Sophia snatched the wedding ring.
«Sophia Margaret, you have no right to speak to us like that!» Hannah shot up from her seat, cheeks burning with indignation. «Thomas and I are adultswe decide how we live our lives!»
«Adults?» The elderly woman curled her lip in disdain. «More like children playing house! You rent a flat, dont even own a car, and your salaries wouldnt cover a cup of tea. And you talk of having a baby?»
Thomas sat with his head bowed, as if hoping to vanish from the crossfire between his wife and mother. What had begun as a civil family dinner had once again become a battlefield.
«Mum, we were just sharing our plans,» he finally interjected. «Were not asking for money or help.»
«As if you could!» Sophia threw her hands up. «Barely making ends meet, yet you want a child? Wholl feed it? Clothe it? Pay for its upbringing?»
Hannah felt a lump rise in her throat. Three years of marriage, and every visit to her mother-in-law was an ordeal. Every decision dissected, every step condemned. But today, Sophia had outdone herself.
«Well manage,» Hannah said softly, fighting the tremor in her voice. «Were not the first or last to raise a child in a rented flat.»
«Oh, of course you will!» Sophias tone turned venomous. «Especially since youve always got your favourite solutionselling something valuable. Why not your parents house? Sitting empty, isnt it?»
The blow struck deep. Hannahs parents had died in a car crash three years ago, leaving her a modest two-bedroom house in the suburbsthe last thread tying her to them. She refused to sell it, no matter how tight things got.
«Mum!» Thomas stood abruptly. «Thats too far.»
«Too far?» Sophia raised her brows innocently. «Im just saying your Hannahs no stranger to parting with heirlooms. Or have you forgotten how she sold her grandmothers gold earrings to fund your honeymoon? Such extravagance!»
Hannah bit her lip. Yes, shed sold themher choice, her sacrifice. But that week by the sea, just the two of them, had been worth every penny.
«I think well go,» Hannah said, rising to gather her things. «Thank you for dinner, Sophia Margaret.»
«Running off already?» Sophia sighed. «But I made treacle puddingThomass favourite.»
«Another time,» Hannah said firmly, fighting the sting of tears.
In the hallway, as Thomas helped her into her coat, Sophia called out suddenly, «Hannah, let me see your wedding ring. Its been a while.»
Hannah frowned but extended her hand, the slim gold band glinting on her finger.
«No, take it off,» Sophia insisted. «I want to check the hallmark.»
Reluctantly, Hannah slid it off and handed it over. Sophia examined it under the lightthen closed her fist around it.
«This was my mothers,» she said coldly. «A family heirloom. I gave it to Thomas for the proposal, but I see now that was a mistake.»
«What?» Hannahs stomach dropped. «Thomas, tell her»
But Thomas stood frozen, staring between them.
«Mum, give it back,» he finally choked out. «Its Hannahs now.»
«No, darling.» Sophia tucked the ring into her dressing gown pocket. «This stays with family. Ill give it to the daughter-in-law who truly belongs herenot one who only thinks of herself.»
Tears spilled down Hannahs cheeks. Three years. Three years of trying to earn this womans acceptance, enduring her barbs, her meddling. And nowthis.
«Thomas,» she whispered, voice shaking. «Say something.»
He stood pale and stricken, utterly unprepared.
«Mum, give it back,» he repeated weakly. «Thisthis isnt right.»
«Not right?» Sophia smirked. «Whats not right is a wife turning her husband against his mother. Dragging him into poverty instead of living here, where he belongs. Putting ideas of children into his head when you cant afford them!»
«Enough!» Rage surged through Hannah, sharp and clear. «Thomas, Im leaving. Now. Choosecome with me or stay.»
She wrenched the door open without looking back. Her pulse hammered in her throat. Was this the end? Would their marriage shatter against Sophias ironclad certainty?
Thomas caught her on the landing, grabbing her arm. «Hannah, wait! Lets not be hasty.»
«Hasty?» She whirled on him. «Your mother just stole my wedding ring! The symbol of our marriage! And all you could say was it isnt right?»
«I was stunned,» he raked a hand through his hair. «You know how she is. Shell calm down tomorrow.»
«Its not about the ring, Thomas.» She shook her head. «Its about her disrespectfor me, for our marriage, even for you. And you let her.»
Outside, the October drizzle clung to them as they crossed the pavement. Hannah pulled her coat tighter.
«Lets go home,» Thomas murmured, wrapping an arm around her.
Their rented flat was a thirty-minute bus ride awaya cramped one-bedroom atop a council block, overlooking the railway. Modest, worn, but theirs. A place free of judgment.
The ride passed in silence. Hannah watched raindrops race down the bus window. Her finger felt naked, weightless. She hadnt removed that ring once in three years.
At home, Thomas flicked the kettle on while Hannah sank onto the sofa, hugging her knees.
«Hannah,» he sat beside her, hesitant. «Ill fix this. Ill get the ring back tomorrow.»
«And if she refuses?»
«She wont.» His jaw set. «If she does, well buy a new one. Something better.»
«Its not about the ring,» she repeated. «Its about every visit, every dig, every time you dont defend me. This was just the final straw.»
Thomas exhaled roughly. «I know Mums… difficult. But she loves me. Wants whats best.»
«Wants control,» Hannah countered. «She cant accept youve grown up, started your own family.»
«She just worries»
«No. Worry is asking if you need help. Not criticizing every choice, not stealing wedding rings.»
The flat echoed with silence. The kettle clicked off, unnoticed.
«Ill talk to her,» Thomas said at last. «Properly this time.»
«Youve said that after every row,» Hannah sighed. «Nothing changes.»
«This time will be different.» He gripped her hands. «I promise.»
She wanted to believe him. But something had broken tonightthe last barrier shielding their fragile union.
She lay awake long after Thomas fell asleep, twisting the bare spot on her finger. The argument replayed in her mindeach cruel word, each moment Thomas couldve spoken up.
The next morning, as he left for work, she sat at the kitchen table, cradling tea.
«Ill leave early, go to Mums,» he kissed her hair. «Ill have the ring by tonight. Promise.»
She nodded, silent. Something told her it wouldnt be that simple.
The workday dragged. At the accounting firm, she misfiled invoices, drew sharp looks from colleagues noticing her bare hand.
That evening, Thomas sat at the kitchen table, hollow-eyed.
«Well?» she asked, though his face said everything.
«She wont give it back.» His voice was flat. «Says her decisions final.»
Hannah lowered herself into the chair opposite.
«And what did you say?»
«I told her it wasnt fair, that the ring was yours.» He scrubbed his face. «We argued. Badly.»
«And?»
«Nothing.» He spread his hands. «Shes immovable. Says shell only return it when shes sure our marriage is strong and» he faltered.
«And what?» Her chest tightened.
«And that you wont tear me away from my family.»
Hannah stared. Three years of tryingonly to be painted as some scheming outsider.
«Thomas,» she said quietly, «we need to talk.»
He nodded, eyes downcast.
«I cant do this anymore. That ring wasnt just metalit was respect. And your mother doesnt see me as family.»
«Shes old-fashioned,» he argued weakly. «Give her time»
«Three years wasnt enough?» Her voice cracked. «How many more must I beg for approval?»
«You shouldnt have to.» He met her gaze at last. «I love you. Thats all that matters.»
«If it were,» she said bitterly, «you wouldnt let her treat me this way. Youd protect usnot straddle the line between her and me.»
Silence thickened. Rain pattered against the window like steady, accusing fingers.
«What do you want to do?» he finally asked.
Hannah drew a breath. The answer had crystallised over hours of anguish.
«I think we need space. Time apart to decide what we really wantfrom this marriage, from life.»
«Youyou want to split up?» Fear laced his words.
«I need clarity.» Her voice steadied. «To know if we have a future, or if your mother will always stand between us.»
«She doesnt!» he burst out. «Its justa rough patch.»
«A three-year rough patch?» She shook her head. «No, Thomas. This is our life. And I wont spend it justifying my place beside you.»
She stood, pulling a small suitcase from the closet. Her hands trembled, but her resolve didnt.
«Where are you going?» He followed, panic in his eyes.
«To Emmas. Just a few days. We both need to think.»
«Hannah, please.» He caught her wrists. «Let me make this right. Ill talk to Mum again»
«Its not about talking.» She gently freed herself. «Its about choices. About whose side youre on.»
She zipped the bag shut. Tears shone in Thomass eyesthe first shed ever seen.
«Give me one chance,» he begged. «One.»
She hesitated. Was she being rash? Maybe this was the breaking point that would finally force change.
«Alright,» she relented. «One chance. But Im still going to Emmas. I need space to think.»
He nodded, swiping at his cheeks. «Ill prove our family comes first. I promise.»
At the door, she turned.
«You know what hurts most? Not the ring. Her thinking Im unworthy of your familys heirloomslike Im just some… temporary fling.»
«Youre not,» he said fiercely. «And Ill prove it. To both of you.»
She managed a faint smile before stepping out.
The rain had softened to a mist. She turned up her collar, walking toward the bus stop with odd lightness. Her finger still felt barebut now it marked not just loss, but possibility.
The bus came quickly. Hannah took a window seat, watching the city lights blur through wet glass. Reconciliation or ruinshe didnt know what awaited. But one thing was certain: no one would take what was hers againnot her dignity, not her right to love and be loved without conditions.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Thomas: *Ill fix this. Promise. Love you.*
She didnt reply. Words meant little now. Only action could mend what was broken. Shed give him this final chanceto prove their love was stronger than interference. Even interference as cruel as a stolen wedding ring.
