I endured my mother-in-laws jibes for twenty years, but her last words left me horrified.
“You shouldnt have shouted at her like that, Emily. Shes old now,” James said, setting his mug down and giving his wife a guilty look.
“Old? Was she old when she made my life miserable?” Emily spun around from the window. “Twenty years, James! Twenty years Ive put up with her nonsense!”
“But shes ill now…”
“Ill!” Emily scoffed. “Shes ill when it suits her. But when shes snapping at Mrs. Jenkins next door or winding me up, shes suddenly the picture of health.”
James sipped his tea in silence. He was exhausted by the endless arguments between his wife and his mother. The same routine every dayhis mum would say something, Emily would flare up, doors would slam, and harsh words would fly.
“What exactly did she say?” he asked, though he knew hed regret it.
Emily closed her eyes as if gathering strength.
“She said Im a terrible housewife. That my soup is tasteless, the house is a mess, and the kids are spoiled. Then she added that I ought to learn a thing or two from Lucyyour brothers wife. Apparently, *she* knows how to cook and clean properly.”
“Mums just… she likes to be in control.”
“Likes to be in control!” Emilys voice rose sharply. “And what about me? Am I not used to cooking dinner after work, doing the laundry, scrubbing floors? Am I not used to hearing every day how worthless I am?”
James stood, reaching for her, but she pulled away.
“Do you know what she said to me before she left?” Emily wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “That when youre gone, Ill still end up alone. Because no one would want someone like me.”
James froze, arms still outstretched.
“She didnt say that…”
“She did! Word for word! Then she slammed the door so hard the plaster shook.”
Footsteps padded down the hallway. The door creaked open, and ten-year-old Lily peeked in.
“Mum, has Gran gone? She didnt say anything to me,” the girl murmured, wrapping her arms around Emilys waist.
“Shes gone, sweetheart. Back to her place,” Emily stroked her daughters hair.
“Why were you shouting again? It scares me when you fight.”
Emily crouched to meet Lilys eyes.
“Im sorry, love. Grown-ups dont always agree. But it doesnt mean we dont love each other.”
“Gran doesnt love you,” Lily said quietly. “Shes always cross with you. And it makes me sad.”
Emily hugged her tightly, tears spilling again.
“Go finish your homework, darling. Dad and I need to talk.”
Once Lily left, James sat beside his wife.
“Em, Ill speak to Mum. Ill make her understand”
“Understand what?” Emily said wearily. “Youve been saying that for twenty years. It never changes.”
“Then what do we do?”
Emily studied her hands in silencehands that had washed dishes, scrubbed laundry, ironed school uniforms. Hands that worked eight-hour shifts at the shop and still kept the house running. And yet her mother-in-law called her a bad wife.
“Do you remember how we met?” she asked suddenly.
James blinked. “Of course. At the dance hall. You were wearing that blue dress.”
“*Sky* blue,” Emily corrected with a sad smile. “I thought you were the handsomest man alive. And your mother hated me from the start.”
“She was just worried about me settling down”
“James, stop making excuses!” Emily snapped. “She hated me because I wasnt posh enough. Because my parents lived in a tiny flat and Dad was a mechanic, not some high-flying engineer like yours.”
“That was years ago…”
“Years? Remember our wedding? Your mum scowled the whole time. And when we moved in with her, the first thing she said was that her house had rulesand Id better follow them.”
Emily stood, filling the kettle.
“Twenty years, James. Twenty years Ive tried to please her. Cooked her favourites. Cleaned her way. Raised the kids by her rules. And what do I get in return?”
“Mum *does* appreciate you”
“Appreciates me?” Emily laughed bitterly. “She *tolerates* me. Theres a difference.”
The kettle boiled. She made tea, sat back down.
“You know what I dream about?” she said quietly. “Waking up and not worrying if my breakfast will meet her standards. Coming home from work and not dreading her dust inspections. Buying the kids sweets without hearing Im ruining their teeth.”
“Em”
“Let me finish. I dream of living in *our* home. Where no one picks apart everything I do. Where the kids dont hear us arguing every day.”
James took her hand.
“But Mums on her own. Wholl look after her?”
“And wholl look after *me*?” Emilys voice cracked. “When I had pneumonia, your mum never once brought me tea. Yet she still expected dinner because my soup wasnt good enough.”
“That was ages ago”
“And four years ago when I had surgery. And three years ago when I broke my wrist. *Every time*, James. Every time, it was my fault for failing her.”
The doorbell rang. James answered, returning with their neighbour, Mrs. Wilkins.
“Hello, love,” Mrs. Wilkins said, declining tea. “Heard Margaret was in a state earlier. Thought Id check in.”
“In a state,” Emily muttered.
“Dont be too hard on her, dear. Shes poorly, set in her ways. Old folks get difficult.”
“Mrs. Wilkins, do you know what she said to me today?”
When Emily repeated it, the neighbour sighed.
“Oh, Emily. Margaret didnt mean it. She knows shed be lost without you.”
“Knows? If she knows, why does she treat me like dirt?”
“She *does* appreciate youjust shows it poorly. Why, shes always telling me what a fine wife you are! How well you manage the kids, keep the house…”
Emily stared.
“Really?”
“Absolutely! Says youre a wonderful mother, cook brilliantlyshes just too proud to say it to your face.”
“Then why the constant criticism?”
Mrs. Wilkins glanced at James, then back at Emily.
“Youre a clever woman, dear. Margarets been the matriarch since her husband died. Then you came alongyoung, lovely. James adores you. She felt… replaced.”
“I never tried to take her son”
“No, but you *have* his love. And thats hard for a mother. Especially one like Margaret.”
Emily swallowed. The words made sense, but they didnt ease the hurt.
“So what? I just keep enduring?”
“Try talking to her gently. No shouting. Say you value her advice, want to be a good daughter-in-law.”
“I *have* tried, Mrs. Wilkins. So many times.”
The neighbour stood to leave.
“Well, its your choice. But rememberbreaking a familys easy. Mending it? Thats the hard part.”
After she left, Emily and James sat in silence. Dusk fell outside; a dog barked in the distance.
“James… what if we rented a place?” Emily whispered.
“We cant afford it.”
“I could pick up extra shifts. The corner shop needs weekend staff.”
“And Mum?”
“She stays here. Its her home. Well find somewhere smalljust ours.”
James hesitated, then nodded.
“Maybe its time.”
“Maybe?” Emily turned to him. “James, I cant do this anymore. Im *exhausted*. Im forty years old and I still feel like a scolded child.”
“Alright,” he said softly. “Well start looking.”
Emily hugged him, resting her head on his shoulder. For the first time in years, she dared to hope for a life of her own.
“What if your mum objects?”
“She objects to everything. But this is *our* decision.”
The next evening, Emily returned from work to find Margaret at the stove, stubbornly avoiding her gaze.
“Hello,” Emily said.
“Evening,” Margaret grunted. “No food for the kids, so I had to step in.”
Emily bit back a retort, remembering their plan. They just needed to find a place.
“Thank you. Ill change and help.”
Margaret blinked, unused to the calm reply.
“Dont bother. Ive got it.”
“Suit yourself,” Emily said evenly, heading to the bedroom.
As she changed, she heard Margaret rattling pansclearly waiting for a fight that didnt come.
At dinner, Emily stayed quiet, answering only the childrens questions. James, too, was reserved. Lily
