You can leave, its easier for me with Mum, David admitted, three years into their marriage.
Emily froze, the ladle hovering over the pot of bubbling stew. Steam rose to the ceiling as she stood there, stunned. At first, she thought shed misheard. But the silence in the kitchen was so sharp, every word echoed in her head.
What did you just say? She slowly set the ladle down and turned.
You heard me. Stop pretending. Mum and I were fine before you, and well be fine now, David said, flipping channels like they were discussing the weather.
Emily sank onto a stool. Three years ago, shed moved into this house as a hopeful young wife, full of dreams. Her mother-in-law had been cold from the start, but Emily had believed time would soften things. Shed wanted a familychildren, Sunday roasts, a place where she belonged.
Dave, whats brought this on? Her voice trembled.
Oh, come off it, he scoffed. Youve always been in the way. Mum was right from the beginning. Why do I need a wife who just complicates things?
Margaret appeared in the doorway like shed been waiting for her cue. A smug little smile played on her lips.
David, love, dont get yourself worked up. Your blood pressure, she cooed, resting a hand on his shoulder. And Emily, dear, maybe it *is* best if you stay with your parents for a bit. Clear your head.
Emily looked from Margaret to David. He nodded along, and something inside her quietly shatterednot with a crash, but like a soap bubble popping.
What have I done wrong? she asked, voice eerily calm.
Margaret narrowed her eyes. Just look at yourself! The house is a mess, your cookings barely passable, and worst of allyouve come between us. My boy used to confide in me. Now? He clams up.
Mums right, David chimed in. Life was simpler before. Quiet. But youre always nagging, never happy.
Emily thought of last nighthow shed asked him to help hang curtains, and hed brushed her off, claiming work exhaustion. Yet when Margaret asked him to put up a shelf, hed jumped to it.
I nag? Dave, the kitchen taps been dripping for *weeks*.
Always something with you! he snapped. Mum never bothered me with nonsense.
Because I did everything myself, Margaret cut in. But *you* expect to be waited on.
Emily began clearing the table mechanically, her thoughts tangled. When theyd met, David had seemed so independenta skilled tradesman with his own flat (though he lived with his mum, which hadnt seemed odd at the time).
You know what? She stacked the plates. I *will* leave. Maybe it *will* be easier for you.
Good, Margaret said, satisfied. Young people rush into marriage without a thought.
David stayed silent, glued to the telly, though Emily doubted he was watching.
Ill finish dinner first, she added. No point wasting the stew.
It sounded almost ceremoniallike the final note of a song no one had listened to.
She served the stew, sliced bread, set out butter. Slow, deliberate movements, as if memorising the moment. The last time shed set this table.
Eat while its hot.
David slouched into his chair. Margaret took a bite.
Too salty, she declared.
Emily said nothing. The only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the halla family heirloom that had kept her awake for months. Now, she barely noticed it.
Where will you go? David asked suddenly.
To my parents first. Then Ill figure something out. She pushed her half-full plate away. Ive got my job. Ill manage.
But they live miles away, Margaret said. Your commute will be hell.
Ill cope.
Margarets smirk faltered, as if shed only just realised Emily meant it.
Oh, dont be dramatic, David muttered. Couples argue.
Emily stared. Did he really think this was just a row? That tomorrow shed fry his eggs like nothing happened?
*You* told me to leave.
I was angry! Blokes say stupid things.
Angry? She laughed dryly. Seemed pretty calculated to me.
She cleared the dishes. David kept glancing at her. Even Margaret had gone quiet.
Em, he said as she washed up. Stay. Well work it out.
Work it out? She turned. Im tired of getting by, Dave. I want a proper marriage.
Whats *improper* about us?
She dried her hands. The fact that in three years, weve never once been alone. When was our last date? Just us two?
He frowned. We went to the cinema last month.
With *your mum*. She picked the film.
So? She wanted to see it!
What *she* wants, what *she* thinks, Emily sighed. No one cares what *I* want.
Margaret stood, bristling. Dont pin this on me. I raised David alone, sacrificed everything. Now you want to shove me aside?
I dont want to shove you anywhere! Emilys voice rose for the first time. I just want a *home*, not a retirement annexe!
Silence. The clock chimed half-eight.
So thats it? David asked quietly.
Thats it.
He nodded, retreating into his phone.
Pack your things, then. Im helping Mum fix her fence tomorrow.
Emily almost laughed. Instead, she walked out.
Upstairs, she dragged out the suitcase shed arrived with. Three years, and it was only half-full.
David lingered in the doorway. You dont have to rush off.
She zipped the case. Ive spent three years thinking, Dave. Enough.
He helped her with her coat in the hall, hands shaking.
Em
Dont. She opened the door. Youll be happier like this.
Outside, she hailed a cab. The driver, a grandfatherly man, helped with her suitcase.
Going far?
Kings Cross.
Work trip?
Emily glanced back at the house. The kitchen light was onMargaret washing *her* dishes.
No, she said. Im going home.
As the car pulled away, she called her parents.
Mum? Its me. Can I stay a few days? Yes, alone.
No questions asked. Just Of course, love.
It felt strangenot the heartbreak shed expected, but lightness. Like shrugging off a heavy rucksack.
You know, she told the driver, I think Im doing the right thing.
He smiled in the mirror. If your gut says so, it is. Lifes longmistakes are lessons.
The train left in an hour. Plenty of time. She bought a coffee, sat on a bench.
David called.
Where are you?
The station.
Em, come back. Well talk properly, just us.
Too late. My trains soon.
*Train*? Youre actually leaving?
She almost laughed. Did he think she was bluffing?
Yes.
This is ridiculous! Youd throw away our marriage over one row?
Over *three years* of rows. Goodbye, Dave.
She hung up. He rang again. She ignored it.
The train was on time. Her seatmate, a kindly woman, asked if she was going home.
To my parents.
Im visiting my granddaughter. Missed her terribly. You see yours often?
Not enough, Emily admitted. But I will now.
Fields blurred past the window. Scary? Yes. Starting over at thirty wasnt easy. But staying where she wasnt wanted? Impossible.
Her parents met her at the station. Her mum hugged her tight.
Hungry? Ive made pancakes.
Over breakfast, Emily explained. Her dad frowned; her mum sighed.
I always knew a man who lived with his mother at thirty wouldnt make a proper husband.
Its done, Mum. Now I rebuild.
Youve got your job, your wits. Stay as long as you need.
For the first time in years, she felt *held*.
Three days passed. Then Margaret called.
Emily? Its Margaret. Where *are* you? Davids beside himself.
Why? You got what you wanted.
People say things in anger! Come home.
Emily smirked. Until next time.
Tell David Im filing for divorce.
*Divorce*? Have you lost your mind? He *l
