“Eric, aren’t you going to say anything?”
He finally lifted his head. His eyes moved from his mother to his wife, lingering on each of them as if weighing something invisible.
“Well… when you think about it, it’s not such a terrible idea,” he said quietly.
Jenna went completely still. For a second she wondered if she had misunderstood him.
“You’re joking,” she whispered.
“I’m not. Emily truly needs support right now. We could exchange apartments. We’d manage in a smaller place, and she’d finally have more space. It’s a reasonable compromise.”
“A smaller place?” Jenna felt a tremor run through her fingers. “Do you even hear yourself?”
“I do. It’s not the end of the world. People trade apartments all the time.”
“Trade?” Her voice rose despite herself. “This is my apartment, Eric! My parents left it to me. I grew up here.”
“Jenna, please don’t shout. Let’s talk about this calmly.”
“What is there to talk about? You want me to hand over my home so your sister can live comfortably?”
“I’m not saying you should hand it over. Just swap. You’d still have somewhere to live.”
“But it wouldn’t be this place. Not this home.”
Linda cut in smoothly, as if soothing a child. “Jenna, sweetheart, don’t get so worked up. We’re proposing a practical solution. You’d have an apartment. Emily would have one. Everyone benefits.”
“No. Not everyone. I’d be the one losing my home.”
“It’s only walls,” Linda said with a dismissive wave. “Family is what matters. Relatives are supposed to stand by one another.”
Jenna felt heat flood her face. Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
“I’m not exchanging anything. The apartment is mine. End of discussion.”
Her words rang out sharp and clear. She held Eric’s gaze without blinking. He flinched slightly, as if struck. Linda exhaled heavily.
“So that’s how it is,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re selfish. You think only about yourself.”
“I’m protecting what belongs to me.”
“Are bricks more important to you than people?” Linda snapped, springing to her feet. “We’re talking about family, and you’re clinging to property! You’re ungrateful, Jenna. Eric loves you, takes care of you, and you can’t even help his own sister?”
“It’s not my obligation to sacrifice my home!”
“It absolutely is! You’re his wife. A wife supports her husband in everything.”
Eric stood abruptly, stepping between them. “Mom, please, calm down. Jenna, let’s not yell.”
“Not yell?” Jenna turned to him, disbelief written across her face. “You’re suggesting taking my apartment, and I’m supposed to stay quiet?”
“I’m not taking it. I’m suggesting a swap. That’s different.”
“To me, it isn’t! I don’t want to lose this place.”
“Why call it losing? You’d have another apartment.”
“I don’t want another one. I want this one.”
Linda pressed her fingers to her temple dramatically. “Good Lord, you are stubborn. You refuse to think about the family—only about yourself.”
“I’m thinking about myself because apparently no one else is.”
The argument spiraled. Linda accused her of ingratitude, of tearing the family apart, of caring more about square footage than relationships. Eric tried to quiet his mother while at the same time urging Jenna to be reasonable, insisting that a peaceful solution was possible if only she would listen.
Jenna stood in the center of the living room, breathing hard. A cold clarity settled over her. There was no middle ground here.
“This apartment belongs to me,” she said steadily. “My parents earned it. They entrusted it to me. I will not give it away.”
“I’m only asking you to help my sister,” Eric replied, a note of reproach in his voice. “Why are you being so obstinate?”
“Because you’re trying to solve your relatives’ problems at my expense.”
“At our expense,” he shot back. “We’re a family.”
“Being a family does not mean I have to sacrifice my home.”
Linda stepped closer and pointed a finger at Jenna. “You are a terrible wife. A real wife stands behind her husband. She supports his family. You think only about yourself.”
“Linda,” Jenna said quietly, though her voice did not waver, “please leave.”
“What did you say?”
“I’m asking you to leave my home. Right now.”
Color rushed into Linda’s face. “You’re throwing me out?”
“Yes. I am. This is my home, and I won’t allow you to shout at me in it.”
“Eric!” she cried, turning to her son. “Do you hear how she’s speaking to me?”
Eric stood frozen between them, his expression pale and uncertain, as if the ground beneath him had suddenly shifted.