Take off your wedding ring, I need it for my daughter, my motherinlaw snapped at dinner.
We cant keep putting this off, Emma! Either you see a doctor or Ill book an appointment for you myself, Ian drummed his fingers on the table, his irritation barely hidden.
Dont start again, Emma ran a tired hand through her hair. Its only been three months. The doctor said we should wait six before getting worried.
Three months? Ian scoffed. Weve been married two years. Two! And still nothing. My mum asks every day when shell be getting grandkids.
Emma turned away, pretended to look for something in the cupboard. Talk about kids always ended in a fight. She wanted a baby too, but nothing was happening yet, and the constant pressure from his mum only made it worse.
Speaking of your mum, she changed the subject. Dont forget theyre coming over for dinner tomorrow. We need groceries.
Already bought them, Ian muttered, cooling down. Mum wanted roast duck with apples, like at Christmas. She says Dad misses your cooking.
Emma managed a weak smile. At least Ian appreciated her kitchen skills, unlike his mum who could find fault in everything Emma did.
Is Lucy coming too? Emma asked, meaning Ians younger sister.
Of course. And she wont be alone, Ian brightened. Mum says shes got a boyfriend now. A serious one, a doctor.
Emma felt a pang of envy. Lucy was only twentytwo and already on her third serious relationship this year. Their mother kept comparing her to Lucy beautiful, smart, careerdriven while Emma, at thirty, still had no children and no big promotions.
Ian slipped his arm around Emma from behind. Im sorry, love. I didnt mean to pressure you. Im just worried.
I know, she rested her hand on his. Itll be fine. Ill make your favourite duck tomorrow and everyone will be happy.
He kissed her cheek and drifted to the living room to watch the football, while Emma stayed in the kitchen, mentally ticking off everything she needed to do for tomorrow: wash the china, iron the tablecloth, polish the silver Mum would spot any slipup. And she still had to pick an outfit something elegant but not overthetop. No matter how hard Emma tried, Margaret always found something to nitpick.
The next morning Emma woke earlier than usual. Ian was still asleep, so she slipped out of bed quietly so as not to wake him. A long day lay ahead.
By three oclock the flat sparkled. The duck was roasting, filling the house with a mouthwatering scent, and the table was set as if they were expecting important guests, not just family. Emma inspected herself in the mirror: a navy dress with a standcollar made her look slimmer, light makeup freshened her face. On her finger glinted a simple platinum band with a tiny diamond a wedding gift from her parents.
You look gorgeous, Ian said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. As always.
Thanks, she replied, trying to calm her nerves. Every meeting with Margaret felt like a test. I hope your mum likes the dinner.
Shell love it, he winked. Who could resist your duck?
The doorbell rang at five sharp. Margaret was never late.
My dears! she shouted as she stepped in, planting a kiss on Ians cheek. Emma got a perfunctory handshake. Ive missed you!
Behind her came Robert, Ians father a tall, silverhaired gentleman with a kindly smile. He hugged Emma and whispered:
It smells amazing, love. Im drooling.
Emma smiled gratefully at her fatherinlaw; they always got along.
Wheres Lucy? Ian asked, helping his parents with their coats.
Shell be here a bit later, Margaret replied, eyeing the hallway. With Andrew. Theyre stuck at the clinic.
Andrew? Emma asked.
Her fiancé, Margaret announced proudly. Hes a neurosurgeon. Very promising!
Fiancé? Ian looked surprised. Mum, you never said they were that serious
Not officially, Margaret brushed it off. But its only a matter of time. Hes hinted he wants to propose.
Emma caught a glimpse of Robert rolling his eyes, as if he knew his wife was stretching the truth.
Come on into the sitting room, Emma said. Ill set the table. Ian, could you give me a hand?
In the kitchen she exhaled and started plating the starters while Ian uncorked the wine.
Dont mind your mum, he said. She always blows things out of proportion, especially about Lucy.
I know, Emma forced a smile. All good. Just help with the salads.
Half an hour later Lucy arrived a striking blonde with a fashionable bob and flawless manicure followed by a tall darkhaired man in a crisp suit.
Hey everyone! Lucy chirped, hugging her brother. Meet Andrew. Andrew, this is my brother Ian, his wife Emma, and you already know the parents.
Pleasure, Andrew shook Ians hand and nodded at Emma. Thanks for having us.
Its a family tradition, Emma said. Monthly dinner.
Lovely tradition, Andrew replied. Family is what matters most.
Margaret beamed at Lucy and her beau:
See, Ian, even my younger daughter has found a worthy match. Andrew runs the neurosurgery department, by the way.
Mum, were just dating, Lucy rolled her eyes. Dont make a fuss.
No fuss at all, Margaret said, patting Lucys hand. I can see the chemistry. Meanwhile, you two have been married two years with no nest, no kids
Ian interjected, Weve talked about it.
Margaret feigned innocence, Im just stating the facts.
The conversation drifted to news, politics, family updates. The duck with apples was a hit; even Margaret praised it. Emma relaxed a little, hoping the evening would stay smooth. But it didnt.
When dessert homemade tiramisu was about to be served, Lucy suddenly clutched her finger.
Whats wrong? Andrew asked.
My ring is cutting me, she complained, pulling off a thin gold band with a tiny stone. It must be swollen from the heat.
Margaret picked up the ring, examined it, and declared, Thats cheap jewellery! Lucy, you deserve something better.
Mum, it was a gift, Lucy tried to take it back.
From whom? Margaret pressed.
From a colleague, Lucy answered reluctantly. For my birthday.
From Kyle? Margaret narrowed her eyes. I thought youd stopped seeing that scoundrel.
Mum! Lucy snapped. Hes a good friend, not a scoundrel.
Margaret huffed and turned to Andrew, Dont worry, Andrew. Lucys had a bad fling, but shes realised he isnt right for her.
Andrew looked uncomfortable, clearly unaware of the good friend story. Margaret saw this and seized the moment.
See, Emma does the right thing by not wearing cheap trinkets, she said, pointing at Emmas hand. A married woman should have a proper ring.
Emma instinctively crossed her left hand over her right, as if protecting the band. She didnt like where Margarets comments were heading.
Ian chose that one, didnt he? Margaret continued nostalgically. I remember him showing us the catalogue
Actually, its a gift from my parents, Emma corrected softly. A family heirloom.
A tense silence fell. Margarets lips tightened.
Really? she finally said. I thought Ian bought it.
Emmas right, Mum, Ian chimed in. Its from her parents. They really wanted her to wear it.
How sweet of them, Margaret sighed, still not entirely pleased. In our family we have traditions too. I, for instance, wore my motherinlaws ring and hoped to pass it on to my daughterinlaw one day.
First time I hear that, Robert muttered, but his wife ignored him.
Lucy could use a nice ring right now, Margaret went on, glancing between her daughter and Emma. Especially with such a serious boyfriend.
Emma froze, understanding Margarets agenda. It was too much.
You want me to give my wedding ring to Lucy? she asked bluntly.
Why not hand it over now? Margaret feigned offense. Just a temporary loan. She might be engaged soon and needs to look presentable. Youre married; you dont have to wear an expensive piece every day.
The room grew heavy with awkwardness. Emma looked at Ian, expecting him to defend her, but he sat with a distant stare, unwilling to challenge his mother.
Mum, stop, Lucy finally spoke. I dont want anyones ring.
Not anyones, my familys, Margaret snapped. Take off your wedding ring, my daughter needs it more. Look at her fiancé! Hes a proper man, unlike the cheap guy youre with.
Everyone turned red Emma from anger, Lucy from embarrassment, Andrew from discomfort. Only Margaret remained composed, as if she hadnt crossed any line.
Emma stood slowly.
Sorry, I need to check the dessert, she said, voice trembling, and slipped into the kitchen.
She leaned against the fridge, trying to steady her shaking hands. Six years with Ian had taught her to expect Margarets outbursts, but tonight had broken every record. Demanding a family heirloom for a sister who might never even marry? It was beyond the pale.
The kitchen door opened and Ians father entered.
Im sorry, Emma, he said quietly. Margarets always a bit eccentric, especially when Lucys involved.
Thats not eccentric, Robert, Emma shook her head. Its disrespectful to me, my parents, and our marriage.
I know, he said helplessly, hands raised. Ill talk to her. Dont take it to heart, alright?
Emma gave a weak nod, though she knew no conversation would change Margaret. She pulled the tiramisu from the fridge and began plating it.
Ian walked in then.
How are you, love? he asked without looking at her.
How do you think? she replied softly. Your mum just demanded I hand over my wedding ring to your sister, and you said nothing.
I get it, he ran a hand through his hair. You know how she is. Its easier to let it slide.
Let it slide? Emma stared at him, incredulous. This isnt a passing comment. Its a direct demand for something I cherish. And youre just pretending nothing happened?
No, of course not, he moved closer, trying to hug her, but she stepped back. I just dont want a fight. Lets finish the evening and Ill have a serious talk with her later.
Like the last time? The time before? Emma sneered. You always promise to talk, and nothing changes.
Emma
You know what? she placed the dessert trays on a trolley. Take the dessert yourself. I think Ill lie down. My heads hurting.
She left the kitchen, trying to keep her posture straight. Walking through the living room she nodded to the guests:
Sorry, Im not feeling well. Ian will bring the dessert. Enjoy.
She shut the bedroom door firmly.
An hour later the guests were saying their goodbyes, the atmosphere tense. When the door finally clicked shut, silence settled over the flat.
Ian knocked softly on the bedroom door.
Emma, can I come in?
She didnt answer, so he peeked inside. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window.
Are they gone? she asked without turning.
Yeah, Ian sat down beside her. Lucy apologised for her mum, and Andrew did too. They were both mortified.
And you? Emma turned to him. Were you mortified?
Of course, he lowered his head. I should have stopped her. Said something.
You didnt, she said flatly. Like always.
I didnt know what to do, he admitted. You know how she is. If you argue, it only gets worse.
Worse? Emma laughed dryly. How could it get any worse? Your mother publicly humiliated me, demanded a family heirloom, and you stayed silent. As usual.
She stood and walked to the window.
Ive been thinking all night, she said, looking at the city lights. Whats next? If we have a baby, will your mum decide how to raise it? Will you keep quiet?
Emma, dont dramatise, Ian said, coming up behind her. She just loves Lucy a bit too much, wants the best for her.
At our expense? Emma snapped. Thats not love, Ian. Thats selfishness. And you enable it by staying quiet.
They stood facetoface, and Emma finally saw that Ian wasnt going to change. Hed always find excuses for his mother, always avoid conflict, always put her comfort above hers.
Im tired, Ian, she whispered. Ive spent six years trying to fit into your family, and your mother will never let me in. Never.
What are you saying? fear flickered in his eyes.
She looked at her wedding band. The tiny diamond caught a streetlamps glow and glittered like a tear.
I think we need to think seriously about our future together, or not.
Ian went pale.
Emma, you cant
I dont know, she admitted honestly. I just know today I realised youll never stand up to your mother. I cant live like that.
She slipped the ring off and placed it on the nightstand.
Im going to my parents for a few days. I need to sort my head.
Please, Emma, Ian grabbed her hand. Lets talk. I promise Ill change, Ill talk to my mum, Ill explain
Youve promised that a hundred times, Emma said sadly. Nothing changed. Nothing will.
She gently freed her hand and started gathering her things. Ian stood by the window, unsure what to say, watching her leave. Deep down he knew she was right. His mother had crossed every line, and hed let her.
When Emma shut the door behind her, Ian sank onto the edge of the bed. The wedding band lay on the nightstand, a silent reminder of vows he couldnt keep. He picked it up, holding it tight, wondering if he could still fix things, if he could finally learn to say no even to his own mother.
