The laptop was smashed, and my mother-in-law blamed us
Daniel and Emily decided to celebrate their anniversary at a cosy café in the heart of Manchester. They returned home well past midnight.
“Finally decided to show up?” Daniel’s mother, Margaret, greeted them with crossed arms at the doorstep. “Where have you been? I’ve been stuck here looking after the grandchildren all evening!”
“Mum, what’s wrong?” Daniel frowned. “You adore Lisa’s kids.”
“Was it really so hard to watch them for one night?” Emily added, slipping off her coat.
“You two get to gallivant around while I’m run ragged here!” Margaret snapped. “And where’s their mother, might I ask?”
“She’s busy, but you—well, you’re just enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” Margaret jabbed a finger toward the kitchen. “Wash the dishes! Had your fun—now get to work!”
Daniel scowled and flipped open his laptop. His hands froze on the lid, his breath catching. What he saw turned his blood cold.
After the wedding, Daniel and Emily rented a flat. But soon they had to move in with his mother—money was tight. Emily’s parents lived in a cramped one-bed with her younger brother, leaving no room for the newlyweds. Daniel had switched jobs—lower pay now, but promises of promotions ahead.
“Em, it’s temporary,” Daniel insisted. “We’ll stay with Mum, save some cash. She’s on her own, only my sister visits, sometimes leaves the kids. We’ll manage.”
“I could pick up extra work. You could too,” Emily suggested.
“What, slog around the clock?” Daniel shot back. “I’m at the office all day, then run off somewhere else? Come home just to sleep? When do we actually *live*?”
“And living with your mother is *living*?” Emily sighed.
“Look, we’re skint! If Mum’s happy, we’ll save faster for our own place.”
Emily said nothing. The thought of living with her mother-in-law made her skin crawl. She’d only met Daniel’s nephews—his sister Lisa’s rowdy, spoiled boys—once at the wedding. They’d left no good impression. But they had no choice.
“It’s not so bad,” Margaret declared when they moved in. “Better than throwing cash at strangers for rent. We’ll split the bills three ways—you two pay two-thirds, I’ll cover mine. Same for groceries. I’ll shop and cook. You lot clean.”
“Fine, Mum,” Daniel agreed. “Alright, Em?”
“…Sure,” Emily exhaled.
At first, things went smoothly. They came home to cooked meals, breakfast ready in the mornings. Emily took on freelance work after her shifts, but weekends were ruined by the nephews’ visits. Lisa barely showed, dumping the boys from Friday to Sunday.
Cleaning was impossible with them around—they trashed the place, rifled through everything, even barged into the bedroom if Daniel and Emily slept in.
“Dan, ask your mum to take them back,” Emily pleaded. “We’re still asleep!”
“They’re just kids,” he dismissed. “My nephews—so yours too. Deal with it.”
“I was up half the night working!”
“Nobody forced you. Fine, I’m up. Meeting the lads for fishing. Be back by evening.”
“And me? Left alone again?”
“Mum’s here. Want quiet? Give them your laptop—let them play.”
“Brilliant idea! Give them *yours*,” Emily snapped.
“Mine’s got work files,” he shot back. “What’s yours got, more important?”
“I’ve got a deadline today!” she cried. “Go on, I’ll handle it.”
It happened again and again. Daniel went off with his mates—fishing, barbecues, pub crawls. Today, he’d left again.
Margaret was feeding the boys.
“Emily, sit,” she tossed out. “Not many pancakes left, but you’ll manage. Dan said the boys could play on your laptop.”
“I never agreed!” Emily glared. “I’ve got work—deadline tonight.”
“Stingy, aren’t you?” Margaret scoffed. “We’re *family*! Lisa won’t lend hers—too fancy.”
“A *week’s* work is on there!” Emily snapped. “I’m starting now.”
“Wash the dishes first,” Margaret ordered, grabbing her phone.
Emily scrubbed plates, seething that no one cleaned up after themselves—not even a mug. Margaret was already gossiping on the phone:
“—Oh, Sarah, absolutely! Meet you at the shopping centre in an hour. Who’s making noise? The grandkids. Don’t worry—*Emily* will watch them. Good practice, since she’s got none of her own.”
Emily nearly dropped a plate. Silently, she packed her laptop and left. Margaret didn’t stop her—probably planned to drop the babysitting bomb last-minute.
Emily headed to an internet café where she often worked. Settled in a corner with coffee, she buried herself in her project. Half an hour later, Daniel called:
“Em, where are you? What’s going on?”
“Working,” she said flatly. “Deadline.”
“Mum’s furious! Why’d you vanish?”
“Couldn’t work in that noise.”
“You ruined her plans with Sarah!”
“Let her invite Sarah over, then.”
“With those little terrors?”
“Then *you* watch them and let your mum go. They’ve got a mother!”
“You’re exaggerating,” Daniel grumbled.
“Am I? Your mum took us in so *generously*, and we’ve paid for it. This month, she ‘ran short’ on groceries—took an extra fifty quid from us. You notice that?”
“You’re petty!”
“And where’s *your* money going?” Emily fired back. “Not a penny for your mum—it’s all me. But you’ve always got cash for your mates! Twelve days a month, your nephews eat our food. Mum buys them sweets, ice cream—but us? Nothing. Best bits go to them. Lisa takes them home loaded with leftovers. When we rented, we spent *half* as much! Call this ‘saving’? Want this life? I’ll get paid for this project and leave. You coming—or shall we divorce?”
“Em, where *are* you?” Daniel’s voice cracked.
“Why?”
“Fishing’s off. Don’t want to go home. Let’s spend the day together.”
“I’m working.”
“I’ll sit quietly. You at our usual spot?”
“…Fine. Give me an hour. Wouldn’t have finished at home.”
Daniel arrived with flowers.
“What’s this?” Emily blinked.
“Anniversary of when we met,” he grinned. “Ordering your favourite cake and coffee.”
“Oh—forgot,” she sighed. “Let me finish and submit this.”
They wandered till late, agreeing to flat-hunt. Emily was right—Margaret had milked their cash, poisoned Daniel against her, calling her ‘tight-fisted’.
They returned late.
“*Finally*!” Margaret hissed. “Gallivanting while I suffer with these brats!”
“Mum, you *love* them,” Daniel said evenly.
“Not today!” she barked. “Jan wanted to meet at the pub, but I had to drag her *here*. She hated it! Where was *Lisa*?”
“Busy,” Daniel shrugged. “If she saw us out, she could’ve taken them.”
“Wash the *dishes*!” Margaret ordered. “Had your fun—now work!”
Emily changed, heading for the kitchen, but Daniel stopped her. He opened his laptop—and went still. The screen was cracked; files, gone.
“What the—?” he whispered, pale. “Em, I left this on the shelf!”
“I didn’t touch it,” she said. “Ask your mum.”
“Mum!” Daniel yelled. “What happened to my laptop?”
“Keep your voice down!” Margaret snapped. “Exhausted, I am!”
“Why did you *take* it? Where are my files?”
“The boys played on it,” she waved off. “Little crack—big deal. At least they were quiet.”
“They *deleted everything*!” Daniel exploded. “They’re *ten and eight*—they knew what they were doing!”
“*Borrowing*? You’re their *uncle*!”
“Enough!” he roared. “Em, we’re moving. Boot yours up—I’ll salvage what I can.”
“And who’s washing *dishes*?” Margaret demanded.
“Whoever dirtied them,” Daniel shot back. “*We* weren’t here.”
Emily, watching her husband’s rare fury, searched for flats. She’d never seen him like this. The laptop—bought with his student savings—was expensive.
“Dan, it’s alright—we’ll get another,” she soothed.
“No, I’ll fix it,” he said tightly. “Left the password on a sticky note—my fault. Never thoughtThe next morning, they packed their things in silence, leaving Margaret’s complaints unanswered as they walked out the door for good.
