Clear a room in the house; my parents will be living there now, my husband said, presenting the decision as if it were already settled.
Ethel was bent over her ledger when a knock sounded at the office door. Arthur peered in, his eyes sweeping the familiar space with a newly calculating gaze.
May I come in? he asked, already stepping across the threshold.
She nodded without looking away from the paper in front of her. The cottage had come into her possession from Aunt Maud five years earlier. It was bright, roomy, and held three separate chambers. Ethel had turned one of those chambers into the perfect studyorder and quiet ruled there.
Listen, Arthur began, perching on the edge of the settee, my parents are grumbling again about the citys hustle.
Ethel finally turned to him. After a decade of marriage she could read his tone like a wellworn map. There was a hint of doubt in his voice now.
My mother says she cant sleep because of the noise, he continued. And my father keeps saying hes tired of all the running about. On top of that, the rent keeps climbing.
I see, she replied curtly, returning to her numbers.
But the subject of his parents would not be left. Each evening Arthur found a fresh excuse to bring up their troublessometimes the smog, sometimes noisy neighbours upstairs, sometimes the steep staircase in the block.
They long for peace, you know? he said once at dinner. A real home, not just a roof over their heads.
Ethel chewed slowly, thinking. Arthur was never a man of many words; his sudden focus on his parents woes felt out of place.
So, what do you suggest? she asked, careful.
Nothing special, he shrugged. Just thinking about them.
A week later Ethel noticed Arthur entering her office more often than before. At first it was under the pretext of searching for a document, then simply because he chose to be there. He would pause by the wall as if measuring something with his eyes.
Nice room, he remarked one evening. Bright, spacious.
Ethel looked up from her papers. There was an appraisal hidden in his tone.
Yes, I like working here, she answered.
You know, Arthur said, moving to the window, perhaps you could shift your study to the bedroom? You could set up a desk there as well.
Something tightened inside her. She set her pen down and stared at him.
Why should I move? Its comfortable here.
I dont know, he mumbled. Just thought about it.
The thought of moving lingered. Ethel began to notice how Arthur scanned the office, mentally rearranging the furniture, lingering at the doorway as if already picturing a different layout.
Listen, he said a few days later, isnt it time to free up the office? Just in case.
The suggestion sounded as if it were a given. Ethel flinched.
Why should I free up the room? she asked, sharper than she intended.
Just thinking, Arthur hesitated. I thought we might need a room for guests.
She understood then. All the talk about his parents, all the casual remarks about the office, were pieces of one planone that never asked for her input.
Arthur, she said slowly, tell me straight. Whats happening?
He turned his back to the window, avoiding her eyes. Silence stretched. Ethel realised that a decision had already been madewithout her.
Arthur, she repeated firmly, whats going on?
He finally turned, his face flushed with embarrassment, a spark of resolve flickering in his eyes.
Well, my parents are really fed up with the city, he began cautiously. They need peace, you see?
Ethel rose from her desk, anxiety bubbling inside her, a feeling she had tried to ignore for weeks.
And what do you propose? she asked, though she already guessed.
Were one family, Arthur said, as if that explained everything. We have an extra room.
Extra. Her study, her sanctuarynow an extra room. Ethel clenched her fists.
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 sounded rehearsed. Ethel realised this conversation was not the first of its kind.
Arthur, this is my house, she said sharply. I never agreed to your parents moving in.
But you dont mind, do you? he retorted, irritation creeping in. Were family, after all.
Family. As if belonging to a family automatically stripped her of a voice. Ethel stepped toward the window, trying to steady herself.
And what if I do mind? she asked without turning.
Dont be selfish, Arthur snapped. Its about elderly people.
Selfish. For not surrendering her workspace. For expecting her opinion to be heard. Ethel faced him.
Selfish? she repeated. For wanting my say?
Come on, he waved a hand. Its a family duty. We cant abandon them.
Family duty. Another pretty phrase meant to shut her down. But Ethel was no longer willing to be silent.
And what about my duty to myself? she asked.
Stop dramatising, he waved off. Its not a big deal, just move the computer elsewhere.
Not a big deal. All those years of carving out the perfect study, dismissed as trivial. Ethel suddenly saw Arthur as if for the first time.
When did you decide everything? she asked quietly.
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 words. Ethel sank back into her chair, trying to process the betrayal.
So you consulted everyone except me, she stated.
Stop it, Arthur exploded. What does it matter who talked to whom?
What matteredher opinion, her consent, her homewas swept aside. She realised he was acting as the owner, ignoring her ownership.
The next morning Arthur entered the kitchen looking like a man who had already made a final decision. Ethel sat at the table with a mug of tea, waiting for the continuation of yesterdays argument.
Listen, he began without preamble, my parents have finally decided to move.
Ethel looked up. There was no room for discussion in his tone.
Clear a room in the house; now my parents will live there, he added, as if issuing an order.
For Ethel, that was the moment of revelation. They hadnt even consulted her. Her husband hadnt just failed to askhe had excluded her entirely.
The mug trembled in her hands. Everything turned over as she grasped the magnitude of the betrayal. Arthur stood, waiting for her reaction as if commanding a servant.
Are you serious? she said slowly. Youve taken it upon yourself to decide for me? I told you yesterday Im against it!
Calm down, he waved off. Its logical. Where else can they go?
Ethel set the mug down and stood, her hands shaking with accumulated anger.
Arthur, youve betrayed me, she said plainly. Youve put your parents wishes 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!
Arthur turned away, clearly not expecting such a reaction. All those years she had complied with his decisions, and now something had broken.
You treat me like staff, she continued. Youve decided I should endure in silence.
Stop the hysteria, he snapped, irritated. Nothing serious is happening.
Nothing serious. Her opinion dismissed, her space takenyet he called it nothing serious. Ethel stepped closer.
I refuse to give up my room, she declared firmly. And I will not let your parents move in without an invitation.
How dare you? Arthur exploded. They are my parents!
And this is my house! Ethel shouted. I will not live with a man who sees me as nothing!
Arthur stepped back, taken aback by the fire in her eyesa fire he had never seen before.
You dont understand, he began, confused. My parents are counting on us.
And you dont understand me, Ethel cut in. Ten years and you still treat me like a toy.
She crossed the kitchen, gathering her thoughts. Words that had been building for years finally burst out.
You know what, Arthur? she said, turning to him. Leave my house.
What? he stammered. What are you talking about?
Im no longer willing to live with a man who doesnt consider me, Ethel said, slowly and clearly.
Arthur opened his mouth but found no words. He had not anticipated such a turn.
This is our house, he muttered.
Legally, the house belongs to me, Ethel reminded him coldly. I have every right to ask you out.
He stood as if the statement were a shock, realising he had crossed an invisible line.
Ethel, lets talk calmly, he tried. We can reach an agreement.
Its too late, she replied. The agreement should have been made before you decided.
Arthur tried to object, but the stubborn set of her jaw left him speechless. Ethel was no longer the compliant wife who offered concessions.
Pack your things, she said calmly.
A week later Ethel sat in her study, enjoying the quiet. The house felt larger without the strangers. The order she prized was finally restored.
She felt no regret, only a settled sense that she had done right. For the first time in many years she had defended her boundaries and selfrespect.
The telephone rang. It was Arthurs number. Ethel declined the call and turned back to her work. Love and family cannot survive without respect, and no obligation to relatives gives anyone the licence to trample on the person beside them.
She finally understood that.
