**An Evening That Changed Everything**
Last night began like any ordinary family dinner, but by the time the plates were cleared, my world had tilted on its axis. My husband, Edward, had his mother, Agatha, round for supper, and Id done my best to make it pleasantlaid out the good china, whipped up her favourite roast with all the trimmings, even lit a few candles for atmosphere. Id imagined wed natter about the weather or plan a trip to the countryside. Instead, I found myself trapped in the most surreal and gutting conversation of my life. Agatha fixed me with a stare and said, Eleanor, if you refuse to cooperate, Edward will file for divorce. The words hit me like a bucket of icy water. I sat there, knife hovering over my Yorkshire pudding, too stunned to speak.
Edward and I have been married five years. Like any couple, weve had our squabblesmisunderstandings over the laundry, the odd spat about moneybut Id always believed we were in it together. Hes gentle, thoughtful, and even when things get heated, weve muddled through. Agathas been a constant presence, popping in unannounced, ringing up with friendly advice that often feels more like marching orders. Still, Ive bitten my tongue out of respect. But last night, she went too far, and Edwardworst of alllet her.
It began innocently enough. Over roast potatoes and gravy, Agatha chattered about her neighbours new Labrador, and Edward joked about his boss at the bank. Then, without warning, her tone turned sharp. Eleanor, she said, Edward and I need to have a serious word with you. I braced for some minor gripeperhaps about us visiting more or helping her sort the attic. Instead, she announced she wanted us to move into her cottage in the Cotswolds.
Turns out, Agathas decided her three-bedroom cottage is too large for one, and she expects us to relocate there. Plenty of space, she insisted. Youd sell your flat in Chelsea, put the proceeds toward sprucing the place up. Practical, reallyId lend a hand with cooking, youd keep me company. I nearly choked on my peas. Edward and I only just finished painting our little flatour sanctuary, where weve built our life. Moving in with her would mean surrendering our privacy, and lets just say, living under Agathas thumb isnt my idea of marital bliss.
I tried to soften the blow, thanking her but explaining we werent keen to uproot. I said we adored our home and would happily help in other ways. Agatha cut me off, accusing me of disrespecting family values, claiming young couples these days are selfish, and insisting Edward deserved a wife whod heed his mother. Then came the divorce bombshell. Edward, whod been silent as a graveyard, finally piped up: Ellie, you know how much Mum means to me. We ought to step up. My stomach plummeted.
I gaped at Edward, waiting for him to laugh it off as some twisted joke. He looked away. Agatha ploughed on, calling it for the best, babbling about keeping family close like it was some sacred tradition. I clamped my lips shut, fearing Id either weep or unleash words I couldnt take back. The rest of dinner passed in suffocating quiet. Afterward, Edward saw her to a black cab, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.
When he returned, I asked, Ed, are you truly considering this? And what in Gods name was that threat about? He sighed, saying he didnt want a row, but his mum needs us, and I should be more accommodating. I was floored. Was he really ready to toss our marriage aside over this? I reminded him how wed chosen our flat together, how wed dreamed of a life just ours. He just shrugged. Think it over, Ellie. Its not half as bad as youre making out.
I barely slept a wink, replaying every word. I love Edward, but the idea of him choosing Agatha over *us* feels like a knife to the ribs. Yet I cant surrender my freedom just to appease her. Agatha isnt cruel, but her demands are suffocating. I wont live where every choice is scrutinised, nor let our marriage hinge on bending to her will.
Today, Ill talk to Edward againcalmly. I need to know if theres room for compromise. Perhaps we could visit weekends or hire a carer to ease her loneliness. But if he digs in his heels, Im at a loss. I wont forsake our family, but I wont forsake myself either. Last night laid bare cracks Id never seen. Now, Ive the grim task of salvaging our happiness without losing the man I love. Funny how one supper can force you to reckon with everything youve builtor risk watching it crumble.
