“Your family isnt our problem,” declared her husband as he packed his suitcase.
“Lily, did you send them money *again*?” James stood in the bedroom doorway, a bank receipt in hand, his face tight with frustration.
“Mum needed medicine, and her pension barely covers anything,” Lily replied softly, not looking up from the ironing. The steam hissed as she smoothed out his white shirt, though her hands trembled slightly.
“How much longer can this go on? Every month its somethingmedicine for your mum, repairs for your sister, school fees for your nephew!” He tossed the receipt onto the dresser. “Were barely making ends meet ourselves, and youre supporting half your family!”
Lily set the iron down and turned to face him. Tears welled in her eyes, but she kept her voice steady.
“James, shes my *mother*. She raised me alone after Dad left. Worked two jobs so I could finish university. How can I not help her now?”
“Helping is one thing, but *this*” he jabbed the receipt, “is too much. Three hundred pounds in a single month! We couldve put that toward a proper holiday instead of dragging ourselves to your relatives cottage every summer.”
Lily hung the shirt in the wardrobe, her fingers lingering on the fabric. Theyd been married three years, and the arguments never changed. At first, James had been understanding, even kind to her family. But something had shifted.
She remembered last year, when her mum had been hospitalised. The doctors said she needed surgerysix months on the NHS waiting list, or £2,000 privately. Lily had sold her jewellery, taken out a loan. James only found out later.
“You didnt even *ask* me!” hed shouted. “Am I not your husband? Or does my opinion mean nothing?”
“She couldve *died*,” was all Lily could whisper.
“Your family isnt our problem,” hed said then, too, packing a bag. “If youd rather be with them, go ahead.”
Hed stayed with his parents for a week. When he returned, hed apologisedsaid he understood her mum meant everything to herbut begged her not to spend like that without discussing it first.
“Lily, are you even listening?” Jamess voice snapped her back.
“I am,” she nodded. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to realise *were* the family now. Husband and wife. Not you, your mum, your sister, and that whole crowd. *I* have dreams tooa new car, a house in the countryside. But our money vanishes into thin air.”
Lily sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped. James was handsome, successfula manager at a top firm. When theyd met, hed seemed like a prince: roses, fine restaurants, sweet words. Hed even embraced her family ties.
“You used to say family was sacred. Remember?” she murmured.
“I meant *ours*,” he said flatly. “Not… all of *them*.”
Her phone rang. Her sister, Emma.
“Hello?” Lily answered, eyeing James.
“Lily, its awful,” Emmas voice wobbled. “Jacks had an accident. Hes fine, but the cars totalled. It was brand newon finance. Now hes got no car *and* debt.”
“Oh God,” Lily paled. “Is he really alright?”
“Just bruises. But hes devastated. Talking about joining the army, like hes some failure.”
“Emma, breathe. Well figure it out. Hes safethats what matters.”
“Lily… could you lend us anything? Even a bit would help with payments.”
Jamess stare burned into her. She turned toward the window.
“Lets talk tomorrow, alright? I cant think straight now.”
As she hung up, James crossed his arms. “Dont even *think* about it,” he said coldly.
“Hes my *nephew*. I held him as a baby when Emma was working”
“I dont care. Im *done*. Every week its someonedentist bills, roof repairs, tuition. When do *we* get to live?”
Lily walked to the window. Children laughed in the courtyard below. Shed once been that carefreebefore her mums health failed, before Emmas divorce left her struggling with two kids.
“Remember our first visit to Mums?” she asked quietly. “She cooked all dayroast beef, Yorkshire puddings. You said her mash was the best youd ever had.”
“Lily, dont change the subject.”
“Im not. Im remembering. She was so happy Id found a good man. Said, *Lily, he looks at you like youre gold. Treasure each other.* She gave you that jar of strawberry jam you lovedsaid her door was always open.”
“That was years ago,” he muttered.
“Three. Is that so long?”
He avoided her gaze, studying the wall.
“James, what changed? Why are you so different now?”
“Im not. I just see were being used. Your mum, your sisterthey know you wont say no.”
“*Used?*” Her voice broke. “Mum worked herself to the bone for me. When I had pneumonia at uni, she took unpaid leave, stayed by my bed for *weeks*. Emma? When her husband left, who helped her stand again? Me. *Us.* Is that being *used*?”
James stayed silent. Lily picked up the receipt.
“Three hundred pounds,” she said. “Mum needed a private cardiogramNHS wait was a month. Medicine: a hundred. Emmas wages were cut when her youngest was illI gave her the rest.”
“Enough,” James sighed. “It always comes back to me being the villain. But maybe I just want a *normal* lifeone where we come first.”
“And dont we *have* that?”
“No!” he exploded. “Every weekend at your mums. Every holiday with your family. Half my salary gone. When do *we* get to be happy?”
Lily stared at her hands. It was true. But how could she abandon the people whod never abandoned *her*?
“I cant leave Mum,” she whispered. “Shes alone. She has no one but me and Emma.”
“You have a husband. Or *had*.”
The words struck like ice. James yanked open the wardrobe, shoving clothes into his suitcase.
“Youre leaving?”
“Thinking about it. Im tired of feeling like an outsider in my own marriage.”
“James, we can compromise”
“*How?* You help them *less*? See them *half* as much? Thats no solution.”
“Then what do you want?”
“A life. *Our* life. Kids. A home. Instead, were funding everyone elses.”
“Theyre not *everyone*,” she said, tears falling. “Theyre my *family*.”
“Not mine.” He zipped the suitcase. “Your family isnt our problem.”
Lily watched numbly as he left. The engine roared, then faded.
Her phone buzzedEmma: *”Any news? Jacks panicking. Maybe well visit tomorrow?”*
She didnt reply. In the kitchen, the kettle whistled. Dusk painted the room in shadows.
She thought of her mum, waiting for a visit. Of Emma, drowning in bills. Of Jack, scared hed never succeed. Of James, whod wanted only *them*.
Her heart split in twoone half tethered to her past, the other to the man she loved.
The phone lit up againMum: *”Darling, youve been quiet. Miss you.”*
Lily dialled.
“Mum, hi. How are you feeling?”
—
**Lesson:** Love often demands impossible choicesbut true bonds endure when rooted in understanding, not ultimatums.
