“I Don’t Want My Husband’s Cousin Living with Us During Her College Years. It’s Going to Be Five Long Years”

When I first met Jake, it was nothing particularly romantic. We were at a mutual friend’s barbecue, and our conversation was casual, just two young adults talking about life and exchanging phone numbers. Even then, I noted that he didn’t seem like your typical city guy. He had a certain charm, a down-to-earth demeanor that set him apart.

Fast forward three years, and Jake and I were married. We had a modest home in the suburbs of Chicago, a place we both loved. Life was good, but then came the phone call that would change everything.

“Hey, honey,” Jake said one evening as he walked into the kitchen where I was preparing dinner. “I just got off the phone with my cousin, Emily. She’s been accepted into Northwestern University.”

“That’s great news!” I replied, genuinely happy for her. Emily was a bright young woman with a promising future.

“Yeah, it is,” Jake continued, hesitating slightly. “But there’s a bit of a problem. She can’t afford to live on campus or rent an apartment nearby. She asked if she could stay with us.”

I felt my heart sink. “For how long?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Well, her program is five years long,” Jake said, looking at me with hopeful eyes.

Five years. The words echoed in my mind like a death knell. I didn’t want to seem selfish, but the thought of having someone else in our home for that long was overwhelming.

“Jake, I don’t know if I can do this,” I said finally. “Five years is a long time.”

“I know, but she’s family,” he replied. “And she really needs our help.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. “Let’s give it a try,” I said, though my heart wasn’t in it.

Emily moved in a week later. At first, things were fine. She was polite and respectful, always helping out around the house and keeping to herself. But as the weeks turned into months, the strain began to show.

Our once peaceful home became a battleground of conflicting schedules and clashing personalities. Emily’s late-night study sessions kept me awake, and her constant presence made it impossible for Jake and me to have any privacy.

One evening, after yet another argument about the bathroom schedule, I finally snapped.

“Jake, this isn’t working,” I said, tears streaming down my face. “I can’t live like this for five years.”

“I know it’s hard,” he replied, looking equally exhausted. “But what can we do? She’s family.”

“Family or not, this is destroying us,” I said. “We need to find another solution.”

Reluctantly, Jake agreed to talk to Emily about finding alternative living arrangements. But when he broached the subject with her, she was devastated.

“I thought you guys wanted me here,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

“We do,” Jake said gently. “But it’s just not working out.”

Emily moved out a month later, finding a small apartment with the help of some financial aid from the university. The house felt empty without her, but the damage had been done.

Jake and I tried to rebuild our relationship, but the strain of those months had taken its toll. We argued more frequently and found it difficult to reconnect.

In the end, our marriage couldn’t withstand the pressure. We separated a year later, both of us left wondering if things might have been different if we had made another choice.