I closed the door gently behind my son and his wife that night and slid their spare keys into my pocket. The apartment fell silent, and for the first time in weeks, I felt I could breathe again. Asking them to leave was not something I ever imagined doing, but I had reached a point where kindness had turned into exhaustion.
A week has passed since then, and I don’t regret my decision. Sometimes love means knowing when to draw a line.It had started innocently enough. One evening, after a long day at work, I walked into my flat and found them sitting comfortably at my dining table as if they had always been there.
My son greeted me cheerfully, explaining that they had “popped by for a little while.”
Only later did I learn they had lost their apartment after failing to keep up with rent. I was disappointed but couldn’t turn them away. He promised it would be for just one week, and I believed him.
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