While youre still living with your mother, my sister will be coming over, Edward announced as he gathered my suitcase.
You cant be serious! Its Tuesday, Charlotte has school! I snapped.
Your mother will pick her up after lessons, Ive already arranged it.
Arranged? Without me? Edward, whats happening?
I stood in the middle of the bedroom, watching Edward methodically place my clothes into an old travel case. He pulled sweaters, shirts, jeans from the wardrobe without a glance at me. His motions were crisp, rehearsed, as if hed practiced this moment a thousand times.
Nothings wrong, he replied calmly. Irina is staying for a week. She needs a separate room she cant stand any noise. And we have Charlotte running around all day, music blaring.
Why does it matter that its Charlotte? Irina could stay in a hotel! Or sleep on the sofa!
Edward finally looked up. In his eyes I saw something Id never noticed before coldness, indifference.
On the sofa? My sister in a hotel? Natalie, are you hearing yourself? This is my house, by the way.
My house, I whispered.
Its my house, he cut in. Bought with my money. I decide who lives here.
A tightness gripped my throat. Twentythree years of marriage. Twentythree years I had run this home, raised our daughter, cooked, cleaned, waited for him to come home from the office. And now he was packing my belongings as if I were a temporary lodger.
How long? I managed, voice trembling. How long must I stay with my mother?
A week, maybe two. Irina hasnt decided yet; it depends on how things go.
What things? Shes on holiday!
He slammed the case shut, buckling the locks.
Not your business. Pack your things; Ill have a car ready in an hour.
He left the room, leaving me alone amidst the disordered bed. I sank onto its edge, staring at the battered suitcase the very one we had taken on our honeymoon. Back then it was shiny, packed with my dresses and his shirts. Now it was being used to exile me from my own home.
My mother met me at the doorway, her face sour.
So, you finally showed up?
Mum, please, I muttered, dragging the suitcase inside.
What do you mean please? I told you what would happen when you married, when we bought the house in his name. You ought to have listened to your mother!
Martha, seventytwo, was a woman of strict rules and even stricter judgments. She kept a clear mind and a firm character that often seemed excessive to me.
Mum, Ill just stay the night. It wont be long.
Sure, it wont be long. Ive heard that story a hundred times. First a week, then a month, then youre filing for divorce. Your sister is arriving, you know. The same one who last visited five years ago?
I said nothing, retreating to the old bedroom that now doubled as her wardrobe and a stack of magazines. The narrow single bed, the one I had slept on as a teenager, remained.
Have some tea, she softened, noticing my pallor. You look like you havent eaten.
Im not hungry.
Ten minutes later I was sitting at the kitchen table with a strong cup of tea and a biscuit, while my mother watched me from across.
Somethings happened, she said. He wouldnt just cast you out.
He didnt cast me out; he simply asked to stay with you.
Natalie, Im seventytwo, but Im not losing my mind. Men dont throw wives out without a reason either a lover or money troubles.
He doesnt have a lover.
How do you know? You sit at home all day. Hes at work from dawn till dusk. Did you check his phone?
Mum!
What? Youre naïve. Always have been, always will be.
I finished my tea and rose.
I need to collect Charlotte. She gets out at three.
Edward promised to pick her up.
Ill fetch her myself.
Charlotte, my fifteenyearold daughter, was a mirror of me at that age chestnut hair, grey eyes, the same stubborn set to her mouth. She left school laughing with friends, but when she saw me, her face fell.
Mum? Wheres Father? He was supposed to pick me up.
Ive decided for myself, I said, pulling her into a hug. Come, lets talk.
We walked through the autumn park, and I explained that I would have to stay with my mother, that Aunt Irina was arriving, and that it would be temporary.
He threw you out, Charlotte said flatly.
No, its just
Mum, Im fifteen, not five. I understand. He threw you out, and me too.
Dont say that.
She turned to face me, eyes fierce.
What else can I say? The truth. Ive noticed for a month hes acting oddly hiding his phone, disappearing in the evenings. Do you not see it?
Im not blind, nor deaf.
Two nights ago he spent an hour in the bathroom talking to someone, thinking we were asleep.
My legs gave way.
What was he talking about?
I didnt hear the words, just his tone. He was laughing. When was the last time you heard your father laugh like that?
I fell silent; I truly could not recall.
In my mothers flat we found Martha already had made two beds and prepared dinner.
I love borscht, potatoes with meatballs, she declared cheerfully. Well eat now, then Ill put on a good film about love.
Grandma, Id rather stay in my room, I have homework.
What homework on a holiday? You should be resting!
Charlotte disappeared to the far room, leaving me alone with Martha.
She understands everything, Martha said quietly. You cant hide it from her.
We ate in silence. The borscht was thick, the potatoes fluffy, the meatballs juicy the kind only a mother could make. I forced myself to swallow.
Give him a call, my mother suggested suddenly. Ask how hes doing, mention the sister. Let him know you havent given up.
I dont want to call.
You must. You cant let a man run unchecked.
I never called. Not that evening, not the next. I tended to the house, helped my mother, collected Charlotte from school. Life seemed to pause, hanging on a single thread.
On the third day my friend Olivia rang.
Natalie, where have you vanished to? Ive called you a hundred times!
Sorry, my phone was on silent.
Tell me, is it true Edward is seeing some other woman?
I froze.
What? Where did you hear that
Olivia saw them at the new restaurant on Garden Street. They were together, he was kissing her hand. I thought it might be his sister, but shes young, about thirty.
What restaurant?
The one on the high street, the pricey one we never go to.
I hung up, hands trembling. The truth sank in. My mother had been right, Charlotte too. He had another.
You look pale, Martha observed, entering the kitchen.
Mum, may I go back home? I need to fetch something.
She stared at me long enough to read my thoughts.
Go, but dont cause a scene. First, find out whats really happening.
I rode the bus, trying to steady my mind. Perhaps it was a mistake, perhaps Olivia had misread. Yet deep down I knew it was real.
Outside my building a sleek white foreign car was parked. I climbed the stairs, fumbled with my keys, my hand shaking as the lock clicked.
The flat reeked of expensive perfume, something Id never worn. Laughter drifted from the living room, a womans giggle.
I slipped off my shoes, moved quietly down the hallway. The livingroom door stood ajar.
There, on the sofa, sat a young woman with long blond hair, barefoot in a white coat. Glasses of wine and a fruit platter lay on the coffee table.
Beside her, Edward stroked her arm, whispering something. She laughed, leaning into him.
You promised she wouldnt be back for a week, a soft voice said.
She wont. Shes with your mother.
And the daughter?
Shes there too. Dont worry, love.
I stood frozen, the word traitor echoing in my head.
When will you tell her? the woman asked again.
Soon. First we need to sort the paperwork on the house so she cant claim anything.
She kissed Edward on the cheek.
I turned to leave, but the keys clattered as I slipped on my shoes. Footsteps sounded from the lounge.
Natalie? Edwards voice was surprised.
I didnt look back. I hurled the door open and bolted down the stairs, leaping over steps, nearly falling on the landing.
Outside I gasped for breath, tears streaming. Passersby glanced my way, but I cared little.
I didnt return home until nightfall. My mother met me at the door, worry etched on her face.
Whats happened? she asked.
I slipped inside, stripped off my coat, collapsed onto the bed. Charlotte peeked in, but my mother waved her away.
An hour later a frantic knock sounded. Martha opened the door and immediately slammed it shut.
You mustnt come in!
Mrs. Harris, I need to speak to Natalie, Edwards voice trembled with urgency.
She wont talk to you.
Ill ask myself.
He forced his way in despite Marthas protests. I lay staring at the ceiling.
Natalie, lets talk, he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Leave.
This isnt what you think.
Is it? I asked, meeting his eyes. What is it, Edward? Explain.
Its Irina my work assistant. Shes here to help with paperwork.
In a white coat? Barefoot? With wine?
He said nothing.
I heard everything, I continued. The papers, the plan to keep me from anything. Do you think Im an idiot?
Natalie
Twentythree years, Edward. Twentythree years I was your wife, raised your child, ran this house. And you throw me out for a lover?
She isnt a lover!
No? Then who?
Edward rose, pacing.
Fine, its true. I met Rita half a year ago. She works in the office next door. We got together. I didnt plan it, it just happened.
Just happened, I repeated. Twentythree years didnt just happen, then all of a sudden, you decide to leave.
You dont understand. I dont feel what I used to. Were like flatmates now. When was the last time you cared about my work?
You came home, ate, went to bed. Whats there to care about?
Its exactly that! You never tried. Rita she listens, she understands.
Shes young and pretty, thats all that matters, interjected Martha, standing in the doorway. And you, Edward Harris, are nothing but a brute. Sorry, but its the truth.
This isnt your business, Mrs. Harris!
How is it not? Shes my daughter!
And shes my wife! I have the right to decide who lives with me!
I do, I said calmly. Just not in my house.
Edward smirked.
This house belongs to me. Im the sole owner.
Our marriage gave us joint assets.
Prove it. Do you have money for a solicitor? Time for courts?
I had none. Id been out of work for a decade, living on chores and Charlottes school meals.
Exactly, Edward said, heading for the door. Dont play the victim. You brought this on yourself.
The door slammed. I sat on the bed, staring at nothing. My mother wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
Dont cry, love. Hes not worth it.
I didnt weep. The tears had run dry, leaving only a hollow numbness.
The following days were a strange limbo. I fetched Charlotte from school, prepared meals with my mother, tried to read. My thoughts kept circling back to one question: what now?
You need a solicitor, Olivia said when we met at the café.
With what money?
Well find some. I can lend you a bit. You have a right to half the house.
Its in his name.
Doesnt matter. You were married when you bought it. Its joint property.
He says I cant afford a court.
Its not about money. Its about truth. A good solicitor will prove it.
I wanted to believe her, but years with Edward had taught me not to argue, not to demand. He always called the shots where to live, how to spend, where to holiday.
Mother, Im fed up, Charlotte said one evening. I want to go back home.
We cant, Martha replied.
Why? This is our home! Why are we living here with that that woman and father?
Because father decided.
And you? Did you decide too?
I looked at my daughter. At fifteen she was wiser than many adults.
I dont know what to do.
Then Ill say it. We must go there and drive her out. This is our house, Mums too, in a way. We lived here, we built it. He just handed it over to some stranger!
Charlotte
No, Mum! I wont stay silent! Youve always been silent. When he shouted at you for undercooked stew, when he missed your birthday, when he came home drunk at three in the morning. You endured, endured, endured. And this is the result!
How do you know all this?
Im not deaf, Mum. I heard everything. I saw you weeping in the kitchen, thinking I was asleep.
I embraced my daughter, for the first time in days I truly held her close.
Im sorry, love.
No need to apologise. We must act.
The next morning I dressed more carefully than I had in weeks, put on my best coat and a pair of sensible heels. Mother looked at me approvingly.
Much better. Where are you off to?
To a solicitor.
Olivia gave me the address of a modest office. Marina Peters, a solicitor, welcomed me, listened attentively to the whole tale.
Its clear, she said, taking notes. This is a typical case. He thinks ownership gives him free rein, but the house was bought during marriage, so its joint. You have a minor child, which works in your favour.
I have no money for court fees.
The first consultation is free. Well file a claim, and if we win, hell cover the costs.
Do you think well win?
I do. The law is on your side.
I left her office feeling a lightness I hadnt felt in months.
But when I got back, Charlotte stood at the doorstep, eyes red.
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.
My world tilted.
Hes bluffing, Martha said. He wouldnt dare.
I knew he would. Edward always got his way, whatever the price.
That night I lay awake, thinking of the house, of Charlotte, of the future. I realised the house wasnt worth losing my daughter.
In the morning I called Edward.
Ill agree. The house stays with you.
He was silent for a moment.
A wise decision, he finally said. Ill arrange child support for Charlotte.
I dont need your support. Just leave us alone.
I hung up. Mother stared, bewildered.
What have you done?
I made a choice. Between the house and my child.
But its your right!
My right is to protect Charlotte, not to be dragged through courts and insults.
Martha sighed.
You may be right. Its a shame, after all those years.
It was a shame, but I could no longer indulge in pity. At fortyfive, with an old diploma and no recent work experience, I began looking for a job. Within a week a shop in a high street clothing store had a vacancy for a sales assistant. The pay was modest, but it was something. I passed the interview and started work.
It was hard standing all day, demanding customers, a fussy manager but each day grew easier. I learned, adapted, found a rhythm.
Youve done well, Martha said one afternoon, when I brought home my first paycheck. Im proud of you.
Charlotte helped around the house, studied well, and didnt whine. Mum, you know what? I like it here. Its cosy with Grandma, and the three of us get along fine.
I huggedAnd as the spring sun filtered through the kitchen window, I finally felt the quiet, steady promise of a new beginning.
