28October2025
Im writing this because everything feels like a badly staged play and I need to sort my thoughts. James was pacing the livingroom, flinging open and shut the wardrobe doors as if the motion could somehow calm the storm inside him.
You think Ill just sit here and watch you wink at anyone else? Youve hit the wrong end of this rope! Eleanor shouted, hurling her handbag onto the sofa. Divorce and division of assets! Gather your cash and get out. This flat is mine.
This flat may be yours, but everything in it is mine. I paid for it all, James snapped.
Dont you dare run away! Eleanor snapped back, pulling a stray lock of hair from her forehead. Leave, I dont want to see you again!
We married a year ago, supposedly in a blaze of love, and barely could stand each other. Wed met on a scorching summer day on the pavement, eyes locking as we passed. Both turned, laughed, stopped, and started chatting. He walked me home; we said goodbyes in the dark, met again the next morning, and never truly separated after that.
Everything was perfectuntil yesterday, when Eleanors jealousy flared over a former schoolmate we bumped into at the shopping centre.
She almost walked past without recognising the woman with the swollen lips, who was, in fact, their old classmate.
Recognise me, or what? Emily grabbed Eleanors sleeve. I saw you from across the aisle, you havent changed a bitstill all grey.
Emily? Im sorry, I didnt recognise you, Eleanor stammered, fearing shed offended someone. Emily looked like a motherly version of her own daughter, copying Eleanors style and hair, looking at least fifteen years older than she should.
Shall we sit in the café? Have a chat, Emily suggested. My legs are killing me; Ive been running around all morning buying things. Dads birthday is coming up and Ive been given a list. I cant even find half of it.
Why not, James said eagerly. I could grab a bite, Im starving.
Eleanor didnt object. She hadnt seen Emily since the school leaving ceremony, nearly ten years ago, and wanted to catch up on where everyone had drifted.
James ordered a steak with veg, the women got icecream.
Remember Victor? Emily asked Eleanor, glancing at James. The one who used to chase me.
Of course I do. Wasnt it the other way round? I thought you were the one hiding in the changing room.
Exactly! You know nothing. He followed me for two years. Hes settled in Manchester now, family there, decent job. Who would have guessed? Such a dull bloke.
I saw his photos in a group chat. Thought he was just on a tour. And what about Jenny Varlamova? I havent seen her.
Dont know. She gave birth and vanished. All the boys always chased her. Do you remember Mark Pakhomov? He kept asking me to dance at the prom? Emily chuckled, looking at James. Got married, divorced. He posts hearts under his photos not my style. And your George? Married, now a farmer!
Since when is he *my* thing? James asked, bewildered.
Because you never chased after him, right? Emily laughed, eyes on James.
James ignored the chatter, shovelling his steak. Eleanors agitation grew.
I didnt chase George, youre mixing things up, she said, pulling a compact mirror and lipstick from her bag, reapplying. James, are you done? Its time to go, weve got a lot to do.
We stood, said our goodbyes, but Emily lingered.
Going by car? Could you give me a lift? Im not keen on lugging my bags on the tube.
She settled in the passenger seat beside James, placing her bags on her lap, flicking her hair coyly.
I thought youd be living the high life, but your car looks sad. No decent credit, huh? Id help my husband get something nicer.
Listen, dear, James turned to Eleanor, smiling. What smart people say. I wanted to, but youre pricey well break the bank.
No, definitely a reliable car is a must, Emily persisted, pursing her lips like a duck. Driving farther than the city is risky. My brother in Europe bought a car. Its incomparable! Want my number? He can find you something proper.
Youre a businesswoman through and through, Eleanor laughed. Helping your brothers business? Fine, give me the number; might come in handy someday.
Eleanor sat behind Emily, simmering, trying to mask her fury with forced cheer, turning the uncomfortable talk into a joke.
The moment we stepped through the front door, she exploded.
Are you the good one and I the bad one? You wont let a lad buy a car? Held back the money? Fine, Ill see you later, you lipfilled monster!
Are you serious? James asked, bewildered. You dont get jokes, youre just jealous?
Who? Speak up, I want to hear, Eleanor snapped, grabbing James by the ears. Swear youll never wink at any other lippy woman again! she demanded, holding his ears tightly, eyes blazing.
I swear, no more winks, he laughed. Id do anything for that sofa.
The sofaour plush, springy, perfectly worn centrepiecehad become the ultimate prize.
The next morning I woke to his mischievous grin.
Whats so funny? I asked.
Im thinking I dont want to part with that gorgeous sofa.
Oh, the sofa! he chuckled.
Who else would I be with?
Swear youll never play the flirty games again, you biglipped fool! I warned, gripping his ears again, staring straight into his eyes.
I swear, no more flirty games, he said, laughing. Ill do anything for that sofa.
Now the whole family is involved. Motherinlaw Agnes burst into the flat, demanding we sort the split properly. Fatherinlaw Harold, clutching a handkerchief, tried to stay neutral, his face flushing as he listened.
Agnes declared, You provided a flat for the newlyweds, even if its a bit shabby, but we paid for the wedding, helped with the furniture, the car, even the renovations. James earns ten times what I earn, hes fed, clothed, and shoes us all year. By fairness, Eleanor should give us everything and leave.
Harold sat mute, wiping sweat from his brow, eyes fixed on the floor.
Agnes, breathing heavily, said, If we cant settle this ourselves, well need lawyers. Well go to court.
Harold rose, headed for the door, signalling the end of the discussion.
Eleanor, are you with us? Agnes asked.
No, Eleanor replied, adopting a battle stance. Ill guard the flat so no one sneaks anything out.
Through the courts, then, Agnes proclaimed. Well collect all receipts, bank statements. Well claim everything. You, James, stay and make sure nothing disappearsno spoon, no plate. Gareth, gather the papers.
When they finally left, I stared at the empty hallway, feeling the weight of the absurdity.
Mother, youre youre something else, I muttered bitterly. Now I see who you truly are.
Is she wrong? James asked quietly.
God, what have I gotten myself into! You can drown in your paperwork, but this flat is mine, and the sofa is mine too. Dont even think about taking it.
The sofa was our choice together. Its as much yours as mine. My salary is higher; we bought everything on it. Stop acting like a lunatic, Eleanor, whats your point?
Am I mad? What? Hes flirting with anyone, and Im supposed to be the sidekick. Ive worked for you all yearcook, clean, wash, dishwash! You even kept me from sleeping!
Is that paid too? Brilliant! James roared with laughter. You thought youd found a free servant? I bought everything, a benefactor!
My parents always helped with money. Mothers words were right. The sofa is mine; I wont leave without it. I bought the wardrobe, the carpet, the computer, even your bag.
I bought you a sweater, gloves, even underwear! Take it off!
James stumbled, raised an eyebrow, and moved toward me, lips curling into a sly grin.
Alright, hold on. Im taking it off
The sofa was unbelievably comfortable, springy, and now it felt like a hostage.
Later, when I finally managed to sit down, James looked at me with that teasing sparkle.
What are you laughing at?
Im just thinking I dont want to part with this brilliant sofa.
Ah, the sofa!
Who else?
Swear youll never flash those flirty eyes at any other lipfull woman again! I demanded, gripping his ears, eyes locked.
I swear, never again, he giggled. Id do anything for that sofa.
Tonight, after the chaos, Im left wondering whether it was ever about the sofa at all, or just our pride and the ridiculous ways we let love turn into a courtroom drama. The flat feels empty, the sofa still there, and the future feels as uncertain as the next breath Ill take.
