Zyvytsia Wanted to Celebrate Her Anniversary at Our Place and Demanded We Vacate the Apartment

Olivia wanted to celebrate her milestone birthday at their place and demanded they clear the flat.

“Katie, has Oliver mentioned it yet?” her mother-in-law began. “Listen! Therell be up to twenty guests. Well start cooking the evening before. Ill come round early, about six.”

“Evening? Really?” Katie asked sceptically. “No, I never agreed to that.”

“Hold onI havent finished. Oliver already has the shopping list. He promised to buy everything.”

Oliver always helped his older sister, Emily. By thirty, shed been married and divorced twice, and each time, it was the husbands fault”just not the right one.” Their mum, Margaret, had drilled into him since childhood:

“You must help your sister.”

And so Oliver didwhether it was money when Emily was “temporarily” between jobs, fixing up her rented flat, or hauling her things after yet another divorce.

Then he got married.

At first, Katie tolerated it. But when Emily asked to borrow their car for “just a few days” for the fifth time that yearhers “broke down again”Katie spoke softly but firmly:

“Oliver, enough? We need the car this weekend too. I thought we had plans?”

“Cant you manage without it?”

“No. My parents cottage isnt walkable. Theyve picked two buckets of cucumbers for us. Did you even hear me mention this?”

“Well vaguely. But you understandEmilys in a bind.”

“Again? What kind of bind?”

“Not sure,” Oliver stalled, “but she needs it more.”

“No, Oliver. Not this time. Either you say no, or buy me a car. Im sick of taking the bus while my husband chauffeurs everyone else.”

Oliver hesitated, about to call Emily and refuseuntil Margaret swooped in:

“What, youd abandon your sister for your wife? Shes alone! Who else will help her but you?”

And so he did, despite the rows with Katie. Once, they didnt speak for days until Oliver snapped:

“Why the silence? Are you sulking?”

“Took you three days to notice?” Katie shot back.

“I just dont getwhats the problem?”

Katie laughed bitterly.

“Seriously? Your sister hijacked you all weekend because she needed a lift to her friends countryside party. I thought youd drop her offinstead, you stayed two days. Does none of that bother you?”

“Why should it? We had a few drinks. Her ex was therewe got on fine. It was a celebration. Should I have rudely left?”

“You couldve called.”

“You couldve too.”

“I did! Your phone was off. Imagine how that feltno idea where my husband was, while he relaxed away from me.”

“Stop exaggerating,” Oliver dismissed, gesturing to his ringing phone.

He stepped onto the balcony before picking upknowing Katie wouldnt appreciate another Emily call.

“Hey, little bro!” Emily chirped. “My big Three-Ten in two weeks! You get it, right?”

Oliver glanced warily at Katie, ladling soup in the kitchen.

“So what do you want?”

“Youre so quick!” Emily laughed. “I want the party at yours! Your lounge is huge. My rentals cramped, and the landladys a nightmare. Restaurants cost a fortune.”

“What about a pub? Ill chip in.”

“Are you mad? Its my milestone! Why should I pay for a venue when youve got a flat? And youll pay for some of it anywayIm not loaded.”

“Let me talk to Katie first. Its her home tooshe might have plans.”

“Too late!” Emily cut in. “Ive already told everyone its at yours. Clear the flat for the day, yeah? Mums handling the food.”

Oliver sighed, rubbing his face. As he scrambled for a solution, his phone buzzed againa text from Margaret:

“Emilys finalised the menu. Heres the shopping list. Tell Katie to help prep. She can pitch in with cooking too.”

Meanwhile, oblivious to Emilys plans, Katie settled into her armchair with her phone, queueing up her favourite show. When Oliver entered, avoiding her gaze, she knew instantly.

“What now?” she asked flatly, pausing the series.

“Katie, listen Emilys turning thirty. Its a big deal. She wants to celebrate.”

Katie looked up.

“So let her. Whos stopping her?”

Oliver scratched his neck.

“Its not that. She wants it here.”

“Here? In our flat?”

“Just one evening. Says restaurants are pricey, and her place is too small”

“And you agreed?”

“I said Id check with you! But Emilys already invited everyone. Mums planned the menu”

Katie closed her eyes, inhaling sharply.

“Oliver. Are you actually an adult, or just Emilys errand boy?”

“Dont start”

“Im starting?” Katie held up her phone. “Was I even consulted? This is my home, not your familys event space. Emily demands my flat, expects me to cook, and your mum orders me aroundwithout asking?”

Her phone rang.

“Oh, perfect,” she hissed. “Your mum.” She waved it at Oliver.

“Katie, has Oliver told you?” Margaret rattled on. “Twenty guests. Cooking starts the night before. Ill be over by six.”

“Evening? No, that wasnt the deal.”

“WaitOliver has the shopping list. Hes handling it.”

“Fine,” Katie muttered. “Whos paying?”

“Olivers covering it,” Margaret said briskly.

“So youve taken over my flat for a party, and were funding it?”

“Emilys family! Cant you help for one day? Chop some salad, make sandwichesyoure the lady of the house!”

“Margaret,” Katie cut in, “I just found out about this. I never agreed to host Emilys birthday.”

“Stop saying my flat! Youre marriedwhats yours is Olivers!”

“Really? If this were Olivers flat, youd sing a different tune. Then Id just be the freeloader.”

“Dont be absurd. Shoppings due by Friday.” Margaret hung up.

“What was that?” Katie asked, hearing the dial tone.

“Enough with the victim act!” Oliver finally snapped. “Youve been told youre wrong. Admit it and drop the attitude.”

Katie stared. Then she stood, pulled a large duffel bag from the closet, and silently began packing Olivers clothes from the dresser.

Meanwhile, Oliver considered the matter settled. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, flopped onto the sofa, and turned on the football, assuming Katie would “cool off” and call him for dinner.

He was wrong.

Half an hour later, Katie stood by the door, his packed bag at her feet. Oliver wandered over, bewildered.

“Whats this? Some drama?”

“No drama, Oliver. Its over. I wont be a shadow in my own life, a servant in my own home, or a doormat for your familys wants. Be the perfect son and brothergo back to your mum. Plan the party. Im sure shell give you a corner of her lounge.”

“Youre serious? I wont come back.”

“Absolutely,” Katie nodded. “I dont want you to. Ive tolerated too long to respect myself anymore. If you havent learned respect in three years, you never will.”

“You cant just end this!”

“You cant ruin whats already broken.”

Oliver scoffed, still not grasping her finality.

“Your shirts and jeans are here. No need to thank me. Leave now.”

He spluttered, but Katie opened the door. Oliver stood rigid, cheeks burning.

“Fine! Good luck finding better!” he spat, snatching the bag. “Youll come crawling back when no one else wants you!”

“If no one means a woman with her own flat, job, and no tolerance for disrespectthen Ill be happily no one.”

Oliver left. Katie exhaled, watching from the window as he kicked his bag into a taxis boot.

Months passed.

The divorce was ugly. Oliver painted Katie as greedy, especially over the car bought during their marriage.

“Your Honour, I paid for itits in my name!” he insisted. “She just drove it!”

Katie calmly produced bank records: transfers, receipts, even the deposit agreement shed signed.

“I dont claim his share. But I wont surrender mine.”

The court ruled fairly.

Oliver fumed. Hed already considered the car “his.” Now hed have to sell and split the proceeds. Outside the courtroom, his face twisted with rage.

At home, no support