I’m Not a Stranger Here

Dear Diary,

Why do you think you have the right to shuffle my belongings around and thrust me into a situation I havent even discussed? Im asking you! Olivias voice rang out, sharp with outrage.

I, Andrew, cast a guilty look at my wife. I had just hung up after a brief chat with my mother. Now Olivia stood in the doorway, her face set as if she were ready for a duel.

I raised my hands in a conciliatory gesture, trying to calm her down.

Olivia, love, listen Mum is only passing through town on business. She doesnt want to stay in a hotel, you see? Its uncomfortable for her. Shell be with us for a couple of days, at most a week. So, love”

Olivia leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, her dark eyes flashing with displeasure.

You could have warned me ahead of time. You could have asked me, instead of dropping the news a few hours before Mum arrives. Thats not right, understand?

I rubbed the back of my head. The kitchen felt too cramped for this argument, the air thickening with tension.

I know its wrong. I know its inconvenient for you, but Ive already promised Mum. I cant leave her out on the street, can I? Try to see it from my side

Olivia exhaled slowly, massaging her temples. You know how I feel about surprise guests. I dont like strangers in my flat! Ive told you that countless times, yet it seems my feelings mean nothing to you.

I’m sorry, truly, I said, moving closer. It wont happen again, I promise. Just this once

She stared into my pleading eyes and realised I had no choice. The promise was made, and Mum was already on her way.

Fine, she waved a hand. One time only, and thats the last. Guests should visit, not stay for a week! Got it?

Two hours later the doorbell rang. Eleanor, my mother, stood on the threshold with a small suitcase and a travel bag, beaming as if shed just won a lottery. Olivia forced a smile.

Oh, thank you, dear, my mother said, reaching for a hug. I need to get some tests done at the clinic. You know how it is getting older The countryside health centre isnt much, so Ive come to you.

Olivia gave a mechanical embrace, catching the cheap perfume and detergent scent wafting from my mothers coat.

Come in, make yourself at home, she said, taking the suitcase and leading her to the spare bedroom. Your rooms ready, and dinner will be on the table in half an hour.

At the kitchen table my mother chattered away.

Life out in the village is tough, love. No proper GP, no decent pharmacy. An ambulance can take an hour, sometimes more. Weve only got one doctor for the whole lot, and hes not exactly brilliant.

Yes, city life is easier, Olivia replied, ladling mashed potatoes onto a plate.

And where do your parents live? my mother asked, eyes locked on Olivia.

In our twobedroom flat, Olivia replied.

Why the separate flat? I thought you moved out before the wedding.

Olivia set her fork down, feeling the conversation turn sour.

I left home at nineteen when I started work. I wanted independence, you know? To live on my own, not be dependent on anyone. I saved up for a flat bit by bit.

Good for you! my mother exclaimed, overly enthusiastic. Youre so independent, unlike those girls who just perch on a husbands shoulder.

There was a hint of sarcasm in her tone that made Olivia wary, but she brushed it aside.

The week dragged on agonisingly. Every evening Olivia returned from work to discover my mother had helped shed washed the dishes leaving soap spots, rearranged the fridge, opened sealed packets, even tried to wash delicate things in hot water. Olivia had to redo everything, reminding herself it was only temporary.

Do you know when Mum will leave? she whispered to me as we lay down to sleep.

Tomorrow, probably. The test results should be ready by then.

On the seventh day my mother announced over breakfast, The doctor wants a couple more tests. Ill have to stay a few weeks longer, at least for the treatment.

Olivia nearly choked on her tea.

Mum, we could rent you a flat. Well pay for it, no problem. That would be easier for everyone, Olivia suggested, trying to keep her voice steady.

My mothers face changed instantly. What? I dont want to live apart. I came here to see you and my son. Are you trying to throw me out?

No, not at all. Come whenever you like, but living Olivia took a deep breath. Sorry, Im not comfortable with strangers staying in my flat. Its difficult for me.

Im not a stranger! my mother snapped. How can you say that?

Olivia, I interjected, whats the harm in a little patience? Its my mother, remember.

Olivia stayed silent, watching me. I pressed on. Its my mum, love. We cant turn her away.

Olivia rose from the table. This is my flat. I never agreed to a longterm stay. One week is one thing, a month is another.

Youre so selfish! my mother cried, gesturing wildly. My son married an egoist and a shrew!

I turned a shade of red, torn between my wife and my mother.

Olivia, please Its my mother. We cant be cruel.

Olivias voice was firm. The flat is mine. I wont have your mother living here permanently. A week is one thing, a month is another.

No, Olivia cut me off. Im done arguing. If youre unhappy, the exit is that way. Clear?

My mother and I exchanged a look, then withdrew to our separate rooms, the silence hanging heavy.

The next day Olivia returned home early from work, finding my mother perched on the sofa with a triumphant grin.

So, have you thought about your behaviour? Have you reconsidered? she asked, not even greeting me.

Olivia hung her coat in the hallway, counting to ten in her head.

A good daughterinlaw would have apologized by now and said her husbands mother could stay as long as she wishes, my mother continued. She stood and paced the room. Ive even thought about moving out of the village, selling the house, and coming here permanently. Then I could maybe buy a flat nearer you. I need care; at my age its hard to live alone.

Olivia froze, the pieces snapping together the doctors visit, the extra tests, the accidental delay. It was all a rehearsal, a test of the ground.

Alright, Olivia said quietly. So you want to move in for good?

Whats wrong with that? my mother shrugged. Family should live together.

Then Ill state my position once and for all, Olivia said, straightening her shoulders. I will not share this flat with anyone except my husband. If that doesnt suit you, Andrew, you can leave with you and your mother.

Youre saying what? I paled. Olivia, thats my mother!

This is my flat, my life. Choose.

My mother my mother gasped, clutching her chest. Andrew, cant you see? Shes kicking me out!

Its not like that. I suggested a rented flat. No one will live here permanently except me and you.

I bounced between my wife and my mother, my face flushed with anger and confusion.

Fine! I finally shouted. If youre so principled, well go! Pack your things, Mum.

The flat erupted into chaos. My mother and I scrambled to gather her belongings while she continued to chastise Olivia. Olivia, however, stood her ground.

Ill file for divorce! she shouted from the hallway. Hear that? Divorce! Thats the end!

Ill be waiting, she replied calmly.

A month later the divorce was final. There was nothing to split the flat was still under my name, our savings were modest, no children, no joint assets. Friends took sides. Some shook their heads:

Olivia, how could you? The motherinlaw she deserved some sympathy.

But the few whod known her since childhood understood.

You did the right thing, Olivia, said my old friend Charlotte over coffee. It was just the start. First she moved in, then she tried to take control. Those kinds of people need to be shown the door. You cut the rope in time.

Indeed, Olivia agreed. Better to be alone than living under constant tension.

She opened a dating app that evening. Life went on, and now she knows the importance of setting clear expectations from the outset. A prenuptial agreement would be wise, just in case.

Lesson learned: Boundaries must be drawn early, and a home is only a home when both partners respect each others space.