Hey love, listen up Mum needs a hand with the balcony windows, she cant manage them herself, and weve got a decent grocery list for the week. Think you could pop over today?
James strutted into the kitchen in his wellworn trackies and a crumpled tee, the whole lazy Sunday vibe hanging off him. He grabbed a glass of water from the filter, barely noticing Emily. She was perched at the little table by the window, sipping her morning coffee, sunlight stitching funny patterns on the tablecloth while her mind seemed far away.
This wasnt the first time shed been asked for a favor like this. It all started with tiny requests: Emily, could you swing by mums with a loaf? Can you drop off her meds? Then it escalated to fullon trips across town with heavy bags, deepcleaning at her motherinlaws place, and even tiny repairs that Margaret the motherinlaw swore only someone spry and quick could do. Meanwhile James never really showed up for his own mum. He always had an excuse work, fatigue, or just dont feel like it. Youre free, arent you? hed say, and Emily would sigh, load the car, wash, fix, and listen patiently to Margarets endless rants about health, prices, neighbours, and how poor James got stuck with this.
Emilys tone was calm but steely, and James turned his head at it. James, Ive told you this before. Im your wife, not a personal assistant for your mum, and certainly not a free housekeeper. If Margaret needs serious help, why dont you do it yourself? Youve got a day off too, remember? Or have you forgotten?
James blinked, a little lost. Usually these talks ended with Emily giving in after a few more pleas.
Um I thought you he stammered, frowning. Its not that hard! The womens work washing windows, buying food youre better at that than I am.
Emily twisted her mouth in a way that promised trouble.
Womens work, huh? she said, dripping sarcasm. So lugging fivekilogram bags of potatoes up to the seventh floor and scrubbing windows is now exclusively a ladys duty? And you get to lounge on the sofa, conserving energy for the evening?
The tension in the room rose. James slammed his glass down, his face turning red.
Whats your problem now? I just asked! You know mums alone, shes getting on, its hard for her! Instead of helping, you throw a fit!
Fit? Emily raised an eyebrow. You call my refusal to be a slave a fit? Listen up.
What else?
Im your wife, not your errand girl! If your mum needs help, youre the one who should be there. Its your responsibility as a son. You think its okay to shove all that on me? Im not asking you to help my mum her problems are mine, and Ill deal with them myself. So, love, grab the list, a cloth, a bucket, and head to your mums. Use my gloves if youve run out. Ive got my own things to do. No more of these requests will be accepted. Clear?
James stared at her as if she were an alien. The usual giveandtake had shattered. Emily, whod always been the one to compromise, now stood firm, cold and decisive.
This is disrespectful, James! To my mum! he raised his voice, stepping forward.
Emily didnt flinch. No, James. Its respect for yourself. Basic selfrespect. If you cant see that, thats your problem.
She walked around the table, left the kitchen, and left him alone in the sunny patches, the comfort of the room suddenly cracked.
James followed her into the living room, where she had plonked herself with a book. He stopped in the doorway, fists clenched, anger flaming on his face.
You just decided to reject my request? To ignore my mum? Is that how a wife should act?
Emily lowered the book slowly. Do you think its normal, James, to dump a sons duties onto his wife? she asked, voice even. You talk about your mum but forget shes yours too. She has a son a grown, healthy man with a day off. Why does he send you instead of helping himself and leaving you to lounge?
Because it never bothered anyone before! James shouted, stepping into the room. You always helped, everything was fine! What changed? Did you get a crown or think youre special now?
It changed because I cant keep doing it, Emily replied calmly, no anger, just deepseated fatigue. Im tired of being the convenient helper for both of you, not a real person. Im exhausted when my time, energy, and wishes are ignored. You say you always agreed. Have you ever thought what it cost me? How many times I sacrificed my plans, my rest, even my health just to please you and your mum?
James waved his hand dismissively, like swatting a fly. Here we go again, the martyr act! No one forced you. You chose to do it, so you mustve liked it!
It was because I wanted peace at home, Emily said, a bitter grin curling her lips. I hoped youd notice, appreciate the effort. Instead you took it for granted, as if I owed your whole family. My own mum never asked you to come over and wash her windows or help in the garden, even when shes in a bind. She knows we have our own life. Your mum, though, treats me like a free resource you can call on whenever you like.
Dont compare them! James roared, his face twisted with rage. My mum always looked out for us! And now, when she asks for help, you act like a selfish brat! Its pure egoism!
And whos going to think of me if I dont? Emily stared straight into his eyes, fearless, confident. You? The man who never notices how I look after your mum? Or Margaret, who after a cleanup starts bragging about the neighbours daughterinlaw baking pies daily? No, James. This chapter is over. I wont be the doormat you wipe your feet on, hiding behind obligation and help to justify exploiting me.
The room crackled with tension. James felt his control slipping. His usual authority, his right to dictate, was crumbling. Hed grown used to Emily being soft, yielding. Now she was a cold, resolute force pulling him out of his comfort zone.
Youre ungrateful! he gasped, eyes wild. We love you, and you you dont value us at all! You dont care about our feelings!
Feelings, right? Emily laughed, but there was no joy in it. When was the last time you asked about mine, James? When I trudged home after a whole day with your mum and you just said, All good, did you finish everything? Good job. My needs? A bit of rest, a bit of normal attention? Never. Its easier to have a wife who silently does everything you ask.
James paced like a caged animal, his usual pressure tactics falling flat. It only made him more frantic.
Fine, he finally panted. If you wont do it nicely, Ill do it my way. Youll hear from my mum soon enough!
He fished out his phone, dialed quickly. Emily sat there, a faint smirk of contempt on her face. She knew this move the big gun of muminlaw on his side.
After a few rings, Margarets annoyed voice answered.
James, love, why are you calling so early? Im just trying not to get worked up.
Mum, can you imagine whats happening? James barked, so she could hear every word. I asked Emily to go to you, clean the windows and get groceries, like always. She threw a fit! She says youre my mum, so I should go myself and work, and shes not a girlserrandrunner! Can you believe that?
Silence fell heavy. Emilys eyes twinkled with a private chuckle. She knew how her mother liked to dramatise.
What what? Margaret finally managed, voice feigning surprise. She said that about me?
Yes, mum, exactly that! James blurted. She says youre my mother, not hers, and I should look after you! Shes being unreasonable! Im shocked!
Ah, James, the younger generation Margarets tone turned patronising. I thought youd be like a daughter to me but apparently not
Give me the phone, Emily said evenly.
James looked smug, thinking hed won.
Scared? Want to apologise to your mum?
Give it to me, she repeated, her voice so steady it made Jamess confidence wobble. He handed over the handset, speaker on.
Good afternoon, Margaret, Emily began, businesslike. I heard your conversation and Id like to set the record straight.
Emily, love, whats going on with James? Hes upset why are you talking like this to me? Were family, arent we?
Margaret, if you truly need heavy help washing windows, lugging groceries you should ask your son. Hes off today, healthy, and its his duty as a son to look after his mother. Im his wife, not your housekeeper.
Emily, dear, youre the lady of the house Margaret tried to sound sweet, but irritation crept in. James is a man, he has other responsibilities. Hes the breadwinner
I work too, Margaret, Emily cut in. My day off is just as valuable. Im not going to do free regular labour for your family. If cleaning is tough, maybe hire a cleaning service. Thats a realistic solution.
Cleaning service?! Margaret protested. Let strangers into my home? People will think Ive forgotten my son and daughterinlaw!
I dont care what strangers think, Emily said firmly. I care about my right to a life and rest. If James is ashamed to help his own mother, thats his problem, not mine.
A strained silence followed, only Margarets heavy breathing audible.
So thats it? Margaret finally hissed, her tone now icy. You think you can just take over the house? Fine, Emily Ill come over and sort this myself. If youre against the family, against order, against respecting elders, Ill handle it. Well have a proper chat, and youll learn how to behave.
She slammed the phone down. James shot Emily a triumphant glance, as if to say watch this. She simply placed the phone on the table, ready.
Forty minutes later, a sharp, urgent knock rattled the door the kind that makes you think someones trying to pry the whole frame off. James, whod been pacing like a nervous rabbit, lunged to answer. Emily stayed seated, her calm exterior belying the turbulence inside, but her resolve was steel.
Mum! Finally! You have no idea what just happened! James shouted from the hall, his voice a mix of indignation and righteous fury.
Margaret stormed in like a gale, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing, a halftucked scarf slipping off her shoulder. She was ready for battle.
Come here, you little thing! she snapped at Emily, who rose to meet her without flinching. How dare you? How can you tell my son what to do? How dare you speak to me like that?
Good afternoon, Margaret, Emily replied, keeping her politeness, which only seemed to fuel Margarets anger. Glad you could make it. Now we can discuss this calmly, without misunderstandings.
Discuss? Margaret shrieked. I have nothing to discuss with the woman whos insulting her own husbands mother! We took you into the family and you turn out to be a snake! Where was James when you were spouting this?
He was right there, mum! Margaret tried to back him up. He says I should wash the windows myself! He says youre not obliged!
I didnt just say that, James, Emily said placidly. I said the truth. Youre his mother, so hes the one who should look after you. If you think my wife should do it for you, youre either lazy or not a man at all.
How dare you? Margaret gasped. My son works! Hes exhausted! And you sit there doing nothing!
I work too, Margaret, Emilys voice grew firmer. I earn at least as much as your son. My home isnt a free service for your family. Youve raised a man who cant make a decision without you. Im done being the perpetual helper and scapegoat in this twisted family drama.
Her words landed like hard slaps. James was at a loss, his mother shaking with fury.
I gave him everything! Nights without sleep! And you show up with a cake and then judge me!
Thats exactly why hes still a dependent child, Emily retorted. He should have grown up by now. You keep him on a short leash. I wont be part of that any longer.
James finally exploded. Shut up! he roared, stepping forward. Youve crossed every line! My mother is a saint, and if you dont like anything, you can leave! I choose my mum! Shes the only one I have, and there are plenty like you out there!
Those words were the final blow. Emily stared at him with a long, cold gaze.
Fine, James, she said quietly but firmly. Youve made your choice. Now I know what youre worth. I dont want anything to do with you or your mum. Pack your stuff, or just go back to her. I dont care. This nightmare is over.
She turned away, signalling the end of the conversation. Behind them, the muffled cries of mother and son continued, but Emily no longer listened. She looked out the window at a brandnew day. A huge weight had lifted from her shoulders. Ahead was uncertainty, but also freedom. Behind her were two people who had lost more than a daughterinlaw or a wife theyd lost any chance of a normal life, trapped forever in their own toxic bubble.
