15April
I woke early, the smell of fried fish already hanging in the kitchen, a scent Ive loathed since childhood and my motherinlaw, Eleanor Green, knows all too well. Good morning, she muttered, setting a hefty slice of fish on a plate. Breakfast will be ready soon. I poured a mug of coffee, glanced at the clock, and told her Id grab a bite at the office. Im in a hurry.
Of course, she sighed dramatically, as if my modest breakfast were an affront. Mrs. Hartley never gets anything decent enough for a gentlemans palate.
Harriet shuffled in, still in nightclothes, rubbing her eyes. Already off already? The taxis waiting, she said, pulling her phone from her bag. I smiled, kissed her cheek, and slipped on my jacket. Shes made us a fish dinner, love.
She wrinkled her nose. Oh, great again, she complained, then paused. Ill have a word with Eleanor later.
Id rather not, I replied, weary. She wont help anyway.
The day at work dragged on, my mind constantly drifting back to the flat. At lunch, Harriet called. Moms rummaging through your wardrobe again, she whispered, tension evident. She says shes tidying up. I told her you dont like anyone touching your things, and she took it personally.
I’m fed up, I snapped, though I quickly lowered my voice. Why does she think she can run the household?
She just wants to be useful, Harriet defended. Shes always bustling about, needs something to keep her hands busy.
My turn, I shouted, realizing the office might hear. Let her mind her own business! I hung up, staring out the window. Perhaps I should have asked her to move back into her own flat after her husbands death shed sold theirs almost immediately, saying the memories were too heavy. Now there was no way back.
The evening finally arrived. The corporate dinner was at The Savoys grand restaurant in the heart of London. The décor was elegant, live piano music floated through the room, and colleagues glittered in their finest. Harriet glowed in a navy dress, turning heads as we entered.
Victor Sinclair, the company director, greeted us at the bar. What a splendid wife you have, Andrew, he said, nodding at Harriet. A true lady.
Thank you, I replied, pride swelling as I watched her chat animatedly with Victors wife. Weve been married fifteen years this April.
Victor smiled. Impressive. Any children?
No, I shook my head. We tried, but the doctors said everything was fine just wait. Then we decided we were happy as we were.
I kept to two glasses of wine, never overindulging a habit I cling to despite Eleanors constant critique. By eleven the crowd began to thin.
Shall we stay a bit longer? Harriet asked, eyes sparkling. Just a few more dances.
Give me half an hour, then well head home, I agreed. Tomorrows a workday.
She tugged me onto the dance floor. Under a slow melody we swirled, feeling the youth of our early marriage. I pressed her close, inhaling the faint perfume she wore, thinking perhaps the whole motherinlaw saga wasnt so terrible after all. Many couples live under one roof with parents; its just part of life.
We returned home close to midnight. The flat was lit, though we hoped Eleanor was asleep. The moment we crossed the threshold, a voice called out from the hallway.
You finally showed up, she announced. I was about to call the police.
Mother, its just the corporate dinner, Harriet sighed, exhausted. You always used to come back that late?
In my day decent folk didnt stay out so late, Eleanor muttered, pursing her lips. And youve been bringing home alcohol, Andrew.
Ive only had two glasses all night, I defended, trying to stay calm.
Everyone says that, she replied.
Harriet intervened. Lets talk tomorrow, please.
Eleanor huffed, Of course, of course. My opinions matter to no one.
I slipped away to the bathroom, letting the hot water rinse away the tension that had built over fifteen years of marriage. It felt like the first time Id ever felt such a strain. When I returned, Harriet was already in bed.
Dont let her get to you, she whispered. Shes struggling after your fathers death.
I know, I said, lying beside her. But this has been three months of nonstop commentary. Shes always there, always watching.
Give her time, Harriet stroked my hand. Shell adjust.
I wanted to admit I was scaredscared of the constant criticism, of having to justify every move, of losing any sense of personal space. I stayed silent as Harriet drifted to sleep, knowing a demanding workday awaited.
Morning came with the same fishy aroma. Eleanor, ever precise, stared at me. Breakfast is almost ready.
Thanks, but Ill have a sandwich at the office, I replied, grabbing my coffee in a hurry.
Always the same, she sighed theatrically. My cooking never satisfies the gentlemans palate.
Harriet entered, still halfasleep. Already leaving?
Yes, a lot to do, I kissed her and slipped out. The hallway caught my eye as Eleanors voice followed me.
Dont forget to lock the door at night, dear, she called.
Dont lock it, Harriet answered with a grin. We have the keys.
At work, the day stretched on, my mind plagued by thoughts of home. At lunch, Harriets text pinged: Mom was in my wardrobe, saying she was organising. I told her you dont like anyone touching your stuff, and she got upset.
Harriet, Im exhausted, I typed back. Why does she think she can dictate what happens in our flat?
She just wants to help, she replied. Shes always busy, needs something to do.
Tell her to mind her own business! I typed, then deleted it, realizing coworkers could see my screen. Ill call later, cant talk now.
I stared out the window, wondering if perhaps I should have asked Eleanor to move into her own flat again. After her husbands death shed sold theirs, saying the memories were too heavy. Now there was nowhere else for her.
That evening, the office ran late and I lingered, not wanting to go back to the tension at home. When I finally arrived, Harriet was waiting, guilt in her eyes.
What happened? I asked, slipping off my shoes.
Mom accidentally knocked over your model plane, she whispered. The one you brought back from Germany.
My heart stopped. The Messerschmitt replica was my pride, painstakingly assembled over months.
Accidentally? I asked, voice tight.
Yes, she was vacuuming, hit the wardrobe, and the model fell.
Why was she vacuuming in my study? I asked, anger bubbling. We agreed that was offlimits!
She wanted to do something nice, Harriet said, eyes downcast. She knew Id be late and tried to tidy up.
Where is she now?
She went to a neighbours, said shed return when youre calmer.
I walked into the study. The model lay shattered on the carpetwing pieces broken, fuselage split. Years of work reduced to splinters.
This is the last straw, I muttered, staring at the wreckage.
Andrew, please, Harriet pleaded, standing behind me. She didnt mean it.
Its not about the plane, I turned to her, voice steady. Its about your mother ignoring our boundaries, our rules, our relationship. She constantly intervenes.
Shes only worried about us, Harriet replied, but the conviction in her voice wavered.
No, shes controlling, I said firmly. I cant live like this any longer.
What do you mean? fear flickered in Harriets eyes.
Either your mother moves out, or we divorce, I declared, the ultimatum hanging heavy in the room. Im not joking. Im at my limit.
Harriet recoiled as if struck. You cant be serious! Kick my own mother out?
Im not kicking her out, I clarified. She could rent a flat nearby. Wed help financially, visit often. But we cant keep living under the same roof.
What if I choose my mother? she whispered.
Then well have to part ways, I answered quietly. Fifteen years Ive put you first; the past three months I feel like a guest in my own home.
Tears streamed down Harriets face. Its unfair! Mother is lonely, she needs support!
And I need my wife, my home, a place where I can unwind without waiting for the next comment or intrusion.
The front door slammed open Eleanor had just returned. Hearing our voices, she marched in. Ah, youve finally come, she began, eyes narrowing. Probably told me all sorts of nasty things about me? I, by the way, only wanted the best. Your little toy was already gathering dust, no use to anyone.
Mother! Harriet cried. Not now, please.
When? Eleanor snapped. When will my soninlaw finally listen to the truth? He
Enough, I interrupted, surprised by my own calm. Eleanor, lets sit and speak like adults.
She fell silent, stunned. We moved to the sitting room, taking our places: me in an armchair, Harriet and her mother on the sofa.
I understand your situation, I started. Losing a husband after so many years is hard. But you must also understand us. Harriet and I have built a life together over fifteen years. Now that life is under threat.
Because of me? Eleanor retorted, huffing.
Yes, I answered plainly. Because of constant control, remarks, meddling. I feel like a stranger in my own house.
This is my home now too, she declared stubbornly.
Thats exactly what I want to discuss, I said, keeping my tone even. I think it would be better for you to live separately.
Youre kicking my mother onto the street? Eleanor shouted, flinging her hands. Thats absurd!
No one is being thrown out, I replied patiently. Well help you find a nearby flat, visit, support financially.
What if I refuse? she asked, crossing her arms.
Then, Im afraid Harriet and I cant continue living together, I said, looking at my wife. Ive already said this to her.
Youre a blackmailer! Eleanor exploded. Harriet, youll stand for this?
Harriets tearstreaked face lifted. I dont know what to do, Mother. I love you both. But Andrew is rightthese months have been tough for everyone.
So you want me to go? Eleanors voice trembled with hurt.
I want us all to be happy, Harriet whispered. Right now, no one is.
Silence settled. Eleanor glanced between her daughter and soninlaw, as if seeing them for the first time.
I never imagined it would be this bad, she finally said. I thought I was helping.
We appreciate your care, Andrew said gently. But sometimes care can become overbearing.
Eleanor lowered her head. After your father died I feared being alone, the silence, the emptiness. Thats why I inserted myself everywhereto feel needed.
Harriet embraced her mother. We love you, Mum. Youll always be part of our lives. But perhaps Andrews right. Maybe its better if you live nearby, but not under the same roof?
Eleanor stayed quiet for a long while, then sighed. Perhaps youre right. I didnt want to admit it, but Ive overstepped. Its hard to accept that Im no longer the centre of my daughters world.
Youll always be important to us, Andrew said. We just need to respect each others boundaries.
We talked long into the night about plans, about the future, about how to rebuild our relationships. For the first time in three months, I felt heard. I saw Eleanor not as an enemy, but as a lonely woman scared of becoming irrelevant.
The next day Harriet found an advertisement for a onebedroom flat in a neighboring block. Andrew and I inspected it, paid the deposit, and helped Eleanor move in a week later.
Are you still angry with me? Harriet asked when we returned to our flat after the move.
For what? I replied, surprised.
For the ultimatum. It was harsh.
Sometimes you have to be firm to protect what truly matters, I said, pulling her close. I didnt want to lose you, but I couldnt keep living like that.
You know, Harriet mused, it might be for the best. Mum looks almost happy now. Shes joined a senior club.
See? She needed her own life, not just to look after us.
We sat on the couch in the quiet of our flat, the only sound the soft buzz of the phone. A message from Eleanor popped up, a picture of her new living room, bright with fresh flowers and family photos.
It looks like everythings falling into place, Harriet smiled.
I nodded, feeling the weight of the past months lift. Sometimes you have to push to the edge to find a new path. Sometimes taking a risk saves the things you cherish most. And even the toughest ultimatums can end in a happy resolution for everyone.
