**Part 2**
The next morning I woke at six as usual, but instead of making Sarah’s expensive coffee, preparing breakfast, and sorting laundry, I brewed one cup of tea for myself and went outside to read.
When Sarah appeared and complained there was no coffee, I told her the beans were in the pantry. When she brought a laundry basket and said her silk blouse wasn’t clean, I answered that I had only washed my own clothes the day before. “You’re thirty years old, Sarah. I’m confident you can operate a washing machine.”
Later I found a glossy brochure for Sunset Pines — Independent and Assisted Living for the Golden Years — buried under mail. Suddenly the word “burden” made sense. I was healthy, independent, and fully capable. David and Sarah simply wanted my paid-off house.
That afternoon I went to the bank, opened a new account in my name only, and deactivated the cards linked to the old joint account. Then I shopped for salmon, vegetables, and wine — only for myself.
Over the following days I stopped doing their laundry and buying their groceries. When David complained the Wi-Fi was down, I told him I had changed the password and he was welcome to arrange and pay for his own service. “You said I was a burden, David. I’m simply making sure you no longer have to carry me.”
When he compared me to a stingy landlord, I reminded him a landlord collects rent — and they had paid none in eight months.
