For twenty years, she endured her mother-in-laws tormentbut the final words chilled her to the bone.
*”You shouldnt have shouted at her like that, Emily. Shes old now,”* George murmured, setting his teacup down with a guilty glance at his wife.
*”Old?”* Emily spun away from the window. *”And when she was making my life miserable, was she young then? Twenty years, George. Twenty years of her little games!”*
*”But shes ill now”*
*”Ill!”* She scoffed. *”Only when it suits her. When shes insulting Mrs. Thompson next door or winding me up, shes fit as a fiddle!”*
George sipped his tea in silence, exhausted by the endless war between his wife and mother. Every day the same ritualhis mothers barbed remarks, Emilys temper, slamming doors, ugly words.
*”What did she even say this time?”* He regretted the question before the words left his mouth.
Emily shut her eyes as though steadying herself.
*”She told me I was a hopeless housewife. That my soup was tasteless, the house a pigsty, the children spoiled. And then”* Her voice sharpened. *”she said I ought to take lessons from Sarah, your brothers wife. Now theres a woman who knows how to cook and clean.”*
*”Mum just… likes to be in control.”*
*”Likes to be in control?”* Emilys voice cracked. *”And what about me? Havent I earned the right? Coming home from work to cook, scrub, fold laundry, listening every day to how useless I am?”*
George reached for her, but she stepped back.
*”Do you know what she left me with today?”* She wiped her sleeve across her eyes. *”That when youre gone, Ill still be alone. Because no one would ever want someone like me.”*
George froze, arms still outstretched.
*”She didnt mean it”*
*”She said it. Exactly that. Then slammed the door hard enough to shake the plaster loose.”*
Footsteps padded down the hall. The door creaked open, and ten-year-old Lily peeked in.
*”Mum… is Granny gone? She didnt say anything to me.”* The girl hugged her mothers waist.
*”Shes gone, love. Back to her own house.”* Emily smoothed Lilys hair.
*”Why do you always fight? It scares me when you shout.”*
Emily knelt, cupping her daughters face. *”Forgive us, sweetheart. Grown-ups forget how to talk sometimes. But it doesnt mean we dont love each other.”*
*”Granny doesnt love you,”* Lily said abruptly. *”Shes always cross with you. And it makes me sad.”*
Emily pulled her close, tears spilling again.
*”Go finish your homework, darling. Dad and I need to talk.”*
When Lily left, George sat beside his wife. *”Emily, Ill speak to Mum. Make her understand”*
*”Understand what?”* She laughed bitterly. *”Twenty years of explaining, George. What good has it done?”*
*”Then what do we do?”*
She studied her handshands that scrubbed dishes, folded laundry, worked eight-hour shifts at the shop only to come home and work again. Hands her mother-in-law called lazy.
*”Remember how we met?”* she asked suddenly.
George blinked. *”Of course. That dance at the community hall. You wore a blue dress.”*
*”Sky blue,”* she corrected, smiling faintly. *”I thought you were the handsomest man alive. Your mother hated me from the start.”*
*”She was just worried Id marry”*
*”Stop making excuses for her!”* Emilys voice flared. *”She hated me because my family wasnt posh enough. Because we lived in a council flat, because my dad was a mechanic, not some high-and-mighty engineer like yours!”*
*”That was years ago”*
*”Was it? Remember our wedding? Your mother scowled through the whole thing. And when we moved in, her first words were, ‘My house, my rules.’ Like I was some stray shed reluctantly taken in.”*
Emily stood, filling the kettle. *”Twenty years, George. Twenty years of cooking her way, cleaning her way, raising the kids by her book. And what do I get?”*
*”She does appreciate you”*
*”Appreciates me?”* She let out a hollow laugh. *”She tolerates me. Theres a difference.”*
The kettle whistled. Emily poured the tea, sat back down.
*”You know what I dream about?”* she said quietly. *”Waking up and not worrying if my breakfast pleases her. Coming home from work and not fearing shell find dust on a shelf. Buying the kids sweets without hearing Im ruining their teeth.”*
*”Emily”*
*”No, let me finish. I dream of a home where no one critiques my every move. Where the children dont grow up listening to us scream.”*
George took her hand. *”But Mums alone. Wholl look after her?”*
*”And wholl look after me?”* Her voice trembled. *”When I had pneumonia, she never once brought me teajust complained her soup wasnt right. When I broke my wrist, she expected dinner on the table. Its always my fault for failing her.”*
The doorbell rang. George returned with their neighbor, Auntie Margaret.
*”Hello, love,”* Margaret said, declining tea. *”Heard your mother-in-law storming off earlier. Thought Id check in.”*
*”Storming off,”* Emily muttered.
*”Dont be too hard on her, dear. Shes elderly, poorly. At that age, people turn sour.”*
*”Auntie Margaret, do you know what she told me today?”* She repeated the words.
Margaret sighed. *”Oh, Emily. She didnt mean it. She knows shed be lost without you.”*
*”Knows? If she knows, why does she never show it?”*
*”She does, in her way. How many times has she bragged to me about what a fine wife you are? How you care for the children, keep the house?”*
Emily stared. *”She said that?”*
*”Often! But pride stops her saying it to your face.”*
*”Then why the constant criticism?”*
Margaret glanced at George, then back. *”Youre clever, love. Your mother-in-law ruled this family for decades. Then you cameyoung, pretty, George doting on you. She couldnt bear not being the most important woman in his life anymore.”*
*”I never tried to take her son”*
*”Not deliberately. But you have his heart. And thats a wound some mothers never heal.”*
Emily absorbed this, though it brought no comfort.
*”So what now? Endure forever?”*
*”Try kindness instead of shouting. Tell her you value her advice, that you want to be a good daughter-in-law.”*
*”I have. It never works.”*
Margaret stood to leave. *”Then you must choose. Just rememberbreaking a family is easy. Mending it is the hard part.”*
After she left, silence settled. Dusk crept through the window; distant dogs barked, cars hummed by.
*”George… what if we rented a place?”* Emily whispered.
*”We cant afford it.”*
*”I could pick up shifts. The corner shop needs weekend help.”*
*”And Mum?”*
*”She stays here. Its her house. Well find somewhere smalljust ours.”*
George was quiet a long time. *”Maybe we should try. Even temporarily.”*
*”Temporarily?”* Emily turned to him. *”George, I cant anymore. Im tired of walking on eggshells. Im forty years old and still feel like a scolded child.”*
*”Alright,”* he said softly. *”Well look at places.”*
She hugged him, resting her head on his shoulderthe first time in years she dared believe she deserved happiness.
*”What if your mother objects?”*
*”Shell object to anything. But the choice is ours.”*
The next evening, Emily found her mother-in-law at the stove, stubbornly avoiding her gaze.
*”Evening, Margaret,”* Emily said.
*”Evening,”* the older woman grunted. *”No food for the children. Had to step in.”*
Emily bit back a retort. Their decision was made. They only needed to find a flat.
*”Thanks for cooking. Ill change and help.”*
Margaret blinked. Usually, Emily
