Either your mother moves out, or we get a divorce, I said, the ultimatum hanging in the air like a heavy fog after her latest outburst.
How much longer can we wait? Well be late! Poppy glanced at the clock, shifting from foot to foot in the hallway, her patience wearing thin.
Im ready, just need to fix my tie, Andrew called from the bedroom. Wed have left already if you hadnt changed your outfit three times.
Dont even start! Poppys voice trembled with irritation. I want to look presentable at your office party, not like a drab mouse.
Andrew stepped into the doorway, tugging at the knot of his tie. At fortyfive, he still kept a trim silhouette, though a silver strand had begun to pepper his temples.
You always look wonderful, he said softly. Especially when youre not on edge.
Poppy opened her mouth to reply, but the kitchen door swung wide and Ethel, Poppys mother, entered, a steaming mug of tea in her hands.
Where are you two dressed to the nines? she asked, scanning them with a keen eye.
Its Andrews office party, Mum. I mentioned it this morning, Poppy corrected, adjusting her earrings.
Oh, right, Id forgotten, Ethel sipped her tea. Why so late? Its already nine oclock.
Thats why were in a rush, Andrew tried to stay calm, though his nerves were sparking. Poppy, shall we grab a taxi? Or would you prefer I drive?
A taxi, please. I want you to be able to relax too. Poppy fished her phone from her bag.
Exactly, Ethel interjected. Men always want a drink first, but when it comes to responsibility they disappear into the bushes.
Andrew clenched his jaw, counting to ten. Every remark from his motherinlaw felt like a accusation, even when she talked about the weather.
Mum, please, Poppy whispered, casting a pleading glance at her husband.
Alright, Ill be quiet, Ethel retreated to the kitchen, leaving the door ajar to listen.
The taxi will be here in five minutes, Poppy murmured, slipping her phone into her evening clutch.
Got it, Andrew took his jacket. Did you grab the keys?
Yes, I have everything.
Ethel reappeared from the kitchen.
When will you be back? Should I lock the door for the night?
No need to lock it, Mum. We have a spare set.
What if you lose them? Or have too many drinks? she eyed Andrew skeptically.
We wont lose the keys, Andrew cut in. I know my limits.
Everyone says that, then
A knock at the door interrupted the brewing argument. The taxi pulled up, and Andrew exhaled a sigh of relief. Another evening without Ethels commentary.
Dont stay out too late! Ethel called after them.
In the cab, Poppy squeezed Andrews hand. Sorry about my mother. She just worries.
Its fine, Andrew replied, staring out at the dark street, the flickering lamplights, and the hurried silhouettes of strangers. Sometimes he imagined slipping into that crowd, free from the constant feeling that each step was being judged.
Three months earlier Ethel had moved in after the death of Poppys father. Supposedly temporary, until she got used to life without him. What began as a stopgap had become a permanent arrangement, and their threebedroom flat felt more like a cramped cage to Andrew.
The office party was held at a plush restaurant in the heart of London. Velvet drapes, live jazz, colleagues in festive attireall set the scene for a pleasant night. Andrew gradually loosened up, chatting with coworkers and their partners. Poppy glowed in her deep navy dress, charming everyone around her.
You have a wonderful wife, said Victor Sinclair, the companys director, as they lingered by the bar. A true lady.
Thank you, Andrew replied proudly, watching Poppy animatedly converse with Victors wife. Im lucky.
How long have you two been married?
Fifteen years this April.
Impressive, Victor nodded. Children?
No, Andrew shook his head. We never managed.
It was a sore spot. Theyd tried for years, endured tests and treatments, only to be told everything was fine and they just needed to wait. Eventually Poppy decided they were happy enough together.
The evening wore on. Andrew sipped a glass of winejust two, he always kept his limit, despite Ethels protests. By eleven he started to think about heading home.
Shall we stay a bit longer? Poppy suggested, eyes bright as the band began to play.
Give us another half hour, then well go, Andrew agreed. Tomorrows a workday.
Poppy smiled and pulled him onto the dance floor. Under a slow melody they swirled like they did in their youth, his arms around her, the scent of her perfume drifting through the air. For a moment, the looming tension melted away.
They returned home around midnight. The flat was still lit, though they hoped Ethel was already asleep.
You finally made it, Ethels voice announced as they crossed the threshold. I was about to call the police.
Mum, its just the office party, Poppy sighed.
In my day respectable people didnt come home that late, Ethel pursed her lips. And youre still smelling of alcohol, Andrew.
Ive only had two glasses, he managed to say calmly.
Everyone says that, Ethel retorted.
Can we talk tomorrow? Poppy interjected. Were exhausted.
Of course, of course, Ethel exaggeratedly exhaled. My opinion means nothing here.
Andrew slipped into the bathroom, letting the hot water wash away the frustration that had built over fifteen years of marriage. When he emerged, Poppy was already tucked into bed.
Dont mind your mother, she whispered. Shes still grieving his loss.
I know, Andrew lay down beside her. But this has been three months of constant scrutiny. Shes always there, always commenting.
Give her time, Poppy stroked his hand. Shell adjust.
Andrew wanted to admit he was terrified of getting used to the endless nagging, of having to account for every move, of losing any personal space. He stayed silent. Poppy drifted to sleep, and a long, demanding workday awaited him.
Morning began with the smell of fried fisha scent Andrew had despised since childhood, a fact Ethel relished pointing out.
Good morning, Ethel grumbled, placing a hefty piece of fish on a plate. Breakfast is almost ready.
Thanks, but Ill eat at the office, Andrew poured himself a coffee, checking his watch. Im in a rush.
Always in a rush, Ethel sighed dramatically. My cooking isnt good enough for a senior manager, is it?
My mother will have fish at home, as a proper wife would, she added, slapping the plate down with a flourish. Unlike some, who run around like lunatics.
Andrew finished his coffee in silence and headed for the door. In the hallway he found a halfasleep Poppy.
Leaving already? she asked, surprised.
Yes, a lot to do. He kissed her cheek. Your mum made fish.
Oh dear, Poppy winced. Ill talk to her.
No need, Andrew muttered. It wont change anything.
The workday stretched on, his thoughts constantly drifting back to home. At lunch, Poppy called.
Hey, hows it going? her voice was tense.
Fine, just work. Whats up?
Mum was sorting through your wardrobe, saying she was tidying up. I told her you dont like anyone touching your things, and she got upset.
Poppy, Im tired of this, Andrew snapped. Why does she think she can run the house?
She just wants to help, Poppy defended. Shes always busy, needs something to do.
Let her mind her own business! Andrew raised his voice, then realized coworkers might hear. Ill call you later.
He stared out the window, wondering if it would have been easier if Ethel had stayed in her own flat. After her husbands death shed sold her home, saying the memories were too heavy, and now there was nowhere for her to go.
That evening Andrew stayed late at the office, avoiding the flat. When he finally arrived, Poppy greeted him with a guilty look.
Did something happen? he asked, removing his shoes.
Mum accidentally smashed your model airplane, Poppy said quietly. The one you brought back from Germany.
Andrew froze. The rare Messerschmitt hed painstakingly assembled for months lay in fragments on his desk.
Accidentally? he repeated, feeling anger rise.
Yes, she was vacuuming, hit the cupboard, and the model fell.
Why was she vacuuming in my study? Andrews voice trembled. We agreed that was offlimits!
She wanted to do a favor, Poppy whispered, eyes downcast. She knew youd be late and thought cleaning would help.
Where is she now?
At the neighbours. She said shed be back once you calmed down.
Andrew walked to his study. The broken wings and split fuselage stared back at hima monthslong labor reduced to splinters.
This is the last straw, he murmured.
Andrew, please, Poppy pleaded from behind. She didnt mean it.
Its not about the plane, he turned to her, voice firm. Its that your mother doesnt respect our space, our rules, our life together. She intervenes in everything.
She only worries about us, Poppy defended, but the certainty in her tone had faded.
No, she controls, Andrew said. I cant live like this any longer.
What do you mean? Poppys eyes widened with fear.
Either your mother moves out, or we divorce, he declared, the words echoing like a final bell. Im serious. Im at my limit.
Poppy recoiled as if struck. You cant be serious! Throw my mother out?
Im not throwing her out. She can rent a flat nearby. Well support her financially, visit, help as much as we can. But I cant live under the same roof forever.
What if I choose my mother? Poppy asked softly.
Then well have to part, Andrew replied, his voice low. Fifteen years I put you first, but the past three months Ive felt like a guest in my own home.
Tears streamed down Poppys face. Its not fair! Mums lonely, she needs support!
And I need my wife, my home, a place where I can unwind without waiting for another comment or intrusion.
The front door slammed openEthel had returned, hearing voices from the study. She strode in, eyes flashing.
Ah, here you are, she began, as if narrating a drama. Probably already said nasty things about me to Poppy, havent you? I only meant well. And that toy of yours was already gathering dust, no use for it.
Mum! Poppy shouted. Not now, please.
When? When will your husband finally listen to the truth? He
Enough, Andrew cut in, surprised at his own composure. Ethel, lets sit and talk like adults.
Ethel fell silent, taken aback. They moved to the living room, each taking a seatAndrew in an armchair, Poppy and her mother on the sofa.
I understand your situation, Andrew began. Losing a husband after so many years is hard. But you need to understand us, too. Poppy and I have built a life over fifteen years, and now its under threat.
Because of me? Ethel huffed.
Yes, Andrew answered plainly. Because of the constant control, the remarks, the interference in our lives. I feel like a stranger in my own house.
Thats my house now, too, Ethel protested.
Thats exactly what I want to discuss, Andrew said, keeping his tone steady. I think it would be better if you lived separately.
Youre kicking the wifes mother out onto the street? Ethel shouted, flinging her hands. Thats absurd!
No one is being thrown onto the street, Andrew replied patiently. Well help you find a nearby flat. Well visit, well support you financially.
And if I refuse? Ethel crossed her arms.
Then, Im afraid Poppy and I cant continue living together, Andrew said, looking at his wife. Ive already told her.
Extortionist! Ethel shrieked. Poppy, youll stand for this?
Poppy, tears still glistening, whispered, I dont know what to do, Mum. I love you both. But Andrews rightthese months have been hard for everyone.
So you want me to leave? Ethels voice trembled with hurt.
I want us all to be happy, Poppy said quietly. Right now, no one is happyno you, no Andrew, no me.
Silence settled, heavy as fog. Ethel looked between daughter and soninlaw, as if seeing them for the first time.
I never thought it would get this bad, she finally admitted. I thought I was helping.
We appreciate your care, Andrew said gently. But sometimes care can become overbearing.
Ethel lowered her head. After your father died, I was terrified of being alone, of the silence. I plunged into everything, trying to feel needed.
Poppy embraced her mother. We love you, Mum. Youll always be part of our lives. But maybe Andrew is right. Maybe it would be better if you lived nearby, but separately?
Ethel stayed quiet for a long moment, then sighed. Perhaps youre right. I didnt want to admit it, but Ive taken too much liberty. Its hard to accept that Im no longer the centre of my daughters world.
Youll always be an important part of ours, Andrew said. But we must respect each others boundaries.
They talked long into the nightabout plans, about the future, about how to rebuild a relationship on healthier terms. For the first time in three months, Andrew felt truly heard. He began to see his motherinlaw not as an enemy, but as a lonely woman frightened of becoming unnecessary.
The next day Poppy found an ad for a onebedroom flat in the neighbouring block. They paid the deposit, helped Ethel move a week later.
Are you mad at me? Poppy asked, once they were back in their own flat after the move.
For what? Andrew replied, surprised.
For the ultimatum. It was harsh.
Sometimes harshness is needed to protect what truly matters, he said, pulling her into an embrace. I didnt want to lose you, but I couldnt keep going like this.
You know, Poppy mused, it might be for the best. Mum sounds almost happy now. She told me shes joined a senior citizens club.
See? She needed her own life, not just to look after us.
They sat together on the couch in the quiet of their flat, savoring the peace. Poppys phone buzzeda message from her mother, a photo of her new living room, flowers and framed pictures everywhere.
It looks like it worked out, Poppy smiled.
Andrew nodded, feeling the tension of the past months melt away. Sometimes you have to reach the edge of a dream to find a new path. Sometimes a bold ultimatum can, surprisingly, lead everyone to a brighter ending.
