Chapter 2
Series 1 Chapter 2
“You knew I wouldn’t agree,” I said.
Mark rubbed a hand over his face. “I knew you’d make it into something bigger than it needed to be.”
“You gave away our bedroom without asking me.”
“I was trying to avoid a fight.”
“You didn’t avoid it. You made sure it happened after your family was already inside my house.”
“Our house,” he corrected.
“Then why was I the only owner who wasn’t consulted?”
His jaw tightened.
“We’re married, Claire. I didn’t think I needed written permission to make one room change for three nights.”
“It wasn’t your permission to give.”
I bent to pick up my mother’s blue suitcase. That was when I noticed the canvas bag beside it.
My toothbrush, skin care products, phone charger, and the paperback I had left on my nightstand were all inside. Someone had gone through our bedroom and packed for me.
“Who did this?”
“Brooke asked Daniel to bring our things down.”
Before I arrived. Before anyone told me what they had decided.
They had removed every practical reason for me to say no, then waited until Daniel’s girlfriend was settled in my room. Refusing now would make me look as if I were throwing Emily out personally.
It was neat. Efficient.
And cruel.
I lifted both bags.
“Where are you going?” Mark asked.
“To put my things back.”
He followed me upstairs. “Claire, don’t turn this into a scene.”
“The scene started before I got here.”
Brooke saw me enter the kitchen and immediately set down her wine.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking my things back to my room.”
Her eyes moved to Mark, not me.
“Emily’s already unpacked.”
“Then she can pack again.”
Emily sat at the far end of the island. Her cheeks flushed, and she stared at her hands.
Brooke stepped into my path.
“The room is ready. Daniel bought flowers, Emily’s clothes are in the closet, and everyone knows the arrangement. Do you really want to make her feel unwelcome over a bed?”
“Emily didn’t move my things. You did.”
“I was helping.”
“By packing my toothbrush?”
Evelyn entered from the living room, drawn by the voices.
“I thought this weekend was supposed to be about family,” she said quietly.
“It was,” I said. “Until I learned I wasn’t allowed to decide where I slept.”
Her expression folded into wounded disappointment.
“Mark worked so hard to make this birthday special for me. I hate seeing him caught in the middle.”
But Mark wasn’t in the middle.
He was standing beside Brooke.
“Can we not do this in front of everyone?” he asked.
“Brooke announced where I was sleeping in front of everyone.”
“And you’re turning it into a confrontation.”
“No. I’m refusing to pretend it wasn’t one.”
His voice dropped.
“Please don’t embarrass me in front of my family.”
Seven months earlier, Mark had promised Daniel we would cover his apartment deposit. He told me afterward, when Daniel needed the money the next morning.
I transferred it.
At Sunday dinner, Evelyn hugged Mark and told everyone what a generous brother he was.
No one looked at me.
“Fine,” Brooke said sharply. “We can discuss the room later. I need you to check the weekend schedule.”
She pulled a second sheet from beneath the room chart and pushed it toward me.
The heading read:
EVELYN’S 70TH BIRTHDAY WEEKEND — FAMILY RESPONSIBILITIES
Daniel was responsible for music.
Emily would take photographs.
Mark would pick up Evelyn.
Brooke would host Saturday dinner.
Beside my name were Friday dinner, Saturday breakfast, groceries, cake pickup, table setup, and Sunday cleanup.
She had even assigned times.
They had not only decided where I would sleep.
They had decided how I would spend every hour I was awake.