19October
Tonight the Clarke family gathered for what was supposed to be a pleasant dinner, but the evening quickly turned into a battlefield of expectations.
Martha, my motherinlaw, marched into the kitchen demanding, Take off your wedding ring, dearmy daughter will need it more. I tried to keep my temper in check, tapping my fingers on the table as I stared at Emily, my wife, whose face was a mask of barely concealed frustration.
Emily, we cant keep putting this off, I said, my voice tight. Either you see a doctor, or Ill book an appointment myself.
She ran a weary hand through her hair and retorted, Dont start again. Its only been three months. The doctor told us to wait six before raising any alarm.
Three months? I scoffed. Weve been married two yearstwo! And still no sign of a baby. My mother asks every day when she can expect grandchildren.
Emily turned away, pretending to look for something in the cupboard. Talk of children always ended in a row. She wanted a child as much as I did, but nothing was happening, and the constant pressure from Martha only made things worse.
Changing the subject, Emily reminded me, Dont forget the Clarkes are coming for dinner tomorrow. We need to stock up.
Ive already bought everything, I grumbled, trying to soften my tone. Martha wants duck with apples, just like at the Christmas feast. She says the old man misses your cooking.
Emily managed a faint smile. At least Martha appreciated my culinary attempts, unlike her own mother, who seemed to find fault in everything I did.
Will Liz be joining us? Emily asked, thinking of my younger sister.
Of course. And not alone, I replied, brightening a little. Martha says shes got a new boyfrienda serious fellow, a doctor.
Emilys eyes narrowed with a pinch of envy. Liz, twentytwo, already had three serious boyfriends in the past year. Martha constantly compared her to her: beautiful, brilliant, careerdriven, while I, at thirty, was still childfree and with no notable promotions.
Lena, Im sorry, I said, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. I didnt mean to pressure you. Im just worried.
I know, she whispered, covering my hand with hers. Itll be fine. Ill make your favourite duck tomorrow and everyone will be happy.
After a quick kiss on the cheek, I drifted to the living room to watch the match, leaving Emily to ruminate over the evenings todo list: wash the china, iron the tablecloth, polish the silverMartha would spot any slipup. She also had to pick an outfitelegant but not gaudybecause, no matter how hard Emily tried, Mrs. Clarke always found something to nitpick.
I woke early, slipping out of bed so as not to rouse me. The day ahead loomed long. By three oclock the flat gleamed; the duck was slowroasting, filling the house with a mouthwatering scent, and the table was set as if for dignitaries rather than family. Emily studied her reflection in the mirror: a navyblue dress with a high collar that elongated her figure, light makeup freshening her features. On her finger sparkled a modest platinum band with a tiny diamondher parents wedding gift.
You look stunning, I said, slipping my arms round her from behind.
Thanks, she replied, forcing a smile despite the flutter in her chest. Every meeting with your mother feels like a trial. I hope she likes the meal.
Dont worry, I winks. No one can say no to your duck.
The doorbell rang precisely at fiveMrs. Clarke never missed a beat.
Dearest! she exclaimed as she entered, kissing James on the cheek. Emily received only a perfunctory handshake. Ive missed you all so much!
Behind her came Robert Clarke, my father, a tall, silverhair gentleman with a kind smile. He embraced Emily and whispered, Smells amazing, love. My mouth is watering.
Emily smiled gratefully at him; we always clicked.
Wheres Liz? James asked, helping the elders settle.
Shell arrive a bit later with Arthur, Mrs. Clarke said, eyes sweeping the hallway. Theyre stuck at the clinic.
Arthur? Emily queried.
Her fiancé, Mrs. Clarke announced proudly. A neurosurgeon. Very promising!
James looked baffled. You never mentioned they were engaged
Not officially yet, she waved it off. But its only a matter of time. Hes already hinted at proposing.
I caught my fathers eye; he rolled his eyes, indicating that his wife was again turning a suggestion into fact.
Come into the lounge, love, I invited Emily. Ill help you with the salads.
In the kitchen, she exhaled, arranging canapés while I popped open a bottle of red.
Dont mind your mothers dramatics, James said. She always blows things out of proportion, especially about Liz.
I know, Emily forced a laugh. Just hand me the salad bowls.
Half an hour later Liz burst inblonde, stylish, with a crisp haircut and immaculate manicureaccompanied by a darkhaired man in a sharp suit, looks like hed step straight out of a boardroom.
Hey everyone! Liz chirped, hugging her brother. Meet Arthur. Arthur, this is my brother James, his wife Emily, and the rest of the clan.
Pleasure, Arthur said, shaking Jamess hand. Thanks for having us.
This is a lovely tradition, Emily replied, our monthly family dinner.
Indeed, Arthur nodded. Family is what matters most.
Mrs. Clarke beamed, glancing at her daughter and her new beau.
See, James? Liz may be younger, but shes already found a proper match. Arthur heads the neurosurgery department, mind you.
Liz rolled her eyes. Were just dating, Mum. No need to embarrass Arthur.
Mum, Im just trying to keep the peace, Liz whispered, though her tone was weary.
The conversation drifted to current affairs, politics, and family news. The duck with apples was a hit; even Mrs. Clarke, ever critical, praised it. Emily finally relaxed a little, hoping the night would end without further sparks.
When desserthomemade tiramisuwas about to be served, Liz suddenly clutched her finger, wincing.
Whats wrong? Arthur asked.
My ring is rubbing, she said, pulling off a thin golden band with a tiny stone. Maybe my finger swelled in the heat.
Mrs. Clarke snatched the ring, turning it over. Thats cheap jewellery! You deserve something better, Liz.
Its a birthday gift, Liz protested, trying to retrieve it.
From who? Mrs. Clarke pressed.
From a colleague, Liz replied reluctantly. Just a token.
From Kyle? Mrs. Clarke guessed, eyes narrowing. I thought you were still seeing that scoundrel.
Mother, hes a good friend, Liz snapped.
Mrs. Clarke huffed and turned to Arthur. Dont mind her, dear. Shes had a string of illadvised flings, but shell sort herself out.
Emily watched Arthurs discomfort, realizing he didnt know about this friend. Mrs. Clarke, sensing the tension, tried to smooth things over.
See, Emily does the right thing by not wearing cheap trinkets, she said, gesturing at Emilys hand. A proper wedding band is what a married woman should have.
Emily instinctively crossed her left hand over her right, shielding her finger, irritated by the mothers meddling.
James chose this ring for you, Mrs. Clarke continued nostalgically. I remember when he consulted us, showing catalogues
Its actually a gift from my parents, Emily interjected softly. A family heirloom.
A heavy silence fell. Mrs. Clarkes lips thinned.
I assumed James bought it, she finally said.
My mum bought it, James chimed in, defending his wife. They wanted me to wear it as a symbol of our union.
Mrs. Clarke seemed displeased. In my family, we pass down the motherinlaws ring. I thought Id eventually give it to Liz.
Nicholas, my father muttered, but Mrs. Clarke brushed him aside.
It would suit Liz, especially now she has a serious boyfriend, she went on, eyes flicking between his daughter and Emily.
Emilys stomach clenched. You want me to hand over my wedding ring to Liz? she asked plainly.
Just lend it for a while, Mrs. Clarke replied, feigning innocence. She might need it for an engagement soon.
The table fell into an uneasy hush. James stared at the floor, his posture slack, unwilling to confront his mother.
Enough, Mum, Liz finally said, her voice shaking. I dont want anyones ring.
Its family, Mrs. Clarke snapped. Take it off, Emily. My daughter needs it more, especially with that boyfriend of hers.
Redness washed over Emily, Liz, and even Arthur. Only Mrs. Clarke remained composed, oblivious to the line shed crossed.
I rose slowly, announcing, Excuse me, I need to check the dessert. I slipped into the kitchen, leaning against the fridge, trying to steady my trembling hands. Six years with James had taught me to brace for his mothers whims, but tonights demand felt beyond any limit.
The kitchen door opened and my father entered.
Dont mind her, love, he said quietly. She can be particular, especially when it comes to Liz.
This isnt just being particular, Nicholas, I replied, shaking my head. Its disrespectfulto me, to my parents, to our marriage.
He sighed, rubbing his temples. Ill speak to her. Dont take it to heart.
I managed a weak nod, though I knew words would change nothing. I plated the tiramisu and carried it out.
James entered the kitchen.
Lena, how are you? he asked, avoiding my eyes.
How do you think? I whispered. Your mother just demanded I give up my wedding ring for your sister, and you did nothing.
I know, he said, rubbing the back of his head. You know how she is. Its easier to let it slide.
Slide? I stared at him, disbelief in my voice. This isnt a passing comment, James. Its a direct demand to surrender something precious. And you pretend its nothing?
No, of course not, he replied, moving closer, trying to pull me into an embrace. I stepped back. I just dont want a scene. Lets finish the night and Ill have a proper talk with her later.
How many times have you promised that? I said, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. And how many times has nothing changed?
Lena
I placed the dessert trays on a tray. Carry the desserts yourself. I think Ill lie down; my head hurts.
I left the kitchen, trying to keep my posture straight, and walked past the living room, nodding to the guests.
Sorry, Im not feeling well. James will bring the dessert. Enjoy.
I shut my bedroom door behind me.
An hour later, the guests were saying their goodbyes. The atmosphere felt tense, the kind that lingers after a storm. When the last footfall faded, silence settled over the flat.
James knocked softly on my door.
Lena, may I come in?
I didnt answer, so he peeked inside. I was perched on the edge of the bed, staring out the window.
Did they leave? I asked without turning.
Yes, he said, sitting beside me. Liz apologised for her mum, and Arthur felt awful too.
And you? I asked, turning to face him. Did you feel awful?
Of course, he admitted, his head drooping. I should have stood up for you. I didnt know what to do.
Didnt you? I said, a hint of sarcasm in my tone. As usual.
I didnt know how, he confessed. You know how she is. If I argue, it only gets worse.
Worse? I laughed dryly. Your mother publicly humiliated me, demanded the family heirloom, and you stayed silent. Thats the worst.
I rose and moved to the window, the city lights flickering below.
I keep wondering what the future holds, I said, looking out. If we have a child, will your mother decide how to raise them? Will you keep quiet?
Lena, dont dramatise, James said, wrapping his arms around me from behind. She just loves Liz and wants the best for her.
At our expense? I snapped. Thats not love, James. Its selfishness, and you enable it by staying silent.
We stood there, face to face, and I finally saw that James would never truly challenge his mother. He would always find excuses, always put her comfort above my feelings.
Im tired, James, I whispered. Tired of fighting windmills. Six years Ive tried to belong to your family, but your mother will never let me in. Never.
What do you mean? he asked, fear flickering in his eyes.
I looked at my wedding ring. The tiny diamond caught the streetlamps glow, sparkling like a tear.
I think we need to think seriously about our future, I said. Whether theres any future for us together.
James paled.
Lena, you cant
I dont know, I admitted. But today I realised one thing: youll never stand up to your mother, and I cant live like that.
I slipped the ring off and placed it on the nightstand.
Im going to my parents house for a few days. I need space to think.
Lena, please, James grabbed my hand. Lets talk. I promise Ill change. Ill speak to Mum.
Youve promised that a dozen times, I said sadly. Nothing ever changes.
I gently released his hand and began packing. James sat by the window, staring at the ring that now lay on the tablea silent rebuke of his weakness, his failure to protect the thing he valued most.
He picked it up, squeezing it in his fist. Its not too late to fix things, to persuade Lena to stay, but it will require a real choicelearning to say no even to ones own mother.
Lesson learned: love is not just about patience; its also about having the courage to defend what matters most, even when the hardest battle is against family.
