, Mrs. Clarke replied, narrowing her eyes. Why are you after a flat that isnt yours? You live here peacefully, were not going to evict you, your husband, or our grandson. What are you doing, stirring up trouble over property?
Emma clenched her fists, forced calm into her words.
Mrs. Clarke, Im not trying to take your flat. Theres a misunderstanding with Leonard. He told me the flat belongs to him, but its actually your husbands. Im worried about my future. If something happens, we cant do anything with the flat. I want a bigger place for two children. Weve saved some money, but not enough for a threebedroom house. If we sell this twobedroom flat, we could maybe afford one. I dont want to beg you for permission to sell. Were a family, we have a child, so I think we should decide where we live.
Mrs. Clarke smiled cruelly. Thats why I kept my son safe, she said. Do you really think Im naïve? You think Id fall for a modest programmers charms? I wont believe you married Leonard out of love. The flat will never be sold, no matter what. It stays in my husbands name. If you think you can get half of it in a divorce, youll be disappointed. Save your money, contribute to the household budget, then maybe youll have a say.
She leaned in, voice low. You came here ready to fight, to wield rights you dont have. Im not trying to argue with you, Emma. Live peacefully, I promise no one will kick you out. If you start causing trouble, Ill make my son divorce you. I have the leverage.
With that, Mrs. Clarke left. Emma exhaled heavily, shoulders slumping as she headed to the kitchen to make dinner. She thought, Fine, Ill have to make do. Leonards a good husband and earns decently. The flat may never be sold, but well keep saving. One day well have that threebedroom house, and Ill push him to make it happen. Emma resumed her routine, the fire in her chest now banked into quiet resolve. She stopped pressing Leonard about the flat, but her dreams of a larger home, of roots and space for another child, never faded. She began setting aside money quietly, paycheck by paycheck, into a separate account he didnt know about. She smiled at him again, held his hand, kissed him goodnightnormalcy restored, but carefully rebuilt. And when Jack turned three, she handed Leonard the keys to a small mortgage plan shed arranged, eyes bright with determination. “We’re starting our own future,” she said. “Together. Leonard stared at the keys, then at her, his eyes wide with disbelief and pride. “You did this… for us?” he whispered. Emma nodded, her smile steady. “For Jack. For the daughter well have one day. For the home well buildours, not inherited, not borrowed, but earned.” He pulled her close, holding her tightly as if anchoring himself to this moment. In the quiet of their flat, beneath the weight of unspoken battles and silent compromises, something new had taken rootnot just a plan, but a promise, quietly kept, fiercely begun.
