You’re just convenient. Until they need you—you’re forgotten.
Nigel drove to his mother-in-law’s to fetch his wife after yet another “little disagreement.” He parked by the old block of flats, straightened his collar, and walked toward the entrance. Just as he reached the door, movement in a first-floor window caught his eye. His stomach lurched.
—Mum? What are you doing here?— he asked, recognizing his mother’s face.
—Quiet,— whispered Margaret Whitmore,— come here.
—What’s going on?— Nigel frowned.
—Just listen,— she motioned toward the slightly open window.
From inside his mother-in-law’s flat, loud, unguarded voices drifted out. It was his wife, Eleanor, and her mum.
—Mum, you should’ve seen their faces. Especially her—all weepy-eyed. *”It’s my fault, I didn’t protect my grandchild!”*— Eleanor let out a sharp laugh.— Went just as planned. And my Nigel? Bless him—runs to the rescue like a loyal pup. Even rushed me to hospital. Knew if I didn’t trap him with this *”pregnancy”*, he’d never propose.
—Ellie… that’s rotten,— her mother said weakly.
—Mum, you don’t get it. The flat’s what matters—three bedrooms, city centre. Told him we *have* to move in together since the baby’s coming. Then we can *shift* his parents out. Nigel? He’ll swallow anything. Not the type to slam doors. Just needs a gentle nudge… in *my* direction.
Nigel stood frozen, as if his heart had been carved out. Every word struck him mute. His mother tightened her grip on his arm.
—Did you hear?— she whispered.
He nodded, his face paper-white.
—Let’s go.
They entered the flat. Nigel jabbed the doorbell. Eleanor answered, still glowing—still drunk on her own words.
—Darling! You’re early!— she beamed, smile stiff.
—Save the speeches. I’ll bring your things myself,— he said calmly.— And I’m filing for divorce tomorrow.
—What? Are you mad? Why?
—Because I heard everything. The *pregnancy*. The flat. What a *convenient* fool I am. Thanks for showing your true colours so quickly.
Eleanor’s mouth opened, but no sound came.
Margaret only glanced at her ex-daughter-in-law:
—I blamed myself, you know. Thought I’d driven you away. Turns out a mother’s heart knows. Just didn’t want to see it.
They left. Nigel didn’t look back. His chest felt lighter—like he’d shrugged off a crushing weight. He walked silently, his mother beside him, her hand squeezing his. For once, she said nothing. No words were needed.
