Either You Let My Brother Move Into Our Flat, or Pack Your Bags and Get Out!” He Demanded

“Either you let my brother move into your flat, or pack your things and get out!” snapped James.

Emily had stayed two hours late at work. Two new clients had booked appointments after glowing recommendations from friends.

“We only want you, Ms. Harding! You’re hands down the best stylist in town!” Those words had kept her smiling all the way home.

Maybe it really was time to take the leap and open her own salon. Enough waiting for “the right moment.”

Lost in thought, Emily barely noticed reaching her doorstep. Inside, unfamiliar voices buzzed from the flat. She pushed the door openand froze. A battered rucksack slumped in the hallway. Mud-caked boots. The sour stench of whiskey hung in the air.

“Em, look whos back! Its Liam!” James emerged from the kitchen, grinning like it was good news.

His younger brother slouched on the sofa, staring blankly at the coffee table. The same Liam whod vanished four years ago to chase some nightclub dancer.

“Hey,” Liam muttered without glancing up.

“Mum, whos that?” whispered Charlotte, fresh from ballet class, gripping her schoolbag tighter.

“Your uncle Liam, love. Your dads brother.” Emily forced calm into her voice. “You were too little to remember when he left.”

“Whys he so weird?”

“Go to your room, sweetheart. Well talk later.”

In the bathroom, Emily splashed water on her face. The mirror reflected dark circles, roots needing a touch-upbut all she could think about was how James had barely spoken for a month after Liam left. How hed blamed their parents for driving him away. Now here he was, acting like it was Christmas morning.

James followed her into the bedroom, hesitating before speaking. “Hes staying with us. Just for a bit. Hes in a bad way, Em. His wife cheated. Parents wont take him.”

“You decided this alone? Didnt think to ask me?” Emily spun around. “How is that fair?”

“What was there to discuss? Hes my brother. Hes got nowhere else.”

“Weve got a teenage daughter! Have you seen the state of him? You think its okay for her to”

“Thats why he needs us! Family sticks together.” James met her eyes for the first time all evening. “You know I cant turn him away.”

“How long?”

“As long as it takes.”

“And what about Charlotte? Her exams are”

“Enough!” Jamess shout rattled the lampshadea first in fourteen years. “Hes my blood. I wont abandon him.”

Emily opened her mouththen stopped. Something in his tone, like a door slamming shut.

“Fine,” she said, turning to the window. “But he doesnt drink here. And he finds a job.”

James left without answering. Through the wall, she heard murmured kitchen conversation. Deliberately too quiet.

Midnight came and went. Emily lay awake, tracking footsteps as James paced the flatmaking up the guest bed, no doubt.

“Itll all work out,” he whispered, slipping under the covers. But Emily wasnt so sure anymore.

***

Breakfast reeked of stale alcohol. Emily fried eggs silently, ignoring the bottles cluttering the table.

A month in, their kitchen had become a 24-hour pub for two.

“Bye, Mum.” Charlotte sidestepped her snoring uncle, clutching her schoolbag. Lately, shed been staying late at friends housesanything to avoid home.

Emily watched her flee, fury simmering. This “temporary” guest had dismantled everything: family dinners, movie nights, bedtime chats with Charlotte.

“Morning.” James emerged, tie knotted. “Coffee left?”

“Pots cold. Listen, we need to”

“Not now. Late for work.” He gulped the bitter dregs and winced.

“When, then? Youre always late. Or with Liam.”

James paused at the door. “Whats that supposed to mean?”

“That we cant bankroll a grown man forever!”

“Hes depressed, Em! Cant you see hes shattered?”

“And what about us? Charlotte wont even come home! Youve changed. I dont even know you anymore.”

James set down the mug. “Well talk tonight. Calmly.”

“No. Now.” She blocked the door. “I want Liam gone in a week. Flat, jobI dont care. But not here.”

“Youd throw my brother onto the street?” His jaw tightened.

“Id stop us being his free B&B! He hasnt even tried”

“He needs time!”

“How much? A year? Forever?” Her voice cracked. “Do you even see what this is doing to us?”

“And do you see hes family too? I wont fail him like our parents did!”

“So thats your choice?” Tears spilled over.

“Its not a choice. Its duty. But youd never understand.”

The door clicked shut behind him. Liams snores rumbled through the flat. Emily sank onto a chair, staring at Jamess abandoned coffee.

He used to kiss her goodbye every morning.

***

Days passed in silence. Emily left early, returned late. James pretended not to notice, staying up with Liam, laughing over stories she wasnt part of.

Charlotte tiptoed around them, met with brusque “Were fine, darling”s.

At night, Emily strained to hear kitchen whispers: “She doesnt get it family first youre too soft on her”

***

Friday, James came home early. Liam dozed; Charlottes music thumped behind her door.

Emily stirred soup, the rhythm steadying her.

“Sorted it,” James leaned in the doorway. “Compromise.”

She kept stirring. Silence had become safer.

“Liam can stay at your place.”

The spoon stilled. That flat was her safety netleft by her godmother, always hers to decide.

“Its rented,” she said evenly.

“So? Give notice. Whats the issue?”

“Those tenants paid a year upfront. Two little kids. I wont do that.”

“Fine. Then Liam stays here. End of.” James turned. “Your call!”

Emily wiped her hands slowly. “Youd really evict a family for him?”

“What choice do I have? Hes finally pulling himself together!”

“By mooching off us?”

Jamess fist slammed the counter. “Dont you dare talk about him like that!”

Emily studied himthe rage, the refusal to see. This wasnt just helping Liam. It was a line drawn.

“Alright,” she said softly. “I understand.”

James blinked, thrown by her calm. “Whats that mean?”

“It means Ive made my decision. Dinners ready. Call your brother.”

Upstairs, she dialed her solicitors number, whispering through Charlottes door: “Itll be alright, sweetheart. Mummys got this.”

***

Three weeks passed. Emily took extra shifts, signed up for courses.

Charlotte stayed at Grandmas”revision,” she claimed.

James didnt argue. Evenings now belonged to football takeaways and laughter she wasnt part of.

Every morning brought new mess: pizza boxes, cigarette butts in mugs.

Then one day, James burst in, beaming. “Hes moving out! Got himself a job!”

Emilys cup trembled. Hope flickeredmaybe she wouldnt need those papers after all.

“Brilliant,” she managed.

“Just needs a leg up. Ring your tenants tomorrow, yeah? Months notice. Well cover their moving costs.”

“Weve been over this. No.”

Jamess chair screeched back. “Hes trying, Em! Have you no heart?”

“No. And I wont uproot children for a man who wont grow up.”

The mug exploded against the wall.

“Right then,” James hissed. “Either you give Liam the flat, or get out.”

Emily wiped spilled tea, eerily calm. “I made my choice weeks ago.”

His face paled. “What?”

“Divorce papers. Filed already.” She slid a blue folder across the table. “And this?” She tapped a second envelope. “Sale agreement for my flatthe one you wanted for Liam. Nearly finalised.”

James collapsed onto a chair.

“Last thing.” A third envelope. “My share of this house. Live here with Liam, your mateswhoever. Im done.”

“Youre mad! This is our home!”

“Was. Before you turned it into his hostel.”

“Em, please”

“No, James.” She stood. “Im tired. Of your weakness. Your blind loyalty. The stink of whiskey in my kitchen.”

Liam shuffled in, bleary. “Whats going on?”

“Nothing new,” Emily said, gathering the papers. “Some men would rather lose their family than admit