Mum, you dont get it! Theres nothing left between them; she got pregnant on purpose just to keep him under her thumb, Blythe cries, her voice shaking with outrage. She wont let him go!
Mary rolls her eyes and sighs. Her daughter seems like a good one: pretty, smart, with a university degree. Yet shes blind, unable to see the obvious.
Blythe, are you even hearing yourself? How can you get pregnant on purpose with a man youre done with? Was he unconscious? Either theres a miraclelike immaculate conception, or someones pulling your leg. Which sounds more likely?
Blythe snorts, as if her mother is spouting nonsense.
Oh, Mum, maybe she just gave him a drink. Or maybe shes having an affair on the side. What tricks do we girls have up our sleeves?
Mary raises an eyebrow, blinking slowly. Tricks You cant fool nature. Explaining that to her would be a stretch.
Blythe, love, open your eyes. They dont split up because hes a noblehearted father. They dont split up because he ever intended to. Hes happy as he is.
Thats not true! Blythe snaps. You dont understand! I know him better. Hes a good man, just circumstances
Marys patience finally snaps. Blythe defends Alex, but hes simply using her. Mary has seen this before, always holding back, but today her limit is reached. Three years of lies, two families, endless hurt and tears from her daughter the cup overflows.
You know what, Mary cuts in. Ive had enough. Im tired of watching you waste your life on that scoundrel. Ill track down your scheming Anna and write to her, tell her that, by his version, she and her husband are on the brink of divorce. Lets see what she says. I bet she doesnt even know her husband is almost free!
Mum! Blythe jumps up. Dont! This is between us! Ill never forgive you for this!
That sobers Mary a little. No, she cant be that cruel; shed risk losing her daughter altogether. She needs another approach.
Then investigate yourself, Mary suggests. If he loves his children so much and is such an honest man, tell him youre pregnant with his child. See how this knight in shining armor reacts.
Blythe freezes, then grimaces with disgust.
Ew! Manipulating like that is low!
Its low to feed a girl fairy tales and waste her best years while you enjoy the perks. This is a test of character.
Blythe frowns, grabs her bag, fingers trembling.
Im done talking about this. I told you everything, I wanted support, and you If you try to contact his wife, I Ill never speak to you again.
Mary is left alone in the kitchen, breathing out. Her daughter wanted support what kind? Should she have patted her head and whispered that everythings fine? Maybe at the start, but not now.
Three years ago they lived together, even though Blythe already owned a flat. They thought it would be easier that way. Blythe rented out her place, and Mary simply liked having her daughter around.
Then Blythe starts to change. She smiles for no reason, swaps her wardrobe, spends hours primping in front of the mirror before outings. Mary asks nothing, just quietly enjoys what she thinks is Blythes budding personal life.
Mum, I think Ill move back into my own flat, Blythe announces one day. I have a boyfriend.
But as New Years approaches, all Marys builtup fantasies crumble.
Blythe, could you introduce us? It seems serious. Maybe you could all spend New Years Eve at my place? We could celebrate together, Mary proposes.
At first Blythe resists, wanting a quiet, private night. Then she says Alex has no set work schedule and might be on shift the night of 31 December.
Blythe, stop dodging. I see the look in your eyes. You just dont want me to meet him? Mary asks straight.
He cant. Hes married, Blythe replies, watching Marys eyebrows lift, then hurriedly adds, But his marriage is just a façade. They have only the kids together. He stays with his wife for the children, and thats why hell be at the family gathering on New Years.
Mary feels a chill inside and has to sit down to keep from falling. Despite the whirlpool of emotions, she tries to stay composed.
Blythe why a married man? Mary asks.
He promised to divorce. Not now, just later. Time isnt right. Blythe says.
When? A promise isnt a wedding, Blythe Mary presses.
His mum just had a stroke, he cant upset her. Once she recovers a bit, hell sort the divorce. Blythe explains.
Mary offers arguments, reallife examples, but Blythe is already living in a reality built from Alexs words.
Alexs mother isnt the end of the story. Alex always finds a fresh excuse: his daughters depression, his wifes job loss Each time Marys heart aches hearing another flimsy alibi.
It becomes clear Blythe suffers, perhaps even halfaware of whats happening, but refuses to admit it to herself.
She first shows up at Marys house in tears after International Womens Day.
It turns out Alex asked her to make a handmade soap set for his children. Blythe, who dabbles in soapmaking as a side hustle, sees nothing suspicious. Yet when Alexs wife later posts pictures of the soap set, a bouquet, and other gifts from her husband
I poured my heart into it, wanted his kids to love it, and he treats me like this, Blythe sobs. I cant keep this up; Ill send him away tomorrow
The next day her tone softens.
Mum she says apologetically. He couldnt have given the soap just to the kids. Everyone will use it.
These cycles repeat. Alex goes away on a holiday with his wife, gifts her a New Years ring, while Blythe receives only a lamp. Each night Blythe weeps on Marys shoulder, and each morning she finds a new justification.
The latest incident is Alexs wifes pregnancy. Blythe stubbornly believes her boyfriend has nothing to do with it; its all Annas fault.
Mary feels the sting of watching her daughter give away her best years youth, faith, love to fuel anothers family fire. Sometimes she wonders whether to write to Anna. Yet she cant act so cruelly toward her child. All she can do is wait, hoping time will set things right.
A month after the argument drags on, feeling endless. Every day begins and ends with anxious waiting. Mary checks her phone ten times an hour, hoping for a missed call or a message. The phone stays silent.
One night, exhausted from sleeplessness, Mary finally slips into a troubled sleep. Her phone rings. Blythes name flashes. Marys heart jumps to her throat.
Mum Blythe hiccups before Mary can speak.
Darling! Whats happened? Where are you? Mary asks, scrambling for a coat.
What follows is a breathless stream of consciousness. Mary realizes Blythe finally took her advice, decided to test Alex, hoping to prove hes their future. She wants him to be her rock, to start a family, but she needs a little push.
When she tells Alex about the pregnancy, his reaction isnt what Blythe expected.
Blythe, youre clever, but this is terrible timing. Ive got work problems and other stuff, he says. Ill sort this quietly, I can put money on the table if you need.
But its our child What about Anna? Blythe pleads.
Dont overthink it. Im busy, I have to run. Think about it later.
From that moment Alex stops answering.
Blythe descends into hell. She texts and calls hourly. He reads them but never replies.
A week later she spots a photo on a mutual friends feed: a café, a big group, Alex hugging an unfamiliar woman not his wife. Timestamp: the night before.
Her world collapses. She tries to reach Alex through that friend, but
He asked me to tell you he doesnt want to fund another mouth. He already supports two, and a third is on the way. Hes fed up with the drama, the friend relays. He said you should sort it out yourselves.
Alex never says directly that its over, that he has another partner (actually two), or that he never intended to marry Blythe. Yet the message is crystal clear. The pink castle of promises, tender words, and future plans shatters in seconds. Alex is no longer a knight; hes a scoundrel happy to keep a young, lovesick girl around while no sacrifices are required from him.
Mary darts for a cab. She spends the whole night with Blythe, then brings her home. She doesnt blame her, doesnt force her to admit rightness. She simply stays.
The first weeks see Blythe as a pale shadow of herself. She eats little, avoids TV, stops making soap. She goes to work on autopilot but no longer defends Alex.
Mary digs out the holiday savings she set aside for herself and hands Blythe an envelope.
Here, she says, passing the envelope. Its yours. Take it, get away. Go to the coast, watch the waves, eat fruit. It isnt much, but itll get you to Brighton.
Blythe hesitates, then agrees.
Ten days later she returns, sunkissed, a little thinner, but the sorrow in her eyes has faded.
Mum, by the sea Ive turned everything over in my head, Blythe admits softly, eyes down. All his words, his actions I realise how foolish I was. Forgive me for everything for shouting, for not listening.
Mary cant stop smiling. She isnt gloating, just relieved by her daughters insight.
Darling, dont give up. There are plenty of good people out there
Plenty, but not now. Ive decided to start by loving myself.
Mary nods, embraces Blythe. She feels relief that her girl has stepped off the cliff shed been perched on for three long years. Reality beats selfdeception. Blythe is saved, remembering the bitter taste of truth so she never again trades her life for cheap promises and other peoples fantasies.
