While Im still living with Mum, my sisters coming over, announced Simon, stuffing my things into the old leather suitcase.
You cant be serious! Its Tuesday, Lucys at school!
Your mother will pick her up after lessons, Ive already arranged that.
Arranged? Without me? Simon, whats happening?
Natalie stood in the middle of the bedroom watching her husband methodically fold her clothes into the battered suitcase. He pulled sweaters, shirts, jeans from the wardrobe without even looking at her. His motions were crisp, rehearsed, as if hed rehearsed this exact scene a hundred times.
Nothings happening, he replied evenly. Irinas staying for a week, she needs a spare room. You know she cant stand any noise, and Lucys been blasting music from dawn till dusk.
What does Lucy have to do with it? Irina could stay in a hotel! Or crash on the couch!
Simon finally met her gaze. In his eyes shone something Natalie had never seen before a cold detachment.
On the couch? My sister in a hotel? Natalie, are you hearing yourself? This is my house, by the way.
Our house, she whispered.
Mine, snapped Simon. Bought with my money. I decide who lives here.
A tight knot rose in Natalies throat. Twentythree years of marriage. Twentythree years of running this home, raising Lucy, cooking, cleaning, waiting for him after work. And now he was packing her belongings as if she were a temporary lodger.
How long? she asked, voice trembling. How long do I have to stay at Mums?
A week, maybe two. Irina hasnt decided yet. It depends on how things go.
What things? Shes on holiday!
Simon slammed the suitcase shut, buckling the locks.
Not your business. Pack, Ill drive you in an hour.
He left the room, leaving Natalie alone on the bedroom floor. She sank onto the edge of the bed, staring at the suitcase the same battered case theyd taken on their honeymoon. Back then it was shiny and new, stuffed with her dresses and his shirts. Now it was being used to evict her from her own home.
Margaret met her at the front door with a sour look.
Well, look who finally showed up, love?
Mum, please, Natalie muttered, dragging the suitcase into the flat.
How could I not? I told you it would happen. I said it when you got married, I said it when we bought the house in his name. Listen to your mother!
Margaret, at seventytwo, was a woman of iron rules and even sterner judgments. Her mind was as sharp as her tongue, often feeling like too much for Natalie.
Mum, Ill just stay the night. It wont be long.
Oh, just a night. Ive heard that one before. First a week, then a month, then youre filing for divorce. Your sisters arrived, you know which one the one who was last seen at your house five years ago?
Natalie said nothing and slipped into the old bedroom, now turned into Margarets wardrobe and magazine stash. The single narrow bed from her teenage years was still there.
Have a cup of tea, Margaret softened. You look pale. No breakfast?
Im not hungry.
Ten minutes later Natalie was at the kitchen table with a steaming mug and a toast, Margaret perched opposite, studying her.
Somethings up, Margaret said. He wouldnt just throw you out.
He didnt throw me out, he asked to stay with you.
Im seventytwo, Natalie, but Im not losing my mind. Men dont evict wives without a reason. Either theres someone else or money troubles.
He has no one else.
And how do you know that? You sit at home all day. He works from sunrise to midnight. Did you check his phone?
Mum!
Naïve, you always have been.
Natalie finished her tea and rose.
I need to pick up Lucy. Shes out at three.
Simon promised to collect her.
Ill collect her myself.
Lucy, fifteen, was a carbon copy of Natalie chestnut hair, grey eyes, a stubborn set to her mouth. She stormed out of school with her friends, laughing, but when she saw her mother her face hardened.
Mum? Wheres Dad? He was supposed to pick me up.
Ive decided for us, Natalie said, hugging Lucys shoulders. Lets go and talk.
They walked through an autumn park, Natalie explaining the temporary stay with Grandma, the sister Irinas arrival, and that it would be short.
He kicked you out, Lucy said flatly.
No, its just
Mum, Im fifteen, not five. I get it. Hes kicked you out of the house and me with you.
Lucy, dont say that.
Lucy turned, face serious.
How else to put it? The truth. Ive noticed hes been acting oddly for a month. Hiding his phone, disappearing at night. Do you see any of this?
I
Im not blind or deaf. Two nights ago he spent an hour in the bathroom chatting with someone, thinking we were asleep.
Natalie froze, her legs feeling weak.
What was he talking about?
I didnt catch the words, just the tone. He was laughing. When was the last time you heard your dad laugh like that?
Natalie was silent. She truly couldnt remember.
In Margarets flat they found the kitchen already set with two plates, a pot of borscht, and potatoes with meatballs Margarets signature comfort food. The television was ready for a romance film.
Id rather stay in my room, Lucy dumped her backpack. I have homework.
Homework on a day off? You should be relaxing!
Lucy slipped away to the spare room, leaving Natalie alone with her mother.
Shell understand, Margaret whispered. Shes clever. You cant hide anything from her.
They ate in silence. The borscht was thick and hearty, the potatoes fluffy, the meatballs juicy, but Natalie forced each bite down.
Call him, Margaret said suddenly. Ask how hes doing, mention the sister. Let him know you havent given up.
I dont want to call.
You must. A man cant be left unchecked.
Natalie didnt call. Not that night, not the next. She went through the motions helping Margaret, picking Lucy up from school as if life were paused, waiting for a cue.
Three days later her friend Emma rang.
Nat, where have you vanished to? Ive called a hundred times!
Sorry, my phone was on silent.
Listen, is it true Simons seeing some other woman?
Natalies heart stopped.
What? Where did you hear that
Emma saw them at the new restaurant on Garden Street. He was holding her hand, kissing her cheek. She thought it might be his sister, but said she looked about thirty, not his sisters age.
Which restaurant?
The one everyones raving about, the pricey one we never set foot in.
Natalie hung up, hands shaking. The truth was staring her in the face. Margaret was right, Lucy was right. He had a other.
Why are you so pale? Margaret asked, entering the kitchen.
Mum, can I go back home? I need to fetch something.
Margaret gave her a long, assessing look.
Go. Just dont make a scene. Find out whats really happening first.
Natalie caught a bus, trying to steady her nerves. Maybe it was a mistake, maybe Emma had misread. Deep down she knew it was real.
A sleek white foreign car was parked outside the block. Natalie climbed the stairs, fumbled with her keys, her hand trembling as she slipped the metal into the lock.
The flat smelled of expensive perfume, a scent Natalie had never worn. Laughter drifted from the living room a womans.
She slipped off her shoes, tiptoed down the hallway. The livingroom door was ajar.
There, on the sofa, sat a young woman with long blonde hair, barefoot in a white nightgown. A glass of wine and a bowl of fruit lay on the coffee table. Beside her, Simon was stroking her arm, murmuring something soft.
You promised she wouldnt be back for a week, a gentle voice said.
Shes at your mothers, I checked, Simon replied.
And the daughter?
Shes there too. Dont worry, love. Its just us.
Natalie stood frozen, legs refusing to move. The word traitor rang in her head, over and over.
When will you tell her? the woman asked.
Soon. First we need to sort the paperwork on the house so she cant claim anything.
Clever, the woman kissed Simons cheek.
Natalie turned and fled toward the exit. She had to get out, fast, before they saw her.
The keys clattered as she slipped them back into her bag. Footsteps echoed from the living room.
Natalie? Simons voice sounded surprised.
She didnt look back. She slammed the door behind her and bolted down the stairs, stumbling over the banister, heart pounding.
Outside she stopped, gasping for breath, tears blurring her vision. Passersby glanced her way, but she didnt care.
She didnt return home until dusk. Margaret met her at the doorway, worry etched on her face.
Whats happened? You look shaken.
Natalie slipped inside, stripped off her coat, and collapsed on the bed. Lucy peeked in, but Margaret waved her away.
An hour later a frantic knock came. Margaret opened the door, only to hear Simons strained voice from the hallway.
You cant come in!
Margaret, I need to speak to Natalie, Simon pleaded.
She wont talk to you.
Ill ask myself.
He pushed past the matriarch and entered the flat. Natalie lay staring at the ceiling.
Natalie, lets talk, he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Leave.
Its not what you think.
Really? she stared at him. Tell me, Simon, whats this all about?
Ira shes my work assistant. Shes here to help with paperwork.
In a nightgown? Barefoot? With wine?
He stayed silent.
I heard everything, Natalie went on. The papers, the plan to keep me from anything. Do you think Im a fool?
Natalie
Twentythree years, Simon. Twentythree years Ive been your wife, raised your child, kept this house running, and you treat me like a guest you can evict for a fling?
Shes not a fling!
Then who?
Simon paced, hands clasped.
Fine, Ill be honest. I met Rita half a year ago. She works at the office down the road. We got together. I didnt plan it, it just happened.
Just happened, Natalie repeated. Twentythree years didnt just happen, then a sudden oops.
You dont understand! I dont feel the same as before. Were like flatmates. When was the last time you asked about my work? My day?
You came home, ate, went to bed. What else is there to ask?
Exactly! You never tried. Rita she listens, she gets me.
Shes young and pretty, thats all, Margaret interjected from the doorway. And you, Simon Vaughan, are just a dogold man. Sorry, but its true.
Margaret, this isnt your business!
How isnt it? Shes my daughter!
And my wife! I have the right to decide who I live with!
You have that right, Natalie said calmly. Not in my house.
Simon smirked.
In your house? Im the legal owner. The sole proprietor.
We bought it together. Its joint property.
Prove it. Got money for a solicitor? Time for court?
Natalie had none. Shed been out of work for ten years, living on a modest pension and the occasional help from Margaret.
Thats why Im looking for work, Simon said, heading for the door. Dont play the victim. You brought this on yourself.
The door slammed. Natalie sat on the bed, staring at nothing. Margaret wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
Dont cry, love. Hes not worth it.
Natalies tears had already dried. All that was left was a numb emptiness.
The next days were a blur of picking Lucy up from school, cooking with Margaret, trying to read. All the while the question loomed: what now?
You need a solicitor, Emma said when they met for tea.
How will I pay?
Ill lend you what I can. You have a right to half the house.
The house is in his name.
Doesnt matter. You were married when you bought it. Its joint equity.
He says I cant afford a court battle.
You have the truth. A good solicitor will prove it.
Natalie wanted to believe, but years of Simons dominance had taught her not to argue. He always decided where to live, how to spend money, where to go on holiday.
Mum, Im fed up, Lucy said one evening. I want to go back home.
We cant, love.
Why? This is our home! Why are we living with that that woman and Dad?
Because Dad decided so.
And you? Did you decide that too?
Natalie looked at her fourteenyearold daughter, who seemed wiser than most adults.
I dont know what to do.
Then Ill tell you. We have to go in there and kick her out. This is our house, Mums too, and even Grandmas, in a way. He just handed it over to some stranger!
Lucy
No, Mum! I wont stay quiet! Youve endured his shouting over undercooked soup, forgotten birthdays, drunken threeam visits. Youve suffered enough. And look at the result!
How do you know all this?
Im not deaf, Mum. I heard you crying in the kitchen, thinking I was asleep.
Natalie hugged Lucy, feeling the warmth of a true embrace for the first time in weeks.
Im sorry, my sunshine.
No apologies. We need to act.
The next morning Natalie, for the first time in a week, put on makeup, a smart coat, and a pair of sensible heels. Margaret gave her an approving nod.
Much better. Where are you off to?
To a solicitor.
Emma gave her the address of a nearby law office. Marina Patel welcomed her, listened attentively, and took notes.
Its a classic case, unfortunately. He thinks that because the title is in his name he can do whatever. Thats not how the law works. The house was bought during the marriage, so its marital property. You also have a minor child, which weighs in your favour.
I have no money for court fees.
The first consultation is free. If we win, hell cover the costs. Dont worry.
You think well win?
I do. The law recognises your contribution.
Natalie left the office feeling a glimmer of hope.
When she got back, Lucy was waiting, eyes red from crying.
Dad called. He said if you dont give up the house hell take away our parental rights.
What?!
He said Im an unfit mother, that hell separate us.
Margaret tried to reassure her.
Hes bluffing. He wont dare.
Natalie knew Simon would do anything to get his way.
That night she lay awake, thinking of the house, Lucy, the future. She realised the house wasnt worth losing her daughter.
In the morning she phoned Simon.
Im fine with you keeping the house, she said.
He was silent for a moment.
Smart choice, he finally replied. Ill arrange child support for Lucy.
I dont need your support. Just leave us alone.
She hung up. Margaret stared, bewildered.
What have you done?
Chosen. Between the house and my child.
But thats your right!
My right is to protect Lucy, not to be dragged through courts while my father shouts at me.
Margaret sighed.
Perhaps youre right. Its a shame, all those years in that house.
It was a shame, but Natalie wasnt in the mood for pity. At fortyfive, with an old qualification and a decade out of the workforce, she started hunting for jobs. Within a week she landed a parttime position in a small boutique. The pay was modest, but it was something.
The job was tough long hours on the floor, demanding shoppers, a fussy manager yet each day it got a little easier. She learned, adapted, found a rhythm.
Youve done well, Margaret said when Natalie brought home her first paycheck. Im proud of you.
Lucy also helped around, doing chores, studying well, and seemed to mature fast.
Mum, you know what? she said one evening. I like it here. Grandmothers place feels cosy, and the three of us are actually happy.
Natalie hugged her daughter. Yes, happy, despite everything.
Three months later Natalie was promoted to senior sales assistant. Her salary rose, and she began saving for a tiny flat of her own.
One day Simon walked into the boutique with the same woman, Rita, browsing dresses. Rita twirled before the mirror, Simon watching with admiration.
Natalie approached with a professional smile.
Good afternoon, how can I help you?
Simon turned pale on recognition.
Natalie? You work here?
Yes, She smiled politely, thanked him for his purchase, and walked away knowing she had finally reclaimed her own story.
