**”Go Back to Your Mother,” Ordered the Husband, Pushing the Suitcases Out**
*”Mum, stop calling him,”* sighed Eleanor, setting her tea down heavily. *”Eds at workhes in a meeting.”*
*”Oh, I bet he is,”* scoffed Antonia, pursing her lips. *”I know all about these ‘meetings.’ Same excuse he used yesterday when he rolled in at midnight reeking of whiskey.”*
Eleanor rubbed her temples. Ever since she and Edward had moved in with her mumonly for a couple of months while their flat was being refurbishedevery morning had begun like this. But the second month was nearly over, and the renovations were nowhere near done.
*”Mum, please,”* Eleanor kept her voice steady. *”You promised not to interfere.”*
*”Im not interfering!”* Antonia set her phone aside. *”I just worry about you. Youre working yourself to the bone while hes out gallivanting. What kind of man does that?”*
*”A perfectly normal one!”* Eleanor stood up. *”And he wasnt gallivanting. It was an important client dinnerI told you that.”*
Antonia snorted skeptically but didnt argue. Eleanor knew that lookher mother didnt believe a word of it.
*”Im off to work,”* Eleanor said, grabbing her bag. *”Ill be back by eight.”*
*”What about lunch? I made borscht.”*
*”No time, Mum. Meeting at one, then a client.”*
*”Youre always starving yourself,”* Antonia shook her head. *”No wonder youre not pregnant. Hows a baby supposed to grow on an empty stomach?”*
Eleanor exhaled sharply. The baby talk was a sore spot, yet her mother brought it up with clockwork regularity. Five years married, and still no grandchildclearly, some sort of national scandal.
*”See you tonight, Mum,”* Eleanor kissed her cheek. *”Ed promised hed be back early, so well have dinner together.”*
*”If he comes back,”* Antonia muttered.
Outside, Eleanor leaned against the damp hallway wall, breathing in the musty scent of childhoodonce comforting, now just irritating.
In the car, she called Edward.
*”Ed, Mum rang you again, didnt she?”*
*”Three times,”* his voice was weary. *”I ignored it.”*
*”Sorry, shes just worried.”*
*”Worried?”* Edward scoffed. *”Shes monitoring my every move. Last night, it was an interrogationwhere was I, who was I drinking with, why so late? Im not a teenager, Ellie!”*
*”I know,”* she started the engine. *”Just hang in a bit longer. The contractor promised the bathroom would be done this week, then just the kitchen. Well be home soon.”*
Edward went quiet. When he spoke again, his voice was hollow.
*”What if I dont want to go back?”*
*”What do you mean?”*
*”Never mind. See you at work.”*
The call ended. Eleanor stared at her phone, unease tightening in her chest. What did he mean? Didnt want to return to their flator to *her*?
Work dragged. She botched figures in a meeting, forgot key contract details with a client. Edward was out on-site all day, avoiding her.
By nine, she finally got home. The flat was silent except for the telly murmuring from the kitchen.
*”Im back!”* she called, toeing off her shoes.
No answer. Oddusually, Antonia would pounce with questions about her day.
Then she saw them: Edward and her mother at the table, tension crackling between them. Antonia was pointedly ignoring him; Edward was twisting a cold cup of tea in his hands.
*”Whats going on?”* Eleanor asked.
Edward looked up, eyes icy.
*”Ask your mother,”* he said. *”Shes been tearing into me for the last half-hour.”*
*”Antonia, what happened?”*
Her mother sniffed.
*”Just told your husband a few home truths. That hes not a real mancant even provide properly. Living off his mother-in-law like a lodger.”*
*”Mum!”* Eleanor gasped. *”We *have* our own place!”*
*”A shoebox in some soulless block,”* Antonia waved a hand. *”In my day, men built homes. But him? Some middle-manager…”*
*”Im not a middle-managerIm a *project lead*,”* Edward gritted out. *”And were only here because of the *renovations*.”*
*”Five years and nothing to show!”* Antonia barreled on. *”No kids, no proper home. Wife slaving away while he”*
*”Mum, *enough*!”* Eleanor snapped. *”We agreedno pressure, no baby talk!”*
Antonias lips thinned.
*”I only want whats best. Youre thirty-twotimes ticking.”*
Eleanor sat beside Edward, taking his hand. He didnt pull awaybut didnt squeeze back either.
*”Ed, Im sorry. She just frets.”*
*”Frets?”* He laughed bitterly. *”She thinks Im a failure. Always has.”*
Eleanor didnt argue. Antonia *had* opposed their marriage. *”No prospects,”* shed said. *”No connections. And five years youngerstill wet behind the ears.”*
*”Go to bed,”* Antonia grumbled, standing. *”Ive got my blood pressure check tomorrow, and youre stressing me out.”*
She shuffled off, slamming her door.
Alone, Edward exhaled.
*”Sorry,”* Eleanor whispered again.
*”For what?”* His voice was flat. *”That your mother thinks Im worthless? Or that you never stand up to her?”*
*”I *do*!”*
*”No, Ellie. You nod, then tell me to ‘hang on.’ Five years of hanging on. Maybe Im done.”*
He stood abruptly.
*”Where are you going?”*
*”To sleep. Early start.”*
Eleanor watched him leave, then glared at her mothers door. She wanted to storm in, scream, unleash years of frustrationbut she couldnt. She *never* could.
The next morning, Edward was already gone. Antonia sat at the table, teacup and pills before her.
*”So, your prince bolted?”* she said by way of greeting.
*”Mum, *stop*,”* Eleanor said tiredly. *”Hes my husband. I love him. You need to respect that.”*
*”Respects earned,”* Antonia said crisply. *”Your *father* was a real man. This one? Cant even fix a leaky tap without calling a plumber. Useless.”*
Eleanor chewed her toast mechanically. Arguing was pointlessher mother saw the world in black and white. Unshakable.
Work was a blur. Edward avoided her. Their texts were clipped, transactional. No mention of last night.
That evening, she came home to raised voices. Edward and Antonia stood squared off, her mother red-faced, him eerily calm.
*”Whats happening?”*
*”Your *husband*,”* Antonia jabbed a finger, *”is moving out. Says hes rented a flat.”*
Eleanor went pale.
*”Ed… is it true?”*
*”Yes,”* he said coolly. *”Nice place near work. Moving tomorrow.”*
*”What about *me*?”*
*”Your choice,”* he met her eyes. *”Come with me, or stay. But if you stay, its for good. I wont live like this anymore, Ellie.”*
*”Ha!”* Antonia crowed. *”See? Hes *dumping* you! I *told* you”*
*”MUM!”* Eleanor whirled on her. *”Shut. *Up*.”*
Antonia blinked, stunned.
*”Im going with him,”* Eleanor said firmly.
Her mothers face crumpled.
*”Youd choose *him* over me? After *everything*?”*
*”Its not a *choice*,”* Eleanor said, exhausted. *”I love you both. But I *wont* let you ruin my marriage.”*
Antonias voice turned shrill. *”Fine! Go! But dont come crawling back when he dumps you for some tart!”*
Edward grabbed the suitcases Antonia had already packed (!) and hauled them out.
*”Ellie. Now.”*
Torn, Eleanor hesitatedthen Antonia wailed, clutching her chest.
*”Youre *abandoning* me! Ill *die* alone!”*
Guilt surged. Eleanor wavereduntil Edwards expression hardened.
*”Your call,”* he said, and walked out.
Three seconds of silence. Then
*”Stay,”* Antonia whispered. *”Please.”*
And Eleanor, hating herself, stayed.
Edward filed for divorce two weeks later.
The renovated flat stood emptytoo painful to visit. She rented it out.
Antonia, oddly, softened. Stopped the jibes. Started suggesting *”lovely lads from bridge club.”*
Some nights, Eleanor cried, wondering*what if*?
But life doesnt do rewinds.
So she moved forward.
One day at a time.
