Perfect Timing for Your New Home! My Sister-in-Law Shared Exciting News About Expecting a Baby and Moving In with You in the Countryside, But I Quickly Set Her Straight!

When we first laid eyes on that redbrick cottage in the rolling hills of the Cotswolds, I felt it was destiny. Two storeys, high ceilings, large sash windows that looked out onto a neat garden exactly what we had dreamed of. It needed a cosmetic refresh, but after selling our modest flat in London we still had enough pounds to cover the work.

Eleanor, can you imagine the life well have now? Max said, wrapping his arm around me at the doorway. Fresh air, quiet, space for children one day

I nodded, taking in the spacious sittingroom with its stone fireplace. No neighbours on the next plot, no clamor of traffic, just our own little world.

The next two months vanished in a blur of demolition and repainting. Max proved to be a natural he hung wallpaper, painted the walls and even fitted the new pendant lights himself. I handled the interior design, picking out furniture, curtains and the small touches that made a house feel like home. By late summer the cottage was unrecognisable.

Its time for a housewarming! Max announced, admiring our labour.

We invited friends and family. Our best mate, Sarah, kept gasping at every corner. Eleanor, this is a proper palace! How lucky you are! she exclaimed. Maxs mother, Margaret, toured every room, eventually declaring, Well done, dears! This is what a home should be, not those sleek flats in the city. Even Maxs father, usually a man of few words, gave a short speech about the importance of having land under ones feet. My own parents were equally proud.

The evening was spent barbecuing in the garden, sipping wine and laughing. At last we had what we had chased for so long.

A week later Margaret called, her voice unusually excited. Eleanor, I told Alison about your cottage. Shes thrilled and says shell come to see it. Alison, Maxs younger sister, lived in York with her husband Victor. We spoke only on holidays, so the invitation felt more polite than intimate.

When Alison arrived two days later she was not alone she was heavily pregnant. Surprise! she shouted from the car. Youre going to be an aunt and an uncle soon! Max beamed, as always close to his sister. I, however, felt a knot form as I saw the mountain of suitcases theyd hauled in, as if they intended to stay for good.

Victor was a quiet, decent man who worked in sales and earned a respectable wage. Alison, by contrast, was loud, emotional and loved being the centre of attention. What a house you have! she gushed, stepping into the sittingroom. Our cramped twobed flat is a nightmare the upstairs neighbours drill every night! I showed them around, served dinner, and watched Alison clutch her belly, moaning about morning sickness while Victor ate in silence.

When the meal ended, Alison asked, Where shall we sleep? I was taken aback. In a hotel, perhaps, or you could go back home? she laughed, Were not just dropping in for a night. The cottage is perfect for us fresh air, space for the baby.

My throat tightened. Alright, I said calmly, you may use the guest room. The small, cosy chamber on the second floor was prepared with fresh linens and towels. Alison complained at once about the firmness of the mattress, the pillow, the draft from the window.

The first day passed without incident, but the next morning marked the start of a true trial. Alison turned the TV up to full volume at seven, then spent half an hour in a hot shower, draining all the warm water. She then descended to the kitchen, commandeering every pot and pan to fry a baconandegg breakfast while leafing through a magazine.

Sorry, Eleanor, she called over the clatter, Im on a pregnancy diet, need special meals. The sink overflowed with dirty dishes, the stove was splattered, crumbs dotted the floor and oil dripped everywhere. When I asked if shed wash the dishes, she waved me off, Nausea, Ill do it later. The plates stayed untouched; I had to wash them myself.

Victor spent the day on his laptop in the lounge, never lifting a cup, never offering help. Alison roamed the house, leaving her belongings in every room, and by evening the cottage resembled a student flat left for a week. Max arrived home exhausted, barely noticing the chaos.

Hows it going? he asked, kissing my cheek.

Fine, I replied, my voice tight.

Later, after dinner, I pulled Max aside. Max, it feels like they intend to stay here for the whole pregnancy, maybe even longer. Thats five months at least. He tried to reassure me, Theyll leave soon, just a short stay. Yet they did not leave. Weeks passed, and Alison grew comfortable, inviting her friends over. Eleanor, can Maya and Olivia crash here for a night? Theyd love to see the place, she asked, already dialing.

The following Saturday, three loud, giggling women in their twenties arrived, snapping photos by the fireplace, setting up a makeshift photoshoot in the garden, and uncorking champagne. They turned the sittingroom into a party hall, music blaring, wine spilling onto the white tablecloth. I tried to hint at our responsibilities, but they were deaf to it. By morning the house was littered with dirty crockery and stained fabric.

Alison, perhaps you should warn guests beforehand? I suggested.

She shrugged, We dont throw parties every day. A pregnant woman needs a bit of fun.

Days turned into a month. Alison rearranged the furniture without asking, used my cosmetics, and left dishes wherever she pleased. Victor smoked on the balcony, tossing ash into flower pots, and watched football late into the night, oblivious to the noise.

Max noticed my irritation but kept quiet. Bear with it a little longer, he urged. Shes pregnant; its hard for her. I snapped back, Hard for me? Im cleaning up after grownups all day! This is our home, not a B&B.

The final straw came when Alison stumbled into my bedroom and tried on my old wedding dress, the one I had treasured since my own wedding. Eleanor, does this suit me? she asked, pulling the fabric over her rounded belly. The dress ripped at the seams, a smudge of foundation stained the lace. My heart shattered; that dress was a heirloom I intended to pass to my future daughter.

I locked myself in the bedroom and wept until Max tried to comfort me. It wasnt just a dress it was a piece of my past, now ruined by thoughtlessness.

The next morning I resolved to draw a line. When Alison came down for breakfast, I was ready. Alison, we need to talk, I said firmly.

What about? she asked, buttering her toast.

Im tired of being your housekeeper. Youve been here for a month, youve damaged my dress, you treat my home like a free boarding house. Either you behave like respectful guests, or you pay for the room, utilities and food.

She gasped, Youre asking me to pay for staying in my brothers house? Max entered, sensing the tension.

Whats happening? he asked.

Your wife is kicking me out! Alison wailed, tears streaming. She wants me to pay for staying in my brothers home!

Max looked between us, bewildered. Eleanor, what does this mean?

It means I will no longer tolerate this rudeness. Ive spent a month cleaning after adults who act like children. This is my home, not a hostel, I replied.

Alison shouted, Its my brothers house! I countered, No, its ours. Max and I bought it together, renovated it together, and we will not let anyone destroy it.

Max tried to mediate. Ladies, lets not fight. Alison, perhaps you could help with the cleaning Alison snapped, Are you taking sides against your own sister?

Your sister? I whispered, Max, I am your wife, not a stranger.

Maxs face reddened as he realized the rift widening. Eleanor, she didnt mean that I pressed, She means she can do whatever she likes in our home, trash my things, treat it like a pigsty, and call me a stranger.

The argument escalated until I told Max, If they dont leave today, Ill pack my bags tomorrow and go back to my parents. I wont stay in a house where Im not respected.

That seemed to shock Max into action. Alison, perhaps you should return to York? he suggested quietly.

How could you? Alison shrieked, Youre throwing me out?

Im not throwing you out. Im asking you to understand that this is our home, and we set the rules, I said.

Alison threw a chair, stormed out and, within half an hour, packed her suitcases with Victor. She left, slamming doors, shouting that she would never forget this betrayal.

Before they left, Alison paused in the lounge, eyes red, and said, Max, I hope you realise what youve lost. He replied calmly, I almost lost you because I didnt set boundaries earlier.

She glared at me, You destroyed our family. I answered, I protected mine.

After they were gone the house fell quiet again. I spent the day scrubbing every surface, erasing the traces of their stay. In the evening Max and I sat on the back porch, sipping tea and watching the garden glow in the twilight.

Eleanor, Im sorry, he said. I should have stood up for you from the start.

Its alright now, I replied, smiling. Our family is us, and thats what matters.

Our mother, Margaret, called occasionally, hoping to smooth things over, but I made it clear that Alison could visit only as a guest, never as a resident.

Six months later Alison gave birth to a son. Max visited with presents, but she never returned to our cottage, and honestly I welcomed the peace. Our home remained our sanctuary, quiet and filled with love. The ordeal brought Max and me closer; we both learned that a family is the one you build, not just the one youre born into.

Looking back now, I realise that sometimes you must be firm to guard your happiness. I have no regrets.