My Sister-in-Law Wanted to Celebrate Her Anniversary at Our Place and Insisted We Vacate the Flat

Emily, has James already told you? Margaret asked, her voice sharp as a cold wind. Listen well have up to twenty guests, so well start cooking in the evening. Ill be there early, around six.

Emily stared at the steaming pot, eyebrows raised. In the evening? I never agreed to that.

Margaret held up a hand. Hold on, Im not finished. Ive already sent James a shopping list; he promised to buy everything.

James had always been the one to bail out his older sister, Olivia. By the time she turned thirty, shed married twice and divorced twice, each time blaming the wrong man. Their mother, Margaret Whitaker, had drilled into James since childhood: You must look after your sister.

So James did. He handed over cash when Olivia was temporarily out of work, patched up the cracks in her rented flat, and drove her countless times after yet another split. Then he married.

Emily put up with it at first, but when Olivia, for the fifth time that year, begged to borrow their car just for a few days because it had broken down again, Emily said firmly, James, enough is enough. We need the car this weekend. I thought we had plans

James shrugged. Whats the problem? Cant you walk?

Emily snapped, No. The cottage of my parents is a mile away. Theyve sent us two buckets of cucumbers. I thought youd heard me when I mentioned it.

James muttered, I heard something, but Olivias situation is urgent.

Again? What exactly? Emily asked.

James hesitated, Im not sure she just needs more.

Emilys voice hardened. No, James. This stops now! Either you refuse her or you buy me a car. Im tired of the trolley; you could drive me wherever I need to go.

James opened his mouth to call Olivia and refuse, but Margaret cut in, Youd ditch your sister for your wife? Who will help her if not you?

And so James fell back into the same pattern, despite the fights with Emily. One night, after days of silent treatment, James snapped, Why are you quiet? Did I offend you?

Emily shot back, It took you three days to realise that?

Just I cant read your mind, he replied.

Emily laughed, Really? You dont get it? Your sister stole the weekend, saying she needed to get to a friends cottage. I thought youd just give her a lift, yet you stayed two days. Does that bother you?

James tried to explain, She had a former boyfriend over, we had a few drinks, needed to celebrate. I wasnt a fool to drive her then.

Emily retorted, You could’ve at least called.

James shot back, You couldve called too.

Emily snapped, I tried! Your phone was off. Imagine my nerves, not knowing where you were while you decided to take a break from me.

James waved off her anger, gesturing that his phone was ringing. He stepped onto the balcony, picked up the call, knowing any more conversation with Olivia would only anger Emily.

Hey, brother! Olivia chirped. My anniversary is in two weeks thirty years! You get it, right?

James glanced at Emily, who was now spilling soup. What do you want? he asked.

Olivia giggled, You get me! I want to celebrate at your place. Your living room is huge. My rented flat is cramped and the landlords a nightmare. The restaurant is too pricey.

Maybe the café? Ill chip in whatever you need.

Youre joking! Olivia snapped. Its an anniversary! You want me to rent a hall when you have a flat? Im not a millionaires daughter.

James tried to mediate, Let me talk to Emily first. Its her flat too; maybe shes got other plans.

Its too late! Olivia interrupted. Ive already told everyone the partys at your house. Clear the flat for the whole day, okay? Mum will handle the cooking.

James sighed, covering his face with his hand, his mind racing for an escape. The phone buzzed again, this time a text from Margaret: Olivias made a menu. Heres the list of dishes. We need groceries. Ask Emily to help with the cooking.

Meanwhile, Emily, oblivious to Olivias impending celebration, settled into her armchair with the remote, ready for her favourite series. When James entered, eyes downcast, she sensed something was wrong.

What now? she asked calmly, pausing the show.

Emily, listen Olivias anniversary thirty years. She wants to celebrate.

Emily lifted her head. Fine, let her celebrate. Are we banning her?

James rubbed his neck. Its not that. She wants to do it at our place.

What? Emily leapt up. Our flat?

Yes, just one night. She says the restaurants expensive and her place is tiny.

And you agreed? Emily asked.

I said Id talk to you first, but Olivias already invited everyone. Mums already planning the menu.

Emily closed her eyes, breathed heavily. James, are you an adult or just a messenger for Olivias wishes?

James stammered, What are you starting

Starting? Emily said with irony, holding up his phone. And nobody even called me? This is my flat, not a transit point for your relatives. Olivia wants a party here, Im supposed to help her, help your mother, and I wasnt even asked!

At that moment, her phone rang. Ah, the cherry on top, she muttered, waving the device.

Margarets voice crackled, Emily, has James told you? Up to twenty guests. Well start preparing in the evening. Ill be there around six tomorrow.

Emily scoffed, Evening? I never signed up for that.

Margaret pressed on, James already has the shopping list; he promised to buy everything.

Emily shot back, And the money? Where are we supposed to get it?

Margaret replied briefly, James promised to help.

Emily exploded, So you want to turn my flat into a restaurant and expect us to foot the bill?

Margaret tried to defend, Olivias not a stranger! Its just one day, a few salads, sandwiches youre the lady of the house!

Emily cut her off, Margaret, I just learned about this. I never gave permission for Olivias birthday to be at my flat.

Margaret retorted, You call it my flat. You and James are a married couple. Everything is shared!

Emily countered, If it were Jamess flat, youd say the same. Then Id just be a dependent.

Margaret snarled, Enough. Get everything bought by Friday. She hung up.

Emily stared at James, What was that?

James finally spoke, Stop playing the victim! Youve been told youre wrong. Admit your mistake and stop digging your heels in.

Emilys face went pale. She rose, opened the wardrobe, and silently packed a large sports bag with Jamess shirts and jeans. She then moved to the bedroom, opened the chest of drawers, and began folding his clothes with mechanical precision.

Meanwhile, James, feeling triumphant, flung open the fridge, grabbed a bottle of beer, slammed the fridge door, and plonked himself on the sofa in front of the TV as if nothing had happened. He imagined Emily would mellow out, that the storm would pass, and that shed eventually call him to dinner. He was wrong.

Half an hour later, Emily stood in the hallway with a shopping bag, the sports bag overflowing with Jamess belongings beside her. James left the living room heading for the fridge, only to find Emily standing there.

Whats this? What kind of drama have you staged? he muttered.

Emily looked at him coldly, This isnt drama, James. Its the end. Im done being a shadow in my own life, a servant in my own flat, a backdrop for your mothers and sisters whims. If you want to be a good son and brother, go back to your mother. Start preparing for the party together. Im sure shell gladly give you a corner in her living room.

James took a step forward. Youre serious? Im not going back.

Emily nodded, Absolutely serious. I dont want you returning. Ive tolerated enough that I now even question myself. But Ive had enough. If you cant learn to respect me in three years, it will only get worse.

Emily you cant ruin everything in one breath! James pleaded.

Its impossible to ruin whats already fallen apart.

James tried to argue, but Emily opened the front door. He stood there, rage burning his cheeks, lips clenched, still hoping shed back down.

Fine then! he shouted. Think youll find anyone better? Youll have to search the whole country for someone like me!

Emily sighed, stepping back, Finding someone like you thank God.

Youll regret this! James shrieked, snatching at the bag. Youll be on your knees when you realise no one wants to talk to you! Without me, youre nobody!

Emily replied coolly, If nobody means a person who lives in her own flat, works, doesnt cater to a husbands relatives, and wont put up with abuse, then Id rather be nobody.

James stormed out, and Emily was left alone. She breathed deeply, pulled the curtains aside, and watched as her exhusband shoved the bag into the boot of a taxi.

Months later, the divorce was a bitter affair. James tried to paint Emily as greedy and materialistic, fighting over the car theyd bought together. He claimed, Your Honour, I paid for the car outright. My wife contributed nothing!

Emily calmly opened a folder, spread out bank statements, transfer receipts, and the signed deposit agreement shed kept. Im not claiming his share, but I wont give up mine, she said. The judge ruled in her favour.

James, now stripped of what he thought was his, left the courtroom with a twisted grin. At home, Margaret shouted, You idiot! You handed her everything the car, the flat! At least get a decent solicitor!

On top of that, James had taken out a loan to fund Olivias restaurant party, using the flat as collateral. Now he slept in a cramped corner of Margarets guest house.

Emily finally slept peacefully. She decided she was still young enough to leave men like James behind. Good men were out there; the key was to recognise whos who in time.