Forgive me, little Dinah, for my sharp words the wouldbe motherinlaw whispered hurriedly, her tone trembling like a moth’s wing. I didnt mean them with malice. Perhaps youll drop by sometime? Vinnie is still on his own, ever since he and you split, his destiny has remained a phantom, hiding behind screens and endless quests
***
Blythe and Victor had been together for almost two years. To Blythe, their romance seemed solid: she often found herself in the Whitaker household, welcomed politely, but never with a warm fire in the hearth. She believed a sturdy future lay ahead. Victor, though a little carefree, possessed a charm and a flicker of ambition.
The idyll shattered when Victor flunked his crucial ALevel English exam. His failure was the fruit of neglect: during the lockdown he sank deep into video games, letting his studies drift away. The threat of being expelled loomed.
In the throes of that crisis, Blythe could no longer hold back and, facing Victors mother, blurted:
I dont need a man who achieves nothing. I need a selfsufficient partner. Im not going to be anyones housemaid; we should share the chores and the earnings!
The words hung in the air, immediately casting doubt on whatever tomorrow might have held.
Mrs. Whitaker took the outburst as a personal affront. She had spent her whole life providing for her husband and son, believing her role was to care, not to demand results. Now she expected Blythe to behave exactly as she had always behaved.
Oh, the nerve! A woman who refuses to be a housemaid? A ladys first duty is to keep the fire burning, and a man is the head of the house!
Blythe fell silent, unwilling to deepen the quarrel. From then on the door was seldom opened for her. Contact with Victor dwindled to secret messages, occasional calls, and fleeting meetings in neutral cafés. He suffered the ache of distance, but instead of honesty he leaned on manipulation.
Blythe, we have to talk to my mother Victor pleaded over the phone. You must tell her you dont really feel that way. Im tired of hiding. Make peace with the family, will you?
Why should I prove anything to your mother? She didnt raise me. These are your problems, not mine. Why should I bend?
Because you love me and I love you. Its the only way to fix everything. If you dont, well lose each other forever
With a heavy heart, Blythe agreed for love, she was ready to take a humiliating step: to try explaining herself to a strangers mother.
But the night unfolded far from her expectations.
When Blythe arrived, Victor let her into the hall. At that moment his father descended the stairs.
Victor, whats this girl doing here? he asked, his voice sharp as a winter wind.
Victor froze. Blythe felt the colour drain from her face. The question seemed to ask not for his lover, but for some random acquaintance.
Dad, Blythe, we Victor began, but his father cut him off:
I see who she is. Shes out!
From the living room his mother emerged:
Whos making all that noise? Vinnie, whos with you?
The father, ignoring Blythe, sneered:
The very one who taught you how to live.
Blythe realized she was unwanted. Humiliation surged, and instinct took over.
Im leaving, and you stay! Pathetic, useless little Whitaker boy! she hissed, storming out and slamming the door with a thunderous clang.
Victor, stunned, made no move to stop her.
As she stepped into the stairwell, her phone rang. Victors voice crackled through, not with remorse but with fury:
Why did you say that? Youve ruined everything!
What have I ruined? Your father just turned me into a a callgirl!
Whatever you call it, hes put you wherever he wants! You caused a scandal! Now Mums furious, and Dad wants me to never see you again!
Then he dropped the final, crushing line:
And you know whats worst? Ill never get to sit at my computer again.
Blythe felt the sting of hurt turn into cold resolve.
You blame me for not being able to game? Your familys problems are yours to sort, not mine. You should have dealt with them yourself, not made me the scapegoat.
Everything became clear: he hadnt changed. He remained the infantile lad searching for someone to blame, never shielding her.
I cant stand this any longer, Vinnie. Were done. This is the end! Blythe declared, her voice firm as stone.
She blocked him on every platform. The breakup was abrupt but necessary. His familys cross was his to bear, not hers.
***
A year later, Blythe healed from the split and began a new chapter. She met a new boyfriend; after three months they were talking about marriage.
One afternoon, while browsing a corner shop, she was startled by a familiar voice.
Blythe! My dear, hello! shouted Mrs. Whitaker, Victors mother, rushing toward her.
Blythe froze.
Good day she managed.
Mrs. Whitaker enveloped her in a hug and peppered her with questions:
How long has it been! How are you? Hows life? Blythe, its dreadful you and Vinnie broke up. Hes gone mad with his games! He wont work, always glued to his computer. When you two were together, he was much more responsible Come over sometime!
Im sorry, Mrs. Whitaker, Im busy. Work, home
Mrs. Whitakers eyes fell on a ring on Blythes finger.
And this? Are you married?
No, were only engaged. Well have the wedding this summer.
The stray motherinlaws smile wilted instantly.
Ah, that explains everything! Good thing Vinnie left you! We dont need someone like you!
Blythe shrugged and turned toward the shelves. In a twisted way the Whitakers words held a grain of truth: perhaps it was better that she had let him go. Yet a whisper of regret lingeredtime spent on a man who never grew up.
