What do you mean, ‘there’s nothing cooked for dinner’? We didn’t come here just for you!” the father-in-law exclaimed, plopping down at the bare table.

What do you mean theres nothing for dinner? We didnt come here for your sake! Jamess fatherinlaw protested, sinking into the empty chair at the kitchen table.

I dont get why you put up with this, Claire, Emilys colleague, said, shaking her head. I would have drawn a line a long time ago.

Emily sighed, stirring her tea. The lunch break was winding down, and confiding in her friend had offered no relief.

You know, sometimes I feel like Im living in a public thoroughfare, Emily said, pushing her cup aside. Imagine: I come home after a meeting, barely able to stand, and there are my motherinlaw and her friend in the kitchen having teaas if it were their home! And James never warned me.

What did you do?

What could I do? I smiled, of course, put the kettle on and fetched some biscuits

Claire shook her head. Youve been putting up with this for five years.

Emily pressed her fingers to her temples. The dull headache that had been her constant companion for months returned.

James says I should be happysays his parents treat me like a daughter.

Do they visit often?

At least three or four times a week. Especially my fatherinlawhe loves dropping by unannounced. Hell stroll in, plop himself in the armchair and start, Back when I was your age and hell always ask whats for dinner.

At that moment Emilys phone buzzed. James had texted that his parents would be over that evening to discuss weekend plans.

Look, Emily handed the phone to Claire. He doesnt ask, he just states it as a fact.

And the flat is yours, right? Claire asked, squinting.

It is. I bought it before we marriedtook out a mortgage thats buried me up to my ears. Three more years to go. I dont take a penny from James. My dad kept nagging, If you divorce, youll have to split the house. So I pay for it myself and keep every receipt.

And they know that?

Of course. It means nothing to them. Robert, Jamess dad, said outright, Now this is the family nest.

The workday trudged on. Emily tried to focus on reports, but her mind kept drifting to the evening ahead. After talking with Claire, something inside her cracked. She had managed to convince herself everything was fine, that this was how a family should be. Now she felt the illusion shatter.

At six oclock Emily packed up and decidedtonight she wouldnt cook. Let them feel, at least once, that she was a person, not a perpetual housekeeper.

When she got home she headed straight for the shower, then slipped into something comfortable. She avoided the kitchen entirely, settling into her favourite armchair with the novel shed been meaning to finish for months.

The doorbell rang at seven. On the doorstep stood Robert, newspaper tucked under his arm, and behind him Margaret, his wife, holding a bag of sunflower seeds.

Weve come to see you! Margaret announced cheerfully, making a beeline for the kitchen.

Emily gave a silent nod. Robert, still wearing his street shoes, drifted into the sitting room and sank into the armchair as usual.

Whats for dinner? he asked, unfolding the paper.

Nothing, Emily replied curtly.

Robert lowered the paper. Nothing? Dont just stand there like a statue! Get something on the stove!

The front door slammed as James burst in.

Hey, everyone! he called from the hallway. Oh, Mum, Dad, youre already here!

Margaret poked her head out of the kitchen. James, love, were here and theres nothing on the table.

Nothing? James frowned, looking at Emily. You knew my parents were coming.

I knew, Emily said calmly. You told me at lunch.

So what? You could have thrown something together. It wouldnt be the first time.

Emily saw Margaret exchange a knowing glance with her husband.

Exactlyit wouldnt be the first, Emily rose from the armchair. Or the tenth. Im exhausted being a roundtheclock cafeteria.

Darling, what are you saying Margaret began.

Im not your darling! Emilys voice trembled. I have a name. I have my own life. I have my own flat, for that matter!

Emily! James stepped forward. Stop the hysteria!

Hysteria? Emily laughed bitterly. You call it hysteria when, after five years, I finally say no?

Robert flamboyantly folded his newspaper. You know, James, I always said youd spoiled her. Look at the result.

And you Emily turned sharply at her fatherinlaw, then fell silent, a lump rising in her throat.

Whatme? he raised an eyebrow. Go on, finish what you started.

Emily clenched her fists. Five years of bottled resentment surged up.

You treat my home as your own. You drop in whenever you feel like it, give orders, demand food But this is my flat! Mine! I deserve to be alone sometimes!

Margaret threw up her hands. James, can you hear? Shes kicking us out!

Emily, stop this, James grabbed her elbow. Apologise to my parents.

I wont, Emily pulled free. Im done apologising for wanting a normal life, without daily visits and endless instructions in my own home. Im exhausted!

Jamess parents gathered their things and left. Margaret muttered that Emily was ungrateful. For a while the house was quiet, and Emily hoped the storm had passed.

A week later James announced his parents would stay for a couple of days. Emily had just returned from a threeday business triptired, drained by backtoback meetings.

James, I just got off the plane. I need to rest, to pull myself together she began.

You know how much they love coming here, James said without looking up, eyes glued to his phone.

They just love eating for free, Emily thought, but said nothing.

The parents arrived in the evening with two massive suitcases. The sheer amount of luggage put Emily on edge.

Robert marched straight to the living room and turned the television up to full volume. Margaret, coat still on, headed for the kitchen.

Emily dear, were famished after the journey. Do something quick, please.

Im working, Emily replied, pointing at her laptop. My deadlines looming.

Working, she says, Margaret snorted. You could make an effort for your husbands parents.

From the sofa came Roberts voice: By the way, love, could you help me with my phone? The internets gone wonky

I cant right now, sorry, Emily said.

Shes always like this, Robert shouted to his son. No respect for his elders.

James stayed silent, pretending not to hear. Emily clenched her teeth and kept typing. Half an hour later Margarets voice echoed from the kitchen again: Emily! How much longer are you pretending to be busy? Were sitting here starving!

Order delivery, Emily snapped finally. Theres a magnet on the fridge with a menu and a number.

Ugh, Margaret grimaced. We prefer homemade food. In my day, daughtersinlaw

Im not your daughterinlaw from a century ago! Emily slammed her laptop shut. I have my own life, my own job, my own plans! Why should I drop everything whenever you need something?

Silence settled over the room. Even the TV seemed to quiet.

James, Robert said slowly, do you hear how your wife is speaking to us?

Emilys just exhausted, James tried to smooth things over. Ill take care of dinner myself.

No, son, Robert rose, its not about being tired. Your wife has become arrogant. She thinks because the flat is hers she can look down on us.

You know what? Emily stood as well. Yes, its my flat. And I have the right to decide who lives here and when!

Emily! James placed a hand on her shoulder. You could be a little more tolerant! Theyre my family!

Leave me alone, Emily said quietly. I cant do this any longer.

Enough! Margaret cut in sharply. Come on, start cooking if you have time to argue.

Four pairs of eyes bore into Emily. She gave in.

A few days later Jamess parents finally left. Emily hoped peace would return. Two months passed relatively calmly.

One evening, after a particularly gruelling day of meetings, traffic, and a difficult client, Emily unlocked the front door and froze on the threshold. Voices and clatter rose from the kitchen. Robert and Margaret were already spreading groceries across the table, pots lined up, as if they owned the place.

Ah, there you are! Robert shouted, dropping his newspaper. What are you making for dinner today?

Emily set her bag down slowly. Nothing.

James, standing by the window, looked away. Robert frowned: What do you mean, nothing? We didnt come here for you! We came for your food! Get to the stove!

Something snapped inside Emily. The five years of humiliation, endless concessions, attempts to pleaseit had all been for nothing. No one ever saw her as a person.

I see, Emily said, standing tall. So its for the food? I thought youd come to see your son.

Emily, dont start, James tried to intervene.

No, love, Ill finish this, Emily turned to him. This isnt a cafeteria. Not a hotel. This is my home! Mine! And I will no longer let anyone boss me around here.

Margaret threw up her hands. James, do you hear her?

You havent heard me for five years, Emily continued. For five years Ive cooked and endured your visits, and you she looked at James have never once taken my side. Not once!

Because youre wrong! James flared. Youre acting like

Like what? Emily cut him off. Like someone tired of being a servant in her own house?

Robert stood up. Wed better go. We wont stand in the way of your reckoning.

Right, Emily nodded. Leave. And dont come back without an invitation.

Emily! James grabbed her hand. Apologise. Now!

No, Emily pulled away. Enough. Choose, James. Either you start respecting my boundaries or go back to your parentsfor good.

A heavy silence fell. Emily watched James shift his gaze between her and his parents, then back again. At last he lowered his head.

Sorry, Emily. But theyre my family.

And me? Emily asked softly. What am I?

James stared at her, searching for an answer. You wont change your mind? he asked sullenly.

Emily shook her head. She had found the strength to take control of her life and wasnt about to surrender her freedom.

James gathered his coat and followed his parents out. The front door slammed, and the flat fell unusually quiet. Their marriage ended that night.

Emily sank into a chair. Tears didnt come. Instead a strange relief washed over her, as if she had finally set down a weight shed carried for years.

Her phone buzzeda message from Claire: How are you?

Emily smiled and began to type: Can you imagine, I finally.

She realized that standing up for herself was not selfishness but selfrespect, and that a life lived for others never truly belongs to you. The true lesson was simple: love yourself enough to draw the line, for only then can you truly be free.