You havent achieved anything, he kept saying, but he didnt realise his new boss was actually my son from my exhusband.
Shirt! A white one! Cant you guess what I need? Rodericks voice cut through the early kitchen quiet like a knife.
He stood in the middle of the room, tugging fiercely at the knot on his most expensive tie, looking at me as if I were some mindless maid.
Today theyre unveiling the new chief executive. I have to look the part, like a million bucks.
I didnt say a word. I handed him a hanger with a perfectly pressed, snowwhite shirt. He snatched it as though Id stolen his precious time. Roderick was on edge, turning into a bundle of bile and passive aggression in moments like this.
He ranted at me, the only person in his world who, in his mind, would never push back.
This new kid is a real prodigy. Just a lad and already a chief. They say his surname is Hawthorne.
My fingers froze on the coffee pot handle for a heartbeat. Hawthorne. The name of my first husband. The name of my son.
Youll never get it, Roderick snapped, staring at his reflection in the mirrored cupboard doors. Youre just a housewife, stuck in your cosy little swamp. Youve never wanted to achieve anything.
He smoothed his tie, a smug grin curling his lips. That smile wasnt for me; it was for the successful man in the mirror hed been building up for years.
And then I remembered another morning, years ago, swollen with tears, cradling baby Archer in my arms while my first husband, Simon, muttered helplessly that he had nothing to offer us.
It was in that leaky onebed flat that I vowed my son would have it all. I worked two, sometimes three jobsfirst while Archer was in nursery, then at school, then at universityselling my lategrandmothers flat so he could take that internship in the Cambridge tech hub.
He was my flagship project, my most precious startup.
People say hes the son of some poor engineer, Roderick went on, savoring the detail like a gourmand. From mud to royalty. Those are usually the most ruthless.
He recalled how, at a company party, drunk and proud, hed publicly humiliated Simon. Simon had once tried to pitch a project to their firm, and Roderick had dubbed him a dreamer with empty pockets and laughed out loud.
He loved those moments; they fed his swollen ego.
Hand me the shoe brush and the polish, quick. I fetched everything he asked for, my hands steady, a deep silence humming inside me.
Roderick didnt know his new boss wasnt just any Hawthorne. He didnt suspect that this lad was the cofounder of an IT firm their holding had just bought for a fortune, making him the head of an entire division. And he certainly didnt realise this prodigy remembered the woman who had made his mother weep into her pillow.
He sauntered out, slamming the door as was his custom.
I stayed by the window, watching his car pull away. Today Roderick was heading to the most important meeting of his life, blissfully unaware it was his own execution.
That evening the front door burst open as if kicked by a foot. Roderick stormed into the hallway, face flushed, his tie dangling like a loose knot hed just freed.
I hate this! he snarled, hurling his briefcase into a corner. Can you believe this pup thinks he can do what he wants?
I slipped out of the kitchen, watching him pace like a tiger in a cage.
He talked to me like I was a fresh grad on placement! With the head of a key department! He tore my quarterly report to pieces, asked if Id bought a diploma on the street!
His words sounded like contempt, but beneath it was sheer professionalism. Thats my son, Archer. He always dives into details, never missing a beat.
And you know what he said at the end? Roderick halted in front of me, panic flickering in his eyes. Mr Roderick, Im genuinely surprised youre still in that role with those figures. I hope this is just an unfortunate misunderstanding and that you wont disappoint me further. That was a threatdirected at me.
He expected sympathy, advice, support. I just stared at the broken, angry man and felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Why are you silent? he exploded. Do you not care? Do you not mind that the man who feeds, clothes and supports you is being trampled?
Then a brilliant idea, born of pure fear, lit up his eyes.
I know what to do! Ill fix everything. Ill show Hawthorne Im not just a cog. Ill invite him to dinner. At our place.
I met his gaze.
Exactly! In an informal setting people let their guard down. Hell see my house, my status. And you youll have to prove I have a solid backing, a model wife and a perfect home. Thats your only chance to be useful.
He thought the plan was clever, a way to use me as a pretty backdrop.
And then something clicked for me. I saw the whole picturean ideal storm hed created with his own hands. I realised it was my chance too.
Fine, I said calmly, and he didnt even notice the trap. Ill organise the dinner.
The doorbell rang precisely at seven, clear as a signal.
Roderick, who had been rattling around the flat for half an hour, leapt to the hallway, a fake smile plastered on his face.
I followed, prepared all his favourite dishes, crafting the illusion of the perfect picture he so coveteda perfect trap.
The door opened and there stood Archer, tall in an immaculate suit, looking older than his twentysix years. He extended his hand to Roderick.
Archer Hawthorne. Thank you for the invitation.
Roderick grasped it with a grip far stronger than his own.
Roderick! Very pleased! Make yourself at home!
Archer stepped inside, his eyes immediately finding me. He didnt smile, just staredlong, serious. In that gaze lay our entire shared history.
And this is my wife, Blythe, Roderick announced. My rock, my hope.
Were acquainted, Archer replied evenly, never breaking eye contact.
Roderick froze, his smile trembling.
Acquainted? From where?
All evening he tried to seize control, bragging about his successes, tossing out inappropriate jokes. Archer listened politely but kept his distance. The atmosphere at the table was thick, sticky like tar. Roderick swallowed several glasses of wine, feeling his plan crumble.
Then he decided to strike at the most painful spotme.
Mr Hawthorne, youre so young yet already at the top. Thats because you have the right bearings. As for my Blythe shes had a rough go.
Archer carefully set down his fork.
Her first husband was lets say a dreamer, Roderick sneered. An engineer with not a penny in his pocket. He lived on ideas and couldnt feed a family. So Blythe found happiness with me because she achieved nothing on her own.
The same line, the final straw, spoken right in front of my son, the son of that very dreamer engineer.
Enough.
I lifted my head.
Youre right, Roderick. I truly havent achieved anything. No career, no millions.
I paused, watching his expression shift.
My only project was one thing. One single thing. My son.
I turned to Archer.
I poured everything into himmy whole life, my strength, my beliefso hed grow up and never let people like you trample himself or his loved ones.
I looked back at Roderick; his face stretched, a animal terror flashing in his eyes as the realization finally hit.
So meet him, Roderick. This is Archer Hawthorne, son of that dreamer engineer. My most successful project.
The room felt like it could be sliced with a knife. Rodericks smug grin melted away.
Archer stood.
Mr Roderick, his voice was calm, metallic in its steadiness, thanks for dinner. It was enlightening.
My father really was a dreamer. He imagined a world where professionalism mattered more than brownnosering. Too bad there was no room for that in your department.
Mr Hawthorne I didnt know this was a misunderstanding! he blurted.
The fact youre an incompetent manager is a fact. The fact youve belittled my mother for years is also a fact. Ill submit my resignation tomorrow at nine. Dont force me to audit your projects. Youll find something there.
Roderick sat, looking at me with a pleading glance.
I stood as well.
Go, Roderick.
My go came out soft, without shout or hatredjust a period.
He croaked, trying to excuse himself.
Blythe you cant this house
The only thing you gave me was this house. Its mine now, I replied evenly. Pack what fits in one suitcase.
He finally understood. The game was over.
He turned and left. The closing door sounded like the final full stop of a waytoolong sentence.
I stood in the living room, Archer came over and took my hand.
Mum, how are you?
I looked at himmy greatest achievement.
Now Im fine.
Did I really achieve nothing? Maybe I never became a CEO or amassed a fortune, but I raised a man. That turned out to be enough to get my life back.
Six months later, the first thing I did after he left was remodel. I ripped out heavy wallpaper, cleared out the gaudy furniture that screamed status.
The house stopped being a showcase for someone elses success. It became mine.
I opened a small flower shop with a workshop. Id always loved plants, though Roderick called it a hobby for simples. Turns out my hobby could bring both joy and a modest income.
Its Saturday now. Archer dropped by.
Dad called, he said. He sent his regards. Ive just landed a huge grant for my waterpurification system. Im heading to the UK tech hub. He said you were rightdreaming does help.
I smiled. Wed long since forgiven each others old wounds.
And you know what I thought? Archer asked seriously. That Roderick was right about something.
I raised an eyebrow.
You really didnt achieve anything, in the way he measured it. But you did a lot more. You kept yourself, you raised me. Thats not a project, Mum. Thats life. And youve nailed it.
I looked at my grown son, the pain gone from his eyes, replaced by calm strength.
What are you up to now? he asked.
Ive signed up for a language course, I replied, surprised at how natural it sounded.
He nodded, his eyes warm with pride, and I realised I needed nothing else.
Did I achieve nothing? Maybe, by some standards. But I finally started living for myself. And thats the greatest achievement of all.
