My husband had been treating me like a guest for months in the apartment I paid for myself, until he wanted to take my studio away to give it to his mother… and that same night I discovered that he never imagined who was really in control

Instead, she heard the heavy thud of furniture dragging across the hardwood floors of her private workspace. She walked into the room to find two men lifting her custom oak desk while Simon’s mother, Beverly, pointed toward the corner with an air of unearned authority.

“Watch the edges, that piece is high quality,” Beverly instructed the movers. “Simon decided this room should be my guest suite since an office is just a waste of a perfectly good window view.”

Valerie stood in the doorway, her voice icy as she asked, “Does my private studio look like a storage unit to you?”

Simon stepped into the room a moment later, wiping sweat from his forehead and wearing the same arrogant grin that used to make her heart melt. “Don’t start a fight over this, Val. My mom needs a permanent place to stay, and you’re always at the firm anyway, so you don’t really need this much space.”

“Our apartment belongs to me as much as it does to you,” Simon added while crossing his arms. “I live here, so I have the right to make executive decisions about the layout.”