Arthur was standing in the middle of the kitchen, phone clenched in his hand, his face flushed with anger.
Did my mother really say Im a lousy husband? he shouted.
Lucy turned away from the stove where shed been frying meatballs. A speck of oil sizzled on the linoleum.
What? What are you on about? she asked.
My mum just called. She says she knows everything about us that I dont appreciate you, that I act like a child, that shes got it all figured out.
Arthur, I never told my mother anything. We havent spoken in a week.
Then how does she know about our fight over the fishing trip? I only mentioned that yesterday!
Lucy switched off the burner, wiped her hands on a towel, and felt her heart thudding. She hadnt told anyone about the fishing trip. Except
I was texting Sarah, she said slowly. Just Sarah the chat.
And now Sarahs reporting my private life to my mum?
No way. Sarahs my best friend, shed never
The phone rang. It was Arthurs mother. Lucy looked at him; he just nodded, as if to say, Answer.
Hello, Margaret.
Lucy, I need to have a serious talk with you. Can you come over this afternoon?
Whats happened?
Youll see. Its important.
Lucy agreed, hung up, and felt her hands shake. How could her motherinlaw have found out about the messages to Sarah?
Im going to her, she told Arthur. We need to sort this out.
Arthur nodded, his expression grim. Theyd been together five years, relatively smooth, but Margaret had always been a thorn. She was domineering, convinced nobody was good enough for her son. Lucy tried to keep the peace, but sometimes she snapped, and those moments she confided in Sarah the university mate whod been her rock for fifteen years.
Sarah knew everything: the first crushes, the wedding planning, the endless venting about family. And now, somehow, Margaret had seen those texts.
Lucy threw on a coat and drove to Margarets flat in a neighbouring suburb, a tidy threebedroom unit where Arthur had grown up. Margaret was a widow for ten years, devoted entirely to her son, believing she had the right to steer every step he took.
Margaret opened the door, her face stern.
Come in. Want a cuppa?
No, thanks. Margaret, whats going on?
Margaret led Lucy into the sitting room, sank into her favourite armchair, and gestured for Lucy to sit.
Take a seat, dont just stand there like a statue.
She perched on the edge of the sofa, eyes fixed on Lucy.
Ive always felt you werent genuine with me. You smile, you nod, but behind my back you say all sorts of things.
I dont understand what you mean.
Margaret handed her the phone. On the screen was the whole chat with Sarah. Lucy recognised her own words, scrolling down, deeper and deeper. Complaints about Margaret meddling, irritation at her tenaday calls, annoyance about Lucys cooking.
Where did you get this? Lucy whispered.
Sarah was here yesterday. We had tea, she showed me some photos and the conversation popped up. She said she wanted me to see the truth about how you really feel.
Lucy felt the blood drain from her face. Sarah. Her best mate. Why?
This is private, Lucy protested. Everyone needs a place to vent. It doesnt mean I dont respect you.
Respect? Look at what you wrote! That Im an old fool, that Im suffocating you, that youd rather move to your sisters cottage and leave us alone, that Arthur is his mothers boy who cant stand up to me.
Tears welled as Lucy tried to explain. I was angry when I wrote those things. We all have weak moments.
Weak moments? Youve been hating me for years in hundreds of messages!
Lucy stood up. I never hated you. I just got fed up with the pressure and needed to share it with someone.
Margaret rose too. Ill show this to everyone I know. Let them see the real you.
What?
Youll learn what it feels like to be mocked behind your back.
Lucy snatched her bag and bolted, stumbling down the stairs, tears blurring her vision. She got into the car, but the engine wouldnt turn. Her hands trembled so hard the key kept slipping.
She dialed Sarah. After a long wait, Sarah answered.
Hey, Lucy! How are you?
How could you?
What do you mean?
Dont play dumb! You showed the messages to my mother!
There was a pause.
Right I I kind of did. It was accidental.
Accidental? You went over to her on purpose!
I just wanted to meet Arthurs mum, thats all. We chatted, I showed her some pictures from my phone and the chat popped up. I didnt mean to
Dont lie to me! Why would you do that?
Sarah sighed. Lucy, Im tired of being your emotional punching bag. Fifteen years youve vented about everyone parents, classmates, bosses, now my motherinlaw and Arthur. Im fed up.
If youre fed up, why not just say so? Why sabotage me?
It wasnt sabotage. It was the truth. Margaret has a right to know how you feel about her.
You and I have been friends for fifteen years!
We were, Lucy. But I cant keep listening to endless complaints without any change.
Sarah hung up. Lucy stared at her dead phone screen, feeling the world crumble. Her motherinlaw was now openly hostile, her husband looked upset, her best friend had betrayed her.
She started the car and drove home. Arthur met her at the hallway.
So?
Sarah deliberately showed the messages.
Why?
I dont know. She said she was tired of being my crybag.
Arthur pulled her into a hug. She sobbed into his shoulder.
Itll be okay, he said. Well sort it out.
My mum showed the chat to everybody. Now they all know what I wrote.
What exactly did you write?
Lucy stepped back, looking at him.
Things like your mum is a pest, you act like a child, its hard for me.
Arthur frowned. So youve been venting about me to Sarah for years?
Not every year, just when things get tough.
What did you actually say?
Arthur, nows not the time.
No, it is. I want to know what youve been saying about me behind my back.
Lucy went to the sofa, her head pounding. Arthur sat opposite her.
Spill it, he said.
She swallowed. I wrote that youre too attached to your mum, that youre scared to contradict her. That when she visits you become a different person.
Arthurs eyes narrowed. Remember the bedroom wallpaper debacle? We chose it together, then she called it tasteless and you went along. We ended up with her choice.
Or the fathers birthday I wanted to attend, and your mum said hers was the same day, so we had to be with her. I didnt even try to reschedule.
Birthdays cant be moved, Arthur replied.
It could have been. My dads 60th, a big deal.
My mum is more important.
Lucy stared at him. See? You just said that. And now youre mad I told Sarah.
Former friend, apparently.
Yes, former.
They sat in silence as dusk fell, the oncehot meatballs on the stove long turned cold and hard.
The phone rang again, an unknown number.
Hello?
This is Tamara Clarke, a friend of Margarets. She showed me your chat.
Lucy shut her eyes. And?
I just wanted to say youre right. Margaret is overcontrolling, always meddling. Ive known her for thirty years, and shes a nightmare. Youre just venting, which is fine. Its not a crime.
Thanks, Lucy managed.
And your friend Sarah? That was vicious. Dont keep her in your life.
I wont.
Tamara hung up. Arthur raised an eyebrow. Tamara Clarke? Shes always been on mums side.
Even her friends see shes over the line.
The line kept ringing that night neighbours, distant relatives, people taking sides. Some condemned Lucy, others backed her. One lady called her ungrateful, another said shed suffered the same with a motherinlaw.
Turn it off, Arthur suggested. Well deal with this tomorrow.
Lucy did. They ate dinner in silence, then went to bed, but sleep wouldnt come. She lay staring at the ceiling, replaying everything.
Sarah had been her confidante for fifteen years from the first time she fell for Arthur, to planning the wedding, to holding her hand after a miscarriage. And now shed deliberately shown the messages to Margaret. Why?
The next morning Lucy woke with puffy eyes. Arthur was already at the kitchen, sipping coffee.
Morning. How did you sleep?
Terribly.
Maybe we should talk to Sarah, find out why she did it.
I have nothing to say to her.
But fifteen years of friendship isnt thrown away so easily.
Its her who threw it away.
Arthur stayed quiet, finishing his coffee.
I called Margaret. Told her she was wrong to broadcast the messages.
What did she say?
She said she had a right to defend herself. She felt hurt by what I wrote.
Obviously.
Do you think you should have never written those things?
She snapped at him. What?
I mean, venting can be dangerous. Sooner or later it surfaces.
So Im to blame?
I didnt mean it like that.
You meant it like that! My friend betrayed me, your mum publicly shamed me, and youre saying Im at fault!
Im just saying we couldve been more careful.
This was a private chat! I have the right to vent.
Yes, you do. But the fallout is real too.
Lucy stormed to the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, trying to steady herself. Arthur wasnt on her side, as usual when his mum was involved.
A knock at the door. Lucy peeked through the peephole it was Sarah.
Dont open, Arthur said, moving toward the door.
Im not going to, Lucy replied.
Lucy, open up! I need to talk! Sarah was pounding.
Go away. I have nothing to say.
Please! I need to explain!
Its too late for explanations.
I didnt want this to happen! I swear!
Sarahs voice softened. I thought if Margaret knew how you really felt, shed back off. I was naive.
Lucy opened the door. Sarah stood there, pale, eyes red.
You really thought that would work?
I wanted to help. Youve been complaining for years; I was tired of hearing it. I thought the truth would set things right.
People like Margaret dont change. They get worse when challenged.
I didnt think it through. Im sorry.
Arthur stepped in. Sarah, why did you tell Lucy you were fed up being her crybag? Why cut off contact?
Sarah lowered her gaze. I was angry. Lucy shouted at me, blamed me. I snapped.
Do you really feel that way? Lucy asked. That Im just a whiner?
Sometimes. But that doesnt mean I dont want to be friends. Everyone gets weary.
Lucy stared at her former best friend, broken and ashamed. Fifteen years of history hanging by a thread.
I cant talk right now, Lucy said. I need time.
How long?
Honestly, I dont know. A week, a month, maybe never.
Lucy
Leave, please.
Sarah nodded and left. Lucy shut the door, leaned against it, and Arthur wrapped his arms around her.
Sorry for what I said earlier. Youre not at fault. Its Sarah and my mum.
Thanks, she whispered.
They stood like that, hugging in the hallway, then Arthur spoke.
I want to apologise too. Ive always sidelined with my mum. Im scared to disagree with her, afraid of a scene. Thats wrong. Youre my wife, I should protect you, not her.
Lucy looked up. Really?
Its true. From today things will be different. I promise.
He drove to his mother later, returned after a couple of hours, exhausted but hopeful.
We talked. I told her showing the messages to everyone was low. If she wants to be part of our life, she must respect our boundaries, he said.
How did she react?
She was angry, then cried, then finally admitted shed gone too far. She said shed apologize to you.
Seriously?
Im not sure shell keep her word, but at least she tried.
That evening Margaret called. Her voice was tight.
Lucy, I rushed to show the chat. I I was angry. Arthur explained that everyone deserves privacy.
Did you understand why it hurt me?
It hurt because I was hurt too. Ive always tried to be a good motherinlaw.
Lucy took a breath. Lets agree: Ill try to be more open with you about my concerns, and youll try not to intrude where youre not asked.
There was a pause. Agreed, Margaret said softly.
They hung up. Lucy looked at Arthur.
Looks like weve made some progress.
Good job, love. He smiled.
A week later Sarah kept texting, apologising, asking to meet. Lucy didnt reply. She needed space to sort her feelings. Fifteen years of friendship is a lot, but the betrayal was deep. Could she ever forgive?
She booked an appointment with a therapist, a kind woman in her sixties with gentle eyes, who listened.
You have the right not to forgive, the therapist said. But holding onto anger will eat you. Forgiveness is for you, not for them. You can forgive without rekindling the friendship, or you can set new boundaries if you try again.
Lucy thought about it. The therapist was right. She drafted an email to Sarah, proposing a coffee meetup.
Sarah arrived early, waited at the table. When Lucy walked in, Sarah stood, eyes bright but nervous.
Thanks for meeting, Sarah said.
I thought we needed to talk properly, Lucy replied.
They ordered coffee. I really thought you were helping, Lucy began. I was angry, yes, but I didnt expect you to betray me like that.
I was naïve, Sarah admitted. I thought exposing the truth would stop my mums meddling. I didnt consider the damage.
Did you ever feel tired of my venting?
Yes, sometimes. But I shouldve said it instead of acting out.
Lucy sipped the bitter coffee. I dont know if we can go back to how things were. Trust isnt easy to rebuild.
Ill wait as long as it takes, Sarah said. Maybe we start as acquaintances, not best mates, and see where it goes.
They talked about the weather, work, the news light, easy conversation. Perhaps, with time, things could settle.
When Lucy got home, Arthur greeted her with a bunch of flowers.
For what? she asked, surprised.
Just because Im proud of you for facing Sarah. And because I love you.
Im not sure well ever be friends again, but Im trying.
Trying is what counts. Fifteen years is a lot.
The next day Margaret suggested a tea at the same café where Lucy had met Sarah. She arrived in a smart coat, hair neatly done.
You look lovely, she said.
Thank you, Lucy replied.
They ordered tea and scones. After a pause, Margaret spoke.
Lucy, I want a fresh start. I realise Ive been overbearing, trying to hold onto my son after my husband died. I was scared of losing him.
Lucy felt a sting of tears. I should have spoken to you directly instead of venting to Sarah. Im sorry.
I forgive you, Margaret said, her voice softening. And I hope you can forgive me too.
Lucy nodded. Ill try to be more open with you, and Id like you to respect our space.
Deal, Margaret agreed.
They chatted about summer plans and the renovation Margaret was starting in the flat. It felt ordinary, human.
That night Lucy was on the balcony with a glass of wine. Arthur joined her, slipped his arm around her shoulders.
Whatre you thinking about? he asked.
Lifes odd, isnt it? Things fall apart so we can rebuild stronger.
About Sarah and mum?
Yeah, about us too.
He kissed the top of her head. I love you.
I love you too.
They watched the sunset, knowing that somewhere else Sarah was looking out her window, thinking about friendship, and Margaret was sorting through old photos, remembering a younger Arthur. All these lives tangled together, each with their own hurts, fears, hopes.
And life kept moving forward.
