You simply cant get through to him.
I wont do it! And dont order me around! Youre nothing to me!
Edward slammed the plate into the sink so hard that water splashed across the worktop. Sarah froze for a split second. The fifteen-year-old glared at her as though shed personally ruined his life.
I only asked for a bit of help with the washing up, Sarah did her best to keep an even tone. Its a perfectly reasonable request.
My mum never made me do dishes! Im not some girl! And who even are you to be bossing me about?
He spun on his heel and marched out. Moments later, music thundered out of his bedroom.
Sarah leaned against the fridge, eyes shut.
A year ago, it had all seemed so different
Tom came into her world by chance. He was an engineer in the department next to hers at a major construction firm, and their paths would often cross at meetings. First coffee together at lunchtime, then dinners after work, and endless phone calls deep into the night.
I have a son, Tom had confessed on their third date, fidgeting with a napkin. Edwards fifteen. I split up with his mum two years ago, and hes well, he finds it tough.
I understand, Sarah rested her hand on his. Its always hard for children after a divorce. Thats normal.
Are you certain youre ready for both of us?
In that moment, she truly believed she was ready. She was thirty-two, divorced without children, and longing for a real family. Tom seemed like the kind of man she could build something solid with.
Six months later he proposed all nerves and awkwardness, slipping the ring inside a box of her favourite lemon tarts. Sarah burst out laughing and said yes in a heartbeat.
It was a small wedding: just family, a couple of close friends, a modest restaurant. Edward spent the entire evening glued to his phone, not glancing up at the newlyweds even once.
Hell get used to things, Tom whispered when he saw Sarahs worried look. Just give him some time.
Sarah moved into Toms spacious flat the day after the wedding. It was a lovely place bright, a big kitchen, and a balcony overlooking the courtyard. But right from the start, Sarah felt like a guest in someone elses home.
Edward looked at her as though she were part of the furniture through her, never at her. Whenever she entered the room, he would punctuate her arrival by jamming in his earphones. If she ever asked him anything, hed grunt a single-syllable reply, eyes drifting away.
The first two weeks, Sarah chalked it up to adjustment. Its difficult for a boy to accept his fathers new wife. She thought things would settle down.
They didnt.
Edward, please dont eat in your room. Youll attract mice.
Dad always let me.
Edward, have you done your homework?
None of your business.
Edward, tidy up after yourself, will you?
Clean it up yourself. What else have you got to do?
Sarah tried to talk to Tom. She chose her words carefully, desperate not to sound like a wicked stepmother.
I think we should agree on some ground rules, she ventured one evening, after Edward had sloped off to his room. No eating in bedrooms, clean up after yourself, homework done by a reasonable time
Sarah, hes been through enough. Tom rubbed his eyes. The divorce, a new person moving in Lets cut him some slack?
Im not giving him a hard time. I just want some order in the house.
Hes still a child.
Hes fifteen, Tom. Old enough to wash his own mug.
But Tom simply sighed and turned on the television, signalling the conversation was over.
Things grew worse by the day. When Sarah asked Edward to take out the bins, he looked at her with undisguised disdain.
Youre not my mum. Youll never be my mum. Dont boss me around.
Im not giving you orders. Im asking for help in the home we all live in.
This isnt your home. Its my dads place. And mine.
Sarah tried again with her husband. He would nod, promise to speak to Edward, but nothing changed or maybe the conversations never even happened. Sarah couldnt tell.
Edward started coming home after midnight, no texts or calls. Each night, she lay awake, listening for every sound in the stairwell. Tom, meanwhile, snored beside her, utterly unbothered.
At least ask him to let us know where he is and when hell be back, Sarah urged in the morning. Anything could happen.
Hes old enough, Sarah. You cant control teenagers.
Hes fifteen!
I used to stay out late at his age.
But can you at least talk to him? Explain that we worry?
Tom just shrugged and left for work.
Every attempt at setting boundaries triggered a row. Edward would shout, slam doors, accuse Sarah of breaking up their family. Each time, Tom took his sons side.
Hes struggling after the divorce, Tom insisted, like a broken record. You have to understand.
And its easy for me?! Sarah snapped. I live in a house where Im openly despised, and my own husband just pretends nothings wrong.
Youre overreacting.
Overreacting? Your son called me nothing and told me I have no right to tell him what to do. Word for word.
Hes a teenager. Theyre all like that.
Sarah rang her mother, who always found the right words.
Sweetheart, her mothers voice was anxious, you sound so unhappy.
Mum, I dont know what to do. Tom refuses to admit theres a problem.
Because he doesnt see one. Its all fine for him. Only you are in pain.
Her mother paused, then quietly added:
You deserve so much better, darling. Think about that.
Feeling no consequences, Edward ran riot. Music blared until three in the morning. Dirty dishes turned up on coffee tables, windowsills, even in the bathroom. Socks littered the hallway; textbooks piled up on the kitchen counter.
Sarah cleaned, as she couldnt bear the mess. She cleaned and wept at the sheer helplessness of it all.
Edward eventually stopped greeting her altogether. For him, Sarah existed only when he wanted to sneer.
You just cant get through to him, Tom said one evening. Maybe youre the problem.
Me? Sarah let out a bitter laugh. Ive spent six months trying. He calls me her to your face.
Youre making a drama out of everything.
Sarahs last-ditch attempt cost her a whole day. She found a recipe online for Edwards favourite honey-glazed chicken with farmhouse potatoes and bought the best ingredients she could find, spending four hours in the kitchen.
Edward, dinners ready! she called, setting the table.
He sauntered out, eyed his plate, and screwed up his nose.
Im not eating that.
Why not?
Because you made it.
He turned and left. A minute later, the front door slammed. Edward had gone out to his mates again.
When Tom came home, he saw the untouched meal and his upset wife.
What happened?
Sarah explained. Tom sighed.
Dont take it to heart, Sarah. He doesnt mean it.
Doesnt mean it?! Sarahs patience finally snapped. He humiliates me on purpose. Every single day!
Youre far too sensitive.
A week later, Edward brought five lads home from school. The kitchen was left littered with food scraped out of her fridge.
Out now! Its nearly eleven! Sarah stormed into the living room where the group sprawled on the sofas.
Edward barely looked up. Its my house. I do what I want.
This is our home. There are rules here.
What rules? snickered one of his mates. Ed, who is she anyway?
Nobody. Ignore her.
Sarah retreated to the bedroom and called Tom. He arrived an hour later, after the boys had gone. He looked at the mess, then at his exhausted wife.
Sarah, stop making a fuss. The boys were only here for a bit.
A bit?!
Youre blowing things out of proportion. And frankly, he scowled, youre always trying to turn me against my son.
Sarah stared at her husband, hardly recognising him.
Tom, we need to have a serious talk, she said the next day. About us. About our future.
He stiffened but sat across from her.
I cant go on like this, Sarah spoke calmly now. Six months Ive put up with disrespect from Edward outright rudeness. And you you dont care at all about how I feel.
Sarah, I
Let me finish. Ive tried. Honestly tried to be part of this family. But there is no family. Theres you, your son, and me a stranger tolerated because I cook and clean.
Thats not fair.
Not fair? Whens the last time your son said a kind word to me? When did you ever take my side?
He fell silent.
I love you, he said quietly at last. But Edward is my son. Nothing is more important to me.
Not even me?
Not even us.
Sarah nodded. Inside, she felt hollow and numb.
Thank you for being honest.
Her patience finally snapped two days later. Sarah found her favourite blouse a present from her mother slashed to ribbons, lying on her pillow. She didnt doubt for a second whod done it.
Edward! she stormed to him, scraps of fabric in her hands. What is this?!
He shrugged, eyes never leaving his phone.
No idea.
Thats my blouse!
So?
Tom! Sarah called her husband. You need to come home. Now.
Tom arrived, looked at the ruined blouse, then at his son and his wife.
Ed, did you do this?
No.
See? Tom shrugged. He says he didnt.
Who then? The cat? We dont have a cat!
Maybe you maybe it was an accident.
Tom!
Sarah looked at her husband and realised there was no point talking. He would never change. Would never choose her. For Tom, there was only one person in the world his son. And she was merely a convenience.
He misses his mum, Tom muttered for the hundredth time. Try to understand.
I do, Sarah said, voice calm and cold. I understand everything.
That night, she took out her suitcase.
What are you doing? Tom froze in the doorway of the bedroom.
Packing. Im leaving.
Sarah, wait! Lets talk!
Weve been talking for half a year. Nothing ever changes. She calmly folded her clothes. I deserve happiness too, Tom.
Ill change! Ill talk to Edward!
Its too late.
She looked at her husband a handsome, mature man, whod never learnt to be a husband, only a father. And the sort who was ruining his son with blind devotion.
Ill file for divorce next week, Sarah said, zipping the suitcase.
Sarah!
Goodbye, Tom.
She walked out of the flat without looking back. In the corridor, she glimpsed Edwards face and for the first time there was something besides contempt in his eyes. Uncertainty? Fear? Sarah no longer cared.
The one-bedroom flat she rented turned out small but cosy a little place overlooking a peaceful garden square. Sarah unpacked, made a cup of tea, and sat on the windowsill. For the first time in six months, she felt calm.
The divorce went through in two months. Tom called a few times, asking for another chance. Sarah always replied kindly, but firmly: no.
She didnt break. She didnt grow bitter. She simply understood: happiness is not about endurance, or endless sacrifice. Happiness is knowing you are respected and valued. And one day, she would find it.
Just not with this man.
