The plate slipped from Emilys trembling hands and shattered against the kitchen tiles, shards scattering like broken promises. She turned to face her husband, her voice barely above a whisper.
“James, what are you saying? I only asked you to leave half your salary for groceries. The fridge is empty.”
“And Mums barely getting by,” James snapped, buttoning his coat. “She needs her medicine, the heating bill paid. But you only think of yourself.”
Emily knelt to gather the fragments, her hands shaking. A sharp edge sliced her finger, drawing blood.
“I dont mind helping your mum. But were people too. We need to eat, pay our own bills.”
“Youve got your own salary,” he shot back, heading for the door. “Live off that.”
“But its half of what you make! And I pay for Sophies nursery, her clothes”
James stopped in the doorway.
“Mum raised me alone after Dad died in the factory accident when I was eight. She worked two jobs just to put me through university. Now its my turn to take care of her.”
“But she gets her pension,” Emily protested. “We have a little girl to feed.”
“Pensions nothing these days. And Sophies your responsibility too.”
The door slammed shut.
From the nursery, soft cries broke the silence. Three-year-old Sophie had woken. Emily quickly bandaged her finger and went to her.
“Mummy, Im scared,” Sophie whimpered. “Daddy was shouting.”
“Its alright, sweetheart,” Emily whispered, holding her close. “Daddys just tired.”
But nothing was alright. Outside, rain lashed the windows. The flat was freezingcentral heating wouldnt kick in for weeks, and they couldnt afford the electric heater. Thirty pounds was all that remained in her purse until payday. Enough for groceries, maybe petrol for work.
Sophie drifted back to sleep in her arms. Emily tucked her in and returned to the kitchen, each piece of broken glass echoing the fracture in her heart.
Shed met James six years ago at workhim, the quiet, well-read IT specialist; her, the junior accountant. Hed spoken of poetry, of his mums sacrifices raising him alone. At twenty-four, shed thought him noble.
But after Sophie was born, his visits to his mother grew longer. “Shes unwell,” hed say. “Needs me.” Emily hadnt arguedhis salary covered them all.
Then she returned to work, and the demands began. His mother needed a new telly. Expensive prescriptions. James gave more each monthfirst a third, then half his pay. When Emily gently protested, hed glare. “Youre selfish.”
Tonight, hed crossed a line. “My mum matters more than you.”
Emily opened her budgeting notebook. Rent: £500. Nursery: £300. Bare-minimum groceries: £200. Her salary: £800. The numbers screamed back at her.
Her phone rang. Her best friend, Claire.
“Em, you sound awful. Whats happened?”
The truth poured outthe withheld wages, the thirty pounds, the words that had shattered everything.
“Hes lost the plot!” Claire hissed. “You think his mums really struggling? Go see for yourself.”
The next day, Emily stood on the doorstep of her mother-in-laws two-bed terrace in Surrey. Margaret greeted her with raised brows.
“James isnt with you? Or Sophie?”
Inside, Emilys stomach knotted. A brand-new widescreen TV. A leather sofa. A designer handbag tossed carelessly on the side.
“James spoils me,” Margaret sighed, offering expensive chocolates. “Booked me a spa weekend next month.”
Emily forced a smile. “Your pension must cover a lot.”
“Oh, that? I save it. For emergencies.”
The truth hit like ice. Margaret wasnt strugglingshe was living lavishly on her sons guilt.
That evening, James barely looked up from his laptop.
“Where were you?”
“At your mums.” His fingers stilled. “Shes got a new telly. A spa trip. All while Sophie wears hand-me-downs.”
James stood abruptly. “Mum deserves nice things.”
“Does Sophie?”
His face darkened. “Dont push this. Mum comes first.”
Emily exhaled. “Then go live with her.”
James paled. “Youre leaving?”
“I wont compete with a woman who hoards her pension while my daughter goes without.”
As she packed, Sophie clutched her worn teddythe one James had given her when they were dating. Back when hed made her feel cherished.
Tomorrow, shed take Sophie to her parents. It would be hard. But honest.
And James? Hed have what hed always chosen.
Just him and Mum.
Happy at last.
