James set a condition
Emily stared at the flour scattered across the kitchen floor, fighting back tears. In the weak glow of the overhead light, the white streaks on the linoleum looked like delicate snowflakes. There was no time for poetryguests would arrive in an hour and the cake hadnt even been started.
Making a mess again? Jamess voice cut in as he entered the kitchen. My mothers coming, and youre as usual.
Emily pressed her lips together.
It wasnt on purpose, James. The bag ripped.
Everything you touch falls apart, drops, breaks, James snapped, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of sparkling water. Thirtyfive years old and still as clumsy as a child.
She began scooping the flour into a dustpan, swallowing her resentment. Ten years of this life had taught her to swallow tears.
Im off to pick up my mother, James glanced at his watch. Set the table by seven. Try not to embarrass us today, alright? Its her anniversary after all.
When his door slammed shut, Emily sank onto a stool and inhaled deeply. She remembered meeting James at the public library where she worked. He seemed so attentiveshowing up every day, borrowing books on her recommendation, staying late. Then hed invited her to the theatre. She felt like the heroine of a romance: a single mother from a previous marriage who had won the heart of a handsome, independent man. Who could have guessed the fairytale would end so abruptly?
Thomas, their teenage son, slipped into the kitchen like a silent ghost.
Are you doing it again? he asked, nodding toward the front door.
Enough, Emily snapped. Youre talking about your stepdad.
The one who treats you like a servant.
Emily had nothing to argue with. At sixteen, Thomas saw everything too clearly.
You should be doing your homework, not eavesdropping on adult conversations, she muttered, returning to the cleaning.
Thomas huffed but didnt argue. Instead he rolled up his sleeves and began helping his mother.
Mom, we need to talk, he said seriously. I want to apply to London for a programming degree after school.
London? Emily froze, a cloth in her hand. But we agreed on the local college, the halls, the
And James, who will keep nagging you at every opportunity, Thomas cut in. I cant watch that any longer, Mum.
This is adult life, Thomas. Families have their quirks, Emily replied.
Its not a family, Mum. Its He stopped, waved his hand, and left the kitchen.
By the time the guests arrived, Emily had managed to tidy up, set the table, and even bake an apple tarta point of pride in her culinary repertoire. Margaret Whitfield, Jamess mother, a dignified woman in an elegant dress, inspected the spread with a critical eye but said nothing. That felt like a small victory.
Please, sit down, Margaret, Emily hurried. Thomas and his friend will be here any moment.
Margaret lowered herself into a chair, adjusting her silverthreaded hair.
And wheres your boy? she asked, as if referring to a pet.
Thomas is in his room; Ill fetch him, Emily replied.
Studying, is he? Margaret teased. Whats the use of all that learning? Hell end up just like his father.
Emily fell silent, but did not answer. Margaret often dismissed Jamess first wife with contempt, even though shed never met her. Insulting a dead man seemed indecent to Emily, yet she dared not contradict her motherinlaw.
A knock on the door rescued her from further remarks. Claire and her husband Richard arrivedJamess sister and her successful businessman husband, whose presence always seemed to set James on edge.
Happy birthday, Mum! Claire rushed to embrace Margaret. You look stunning! You could pass for twentyfour!
Margarets face lit up; Claire always knew the right words.
Emily, Richard kissed Emilys hand, you look wonderful. New haircut?
Thank you, Emily replied shyly, catching Jamess displeased glance.
James began pouring champagne, deliberately ignoring Thomas, who stood off to the side.
To the birthday girl! he declared. To the best mother in the world!
And to Grandma! Claire added. By the way Mum, we have a surprise for you.
What kind of surprise? Margaret asked, wary.
Were expecting a baby! Claire announced proudly.
Margaret clapped her hands and burst into tears of joy. Richard beamed. James forced a smile.
Congratulations, Emily whispered. Thats wonderful news.
Why arent you having one yourself? Margaret suddenly asked, turning to Emily. James is almost forty and has no children of his own. Only anothers kid in the house.
Silence fell. Emily felt a flush rise to her cheeks.
Mom, weve talked about this, James muttered through clenched teeth.
What did we talk about? That your wife is building a career? Margaret snorted. What career does a librarian have, dear? All my grandchildrens mothers are nannies, and Im stuck watching your son. If only he were a polite lad
Enough, Margaret! Emily snapped. Thomas is right here.
Am I lying? Margaret turned to her grandson. He hides in his corner, never speaks. Supposedly hes off to London? What nonsense?
Emily stared at her son, stunned. How did his grandmother know his plans?
Ill earn my own money, Thomas said calmly. Ive already found a remote gig building websites.
What websites? James interjected. You should be focusing on your studies, not fooling around.
Its not fooling, its my future profession, Thomas replied firmly. And it pays decently.
Who gave you permission? James raised his voice. You live under my roof, you follow my rules!
Your roof, your rules, Thomas muttered. Im not even your son, am I? So I dont have to obey.
James turned bright red.
Exactly! Not my son! Youll never be one!
James! Emily shouted. Stop this right now!
What did I say? James shrugged. I spoke the truth! Ive fed him, clothed him for ten years, and get no gratitude. All he does is sit in his room staring at a computer. Now he wants to go to London without my consent!
So what? I dont care about your opinion. Youre nothing to me.
Thomas! Emily, desperate, looked from son to husband. James, please, not today. Its Margarets birthday.
No, its the perfect time! James persisted. Ive tolerated his nonsense for a decade, and now you expect me to fund his London studies?
Margaret nodded approvingly, Claire and Richard stared at their plates, and Thomas stood pale but composed.
Ill support myself, Thomas repeated. I dont need anything from you.
Really? James sneered. And the roof over your head? Food? Clothes? All mine! If you want to keep living like that, theres no London for you. Study here, under my watch. Thats my condition.
Emily felt something snap inside. Ten years of tolerating criticism, neglect, and indifferenceto keep a roof over their heads, to keep Thomas afloat. Now James was dictating terms for her son.
Perhaps its enough, she said quietly. Its Margarets birthday, and weve turned this into a scene.
Thats your sons doing, James retorted. Everything is always because of him. And you always cover for him! Ungrateful brat and a motherhen. Is that how youll continue to live off my neck?
Emily rose slowly from the table. The room fell into a heavy hush.
Ive worked thirtyfive years in a library, she declared, voice steadier than before. I hold two degrees. I never asked you to support my sonwe managed before you arrived.
Is that so? James mocked. I must have missed that.
Because I chose not to see it, Emily replied. You wanted a docile housekeeper, not a partner. I became that, but enough is enough.
What does that mean? James asked, frowning.
It means, Emily turned to Thomas, that Thomas and I are leaving.
A chilling silence settled over the room.
Youre insane, James finally blurted. Where will you go?
First to my sisters place, Emily answered calmly. Then well find a flat. Ill get a better jobmaybe even in London.
Thomas looked at his mother with awe, seeing a side of her hed never known.
Dont be ridiculous, James laughed nervously. Youll starve. What will you pay for a flat with those pennies from the library?
Its no longer your concern, Emily cut back. By the way, Im not just a librarian; Im the head librarian, and my salary is respectable. You never bothered to ask.
Enough! Richard, Claires husband, interjected. Weve had enough of this circus on a womans birthday.
James snarled, What are you doing, Richard? Stay out of our family business!
This isnt a family, Richard said, shaking his head. The way you treat your wife and stepson is beyond words.
Richard, stop, Claire tried to intervene, but it was too late.
Its necessary, Claire, Richard said firmly. Ive watched this nightmare for ten years. It ends now. James, youve become a tyrant. If Emily is leaving, its the best thing she can do.
Margaret gasped, How dare you! My son does everything for them, and they
Mother, Claire softened, Richard is right. Look at whats happening. Its terrible.
Emily, not waiting for more shouting, slipped out of the room, Thomas following. In the bedroom she quickly packed a suitcase, folding only the essentials.
Are you serious? Thomas asked, eyes wide.
More than serious, Emily nodded. Gather your things. Were leaving.
What about? he began, stumbling over words. We need money, a place to stay
I have some savings, Emily said, pulling a modest tin box from a wardrobesomething James never knew existed. Its not much, but itll get us started. My sisters house is waiting, and I have you, my clever boy, who wants to be a programmer. Well manage.
A knock sounded. Claire stood in the doorway.
You really are leaving? she asked softly.
Yes, Emily replied firmly. Weve had enough.
Claire hesitated, then reached into her purse and handed Emily an envelope.
Take this. Its from Richard and me. Weve wanted to help, but feared James would stop us.
Claire, I cant
You can, Claire insisted. Youve endured ten years of his bullying. Take it, not as charity but as recompense for the hurt youve endured.
Emily paused, then accepted the envelope.
Thank you, she whispered. And Im sorry for ruining the celebration.
Celebration? Claire waved her hand. At least now James might think twice before his behaviour.
When Emily and Thomas emerged from the house, the tension was palpable. James stared, Margaret pursed her lips, and Richard watched with a faint smile.
Were leaving, Emily said simply. Thank you, James. And forgive us if were harsh.
James tried to speak, but his words stuck.
Enough drama, Richard said, rubbing his temple. Do you need a lift?
No, thank you, Emily replied. Well take a cab.
As the door shut behind them, Emily felt an unexpected lightness, as if a heavy burden had been lifted after a decade. Thomas slipped his hand into hers, just as he used to when they were younger.
Youre amazing, Mum, he whispered. Im proud of you.
Thanks, love, Emily smiled. And you know what? London might just be the fresh start we need.
They descended the stairs and stepped out into the early May evening, the scent of blooming hawthorn filling the air.
Emilys phone rang. She saw Jamess name on the screen.
Dont answer, Thomas urged.
But Emily shook her head and said, Hello?
Come back at once! James roared through the line. I wont let you go! Take the boy, but you stay. Thats my condition!
Emily laughed, a sound that felt new and free.
You no longer have the right to set conditions for me, James, she said. No more conditions. Never.
She hung up, called a taxi, and slipped into the cab that whisked them toward a new chapter.
Back in the flat on the fourth floor, James, furious, hurled his phone against the wall and turned to Margaret, hoping for support. Margaret stared at her son with a strange new understanding, as if seeing him clearly for the first time.
You really are unbearable, James, she said quietly. How did I not notice before?
Tears slipped down her cheeksnot of bitterness, but of regret. For the first time in years she mourned her own mistakes, the choices that had raised a selfish son who could not love. And perhaps, just perhaps, it was never too late to change. The lesson lingered: true respect cannot be demanded; it must be earned through kindness, not control.
