Its your motherso its your responsibility! I snapped, but Emma had reached her limit. She buttoned her sons coat, clenching her teeth to keep her anger in check. Yet another Mothers Day loomed, and with it the dreaded visit to my motherinlaw. From the start, the relationship had been a constant battle.
Margaret Clarke had never accepted Emma as her sons wife. Whatever Emma did, Margaret could find a fault, a criticism to hurl.
Again, Emma? Tom sighed, watching her stern face. You dont want to go, do you?
Emma let out a bitter laugh.
Are you really asking me that? Honestly, Tom? You know exactly why I dont want to go!
Her eyes flared with fury.
Shell nag me again, put me down, tell me Im not raising our boy properly! And she seems to think it doesnt matter that I work, run the house, cook, clean and settle every bill. Im the one holding this family together!
But youre at home all day, Tom shrugged.
Emmas gaze darkened.
Oh, really? You think I just sit around doing nothing? Or that money falls from the sky?
I work too, he growled. Its not my fault Im not paid more.
The truth was that Emma, as an freelance designer, earned three times what I did. She was the familys breadwinner.
Cant you go alone? I asked, hoping for a way out.
Emma, its Mothers Day! You cant ignore my mother! I said, suppressing a sigh as I dressed our son. Two hours later we were at Margarets house.
In the sitting room, my niece Lily was already perched on the sofa. Emma had long noticed that Margaret favoured Lily, treating her like royalty while barely acknowledging her own grandson. It wasnt a surprise; Lilys parents had died five years earlier, and Margaret had raised her as her own.
Around them, Margarets sisters laughed loudly, clinking glasses of wine.
Then, without warning, Margaret dropped a bomb.
Ive made a decision, she announced solemnly. Ill bequeath my flat to Lily. You, Tom, already have your home.
Tom didnt react; he simply nodded.
A few days later the paperwork was done. The flat now belonged to Lily, on the condition she wouldnt move in until after Margarets death.
But fate had other plans. A sudden stroke left Margaret paralysed and unable to care for herself.
We need to move in with Mom, Tom declared firmly. She cant be left alone.
A cold shiver ran through Emma. She knew what that meant.
She would have to feed, clothe, bathe her, all while working and looking after our son.
She said nothing.
Weeks passed and Emma reached her breaking point.
One evening she finally exploded.
Tom, the flat belongs to Lily. Shouldnt she look after Mom? she demanded.
Lilys at university, Tom. Shes got a boyfriend. Do you expect her to move in here? I replied.
Emma let out a dry, chilling laugh.
Tom, I cant take this any longer!
He crossed his arms.
Oh, I see. Youre already exhausted?
Her hands trembled with rage.
Im suffocating! Everything rests on meYOU, your mother, our child, my jobI CANT ANYMORE!
But you work from home, he muttered, smugly.
Emmas stare cut sharper than broken glass.
And then what? You think I dont work at all?
Her heart pounded like a drum.
You know what? From now on its YOUR turn to look after your mother!
Its my mother, but its also your motherinlaw! Thats your duty! You want me to wash her, perhaps?
A deadly silence fell.
Then Emma spoke, voice calm and icy:
I owe you nothing.
I chuckled.
In that case, hire a care worker.
Oh? Youll pay for her?
Why should it be on me?
Then there wont be a care worker.
I crossed my arms.
You could use Moms pension. Or your salary?
My face hardened.
And why do I even have a wife?
That was the spark.
Something inside Emma finally shattered. Everything became blindingly clear. I had been using her for years.
And Lily? She hadnt even bothered to visit her grandmother.
That night Emma didnt sleep. By morning she knew what she had to do.
The moment I left the house, she packed her bags, took our son, and walked out the door.
She sent me a single message, then blocked my number:
I wont carry this burden alone any longer.
Later that evening I stormed back, furious.
Either you come back, or Ill file for divorce!
Emma gave a soft smile.
Go ahead. I was about to.
For the first time I looked lost.
But I wasnt waiting for an apology. Her decision was set.
A month later the divorce was final. I never apologized.
And Emma?
She never regretted leaving.
Six months on, I heard the news.
Margaret had died.
And Lily?
She threw me out without a flicker of remorse.
Only then did I understand.
I had lost everything.
