Either your mother moves out or we get a divorce, I warned my wife after yet another of her antics.
How long are we waiting? Well be late! Charlotte fidgeted on the landing, glancing anxiously at her watch.
Im ready, just need to fix my tie, James called from the bedroom. Wed have left already if you hadnt changed your outfit three times.
Dont even start! Charlotte snapped, irritation thinly veiled. I want to look presentable at your office party, not like a drab mouse.
James appeared in the doorway, tugging at the knot of his tie. At fortyfive he still kept a trim silhouette, though a touch of silver had claimed his temples.
You always look brilliant, he said, softer now. Especially when youre not on the edge of a nervous breakdown.
Charlotte opened her mouth to retort, but at that moment Ethel, Charlottes mother, floated into the hallway with a mug of tea.
Where are you two all dressed up for? she inquired, eyeing them keenly.
Its Jamess office party, Mum. I mentioned it this morning, Charlotte adjusted her earrings.
Ah, right, Id forgotten, Ethel sipped her tea. Why so late? Its already nineoclock.
Hence the rush, James tried to stay calm, though his stomach was doing somersaults. Charlotte, shall we book a black cab? Or do you want me to drive?
Better a cab. Id like you to be able to relax too, Charlotte said, pulling out her phone.
Good call, Ethel chimed in. Men are always quick to have a pint, but when it comes to responsibility they disappear into the bushes.
James clenched his teeth, counting to ten. Every comment from his motherinlaw felt like an accusation, even when she talked about the weather.
Please, Mum, Charlotte whispered, casting a pleading glance at James.
Fine, Ill be quiet, Ethel retreated to the kitchen, leaving the door ajar to eavesdrop.
The cab will be here in five minutes, Charlotte announced, slipping her phone into her evening bag.
Right, James slipped on his jacket. Did you bring the keys?
Yes, Ive got everything.
Ethel resurfaced from the kitchen. When will you be back? Should I lock the door for the night?
No need, Mum. We have the keys.
What if you lose them? Or overindulge? she said, sceptical.
We wont lose them, James snapped. I know my limits.
Everyone says that, then, Ethel began, but the doorbell interrupted her. The cab pulled up and James exhaled with relief. Another evening free of motherinlaw commentary.
Dont be out too late! Ethel called after them.
In the cab Charlotte squeezed Jamess hand. Sorry about Mum. She just worries.
Of course, James replied, watching the dark street glide by. Sometimes he imagined being one of those faceless commutersfree, unobserved, not constantly judged.
Three months earlier Ethel had moved in after Charlottes father died, supposedly temporarily until she got used to life without him. That temporary solution had morphed into a permanent fixture, and their threebedroom flat felt more like a cramped cage.
The party was at a swanky restaurant in central London. Velvet drapes, live jazz, colleagues in festive dressall set the scene for a pleasant night. James gradually loosened up, chatting with coworkers and their partners. Charlotte shone in a deep navy dress, turning heads left and right.
Your wife is splendid, said Mr. Harrington, the company director, as they lingered by the bar. A true lady.
Thank you, James replied proudly, watching Charlotte banter with the directors wife. Im lucky.
How long have you two been married?
April will mark fifteen years.
Impressive, Harrington nodded. Children?
Nope, James shook his head. That didnt work out.
It was a sore spot. Theyd tried for years, endured tests and treatments, only to be told everything was finejust a matter of patience. Eventually Charlotte decided they were happy enough as a couple.
The evening ticked on. James sipped a couple of glasses of wine, no morehe always knew his limits, unlike Ethels persistent warnings. By eleven he was ready to head home.
Shall we stay a bit longer? Charlotte suggested, eager to join the dancing.
Give us half an hour, then we must be off, James agreed. Tomorrows a workday.
Charlotte smiled, pulling him onto the dance floor. To a slow tune they swirled like theyd done in their youth, James holding her close, inhaling the faint perfume she wore, thinking that perhaps life wasnt so terrible after all. A mothers meddling, after all, is a common British tale.
They trudged back around midnight. The flat lights were still on, though they hoped Ethel was already asleep.
They finally showed up, Ethels voice rang as they crossed the threshold. I was about to call the police.
Dont worry, Mum, it was just a party, Charlotte sighed.
In my day respectable people didnt come home that late, Ethel muttered, pursing her lips. And youre smelling of alcohol, James.
Ive had two glasses of wine all night, he managed to say calmly.
Everyone says that, Charlotte intervened. Lets talk tomorrow.
Of course, of course, Ethel sighed dramatically. My opinions are nobodys business.
James slipped to the bathroom, letting the hot shower wash away the days tension. Fifteen years of marriage, and hed never felt such strain. When he emerged, Charlotte was already in bed.
Ignore Mum, she whispered. Shes struggling after her husbands death.
I get that, James lay beside her. But this has been three months now. We cant even have a normal conversation without her hovering.
Give her time, Charlotte stroked his hand. Shell adjust.
James wanted to admit he feared getting used to the constant criticism, the need to account for every move, the lack of personal space. He kept quiet. Charlotte drifted to sleep, and he faced a long day ahead.
Morning began with the smell of fried fisha scent James had loathed since childhood, and Ethel seemed to love reminding him of it.
Good morning, Ethel grumbled, setting a plate of fish on the table. Breakfast is almost ready.
Thanks, but Ill have a coffee at work, James poured himself a mug, hurrying.
Always the same, Ethel sighed theatrically. My cooking never measures up to the gentlemans chef.
Its not that, he said, taking a sip. Im just in a rush.
And Miss Charlotte will eat at home, like a proper wife, Ethel remarked, placing a hefty portion of fish on Charlottes plate. Not like some people who run around like lunatics.
James finished his coffee and left the kitchen. In the hallway he found a sleepy Charlotte.
Already off? she asked.
Yes, a lot to do, he kissed her cheek. Your mum made fish again.
Oh, not again, she winced. Ill talk to her.
No need, James sighed. It wont change anything.
The workday stretched endlessly, his mind drifting back to home. At lunch Charlotte called.
Hey, hows it going? her voice sounded tense.
Fine, just working. Whats up?
Mum was sorting through your wardrobe. Said she was tidying up. I told her you dont like anyone touching your stuff and she got upset.
James, Im fed up, he snapped. Why does she think she can run the house?
She just wants to help, Charlotte defended. You know how active she is. She needs something to do.
Let her stick to her own business! James raised his voice, then realised colleagues could hear. Ill call you later.
He hung up, staring out the window. Maybe it would have been better if Ethel moved back into her own flat? She had sold hers soon after her husbands death, saying the memories were too heavy. Now there was no way back.
That evening James stayed late at the office, unwilling to return to a house full of tension. When he finally got home, Charlotte met him with a guilty look.
Did something happen? he asked, taking off his shoes.
Mum accidentally broke your model airplane, Charlotte said quietly. The one you brought back from Germany.
James froze. The rare Messerschmitt replica was his pride, painstakingly assembled over months.
Accidentally? he asked.
Yes, she was vacuuming, got the cord caught on the wardrobe, and the model fell.
Why was she vacuuming in my study? his anger rose. We agreed thats a nogo zone!
She wanted to be nice, Charlotte lowered her eyes. She knew youd be late and thought cleaning would help.
Where is she now?
Shes at the neighbours, said shed come back once youve calmed down.
James entered his study. The broken model lay on the deskwings snapped, fuselage split in two. Months of meticulous work ruined.
This is the last straw, he said softly, looking at the wreckage.
James, please, Charlotte pleaded from behind. She didnt mean it.
Its not about the plane, he turned to her. Its about your mother not respecting our space, our rules, our relationship. Shes constantly interfering.
Shes just worried about us, Charlotte defended, though her voice lacked its earlier confidence.
No, shes not worried. Shes controlling. I cant live like this any longer.
What do you mean? Charlottes eyes widened with fear.
Either your mother moves out, or we get a divorce, I said, the ultimatum hanging heavy. Im not joking. Im at my limit.
Charlotte recoiled as if struck.
You cant be serious! Kick my own mum out?
Im not saying kick her out. She can rent a flat nearby. Well help with the rent, visit often, anything. But I cant live under one roof with her forever.
What if I choose my mum? she asked quietly.
Then well have to part ways, I replied, just as quietly. Fifteen years Ive been your number one, but the last three months Ive felt like a guest in my own home.
Tears spilled from Charlotte.
Its unfair! Mum is alone, she needs support!
I need my wife, I said, moving closer. I need a home where I can unwind, not wait for another remark or intrusion.
The hallway door slammed openEthel was back. Hearing voices, she marched in.
Oh, here we are, she began, as if announcing her arrival. Probably already told Miss Charlotte all sorts of nasty things about me? By the way, that toy of yours was already gathering dust, no use at all.
Mum! Charlotte shouted. Not now, please.
When? Ethel retorted. When will your husband finally listen to the truth? He
Enough, I interrupted, surprised at my own composure. Ethel, lets sit down and talk like adults.
Ethel fell silent. We moved to the sitting room and took our places: me in an armchair, Charlotte and her mother on the sofa.
I understand your situation, I started. Losing a husband after so many years is hard. But you must understand us too. Charlotte and I have built a life together over fifteen years, and now that life is under threat.
Because of me? she huffed.
Yes, I answered plainly. Because of the constant control, the comments, the meddling. I feel like a stranger in my own house.
This is my house now as well, Ethel insisted.
Thats exactly what I wanted to discuss, I said, keeping my tone even. I think it would be better for you to live separately.
Youre throwing my daughters mother onto the street? Ethel exclaimed, waving her arms. Thats absurd!
No one is being thrown out, I replied patiently. Well help you find a nearby flat, visit, pay a bit of rent.
And if I refuse? she crossed her arms.
Then, Im afraid Charlotte and I cant continue living together, I said, looking at my wife. Ive already told her that.
Blackmail! Ethel shouted. Charlotte, youll stand for this?
Charlottes tearstreaked face lifted. I dont know what to do, Mum. I love you both. But James is rightthe last few months have been rough for everyone.
So you want me to leave? Ethel asked, hurt evident.
I want us all to be happy, Charlotte said softly. Right now, no one is.
Silence settled. Ethel stared between daughter and soninlaw, as if seeing them for the first time.
I never imagined it would be this bad, she finally admitted. I thought I was helping.
We appreciate your care, I said gently. But sometimes care can become overbearing.
Ethel lowered her head. After my husband died I was terrified of being alone, of the silence. I started inserting myself everywhere, trying to feel needed.
Charlotte hugged her. We love you, Mum. Youll always be part of our lives. But maybe James is rightmaybe it would be better if you had your own flat nearby.
Ethel stayed quiet for a long moment, then sighed. Perhaps youre right. I didnt want to admit it, but Ive been overstepping. Its hard to accept that Im no longer the centre of my little girls world.
Youll always be an important part of ours, James said. But we need to respect each others boundaries.
We talked for agesplans, futures, how to rebuild the relationship. For the first time in three months, James felt heard. He saw his motherinlaw not as an enemy, but as a lonely woman scared of being useless.
The next day Charlotte found an advertisement for a onebed flat in the neighboring block. James and she viewed it, paid the deposit, and helped Ethel move in a week later.
Are you still mad at me? Charlotte asked when they returned to their own flat after the move.
For what? James replied, surprised.
For the ultimatum. It was harsh.
Sometimes you have to be firm to protect what truly matters, he said, pulling her close. I didnt want to lose you, but I couldnt keep going like that.
You know, Charlotte mused, maybe its for the best. Mum looks almost happy now. Shes joined a seniors hobby club.
See? She needed her own life, not just looking after us.
They sat on their couch in the quiet of their flat, enjoying the peace. Charlottes phone buzzed with a message from her mothera photo of her new living room, bright with fresh flowers and framed pictures.
Looks like weve made it work, Charlotte smiled.
James nodded, feeling the tension of the past months melt away. Sometimes you have to reach the edge to find a new path, sometimes you must risk everything to keep what matters most, and even the toughest ultimatums can end happily for everyone.
