Evelyn, have you lost your mind? Your temperatures 104 degrees!
Sophie clutched Evelyns shoulders, trying to pull her back onto the couch. Evelyn stubbornly tugged at her coat, her hands trembling so badly the sleeves slipped off.
Leave me alone, Sophie! I have to get to work, my report is burning up!
What report? You can barely stand! Call your boss, say youre ill!
No way! Ive already taken two sick days this month. They’ll sack me!
Sophie snatched the coat from Evelyn and threw it onto the armchair.
Sit down right now! Ill call a doctor!
Evelyn collapsed onto the sofa, completely drained. Her head spun, vision blurred. She was an accountant at a tiny London firm. The pay was modest, but losing the job meant starvation the family lived from paycheck to paycheck.
Ive called Andrew, Sophie said, dialing Evelyns husbands number. Tell him to come and pick you up.
No, hes in a meeting!
Forget his meeting! His wife is dying, and hes sitting in a boardroom!
Andrew arrived half an hour later, helped Evelyn into bed, and summoned a doctor. The doctor prescribed antibiotics and strict bed rest.
Youll be bedridden for a week. No work.
But I
Theres no but. A 104degree fever isnt a joke. One more slip and youll end up in hospital.
When the doctor left, Andrew sat on the edge of the bed.
Evelyn, why didnt you tell us you were that bad?
My job
Work can wait. Your health cant.
Evelyn closed her eyes, exhausted. Work, house, cooking, cleaning everything fell on her. Andrew helped occasionally, always claiming he was exhausted at work himself.
The phone buzzed. A text from her motherinlaw, Margaret Whitmore: Evelyn, dont forget my anniversary is the day after tomorrow. I expect you at two oclock. Dont be late.
Evelyn winced. The anniversary sixty years was to be a grand banquet at a fancy restaurant. Relatives, friends, colleagues.
Andrew, moms message.
Yes, the day after tomorrow. You remember?
I do, but Im ill. I cant go.
Andrew frowned.
How could you not? Its my mothers anniversary!
My temperatures 104! The doctor said a week in bed.
Itll drop in two days. Take a fever reducer and well go.
Im serious, Andrew!
Mother will be hurt! You know how she is!
Evelyn knew Margaret was a domineering, touchyfeathered woman. If things didnt go her way, she threw tantrums. She never spared a daughterinlaw, always thinking Andrew could find a better match.
Let her be upset. I physically cant.
Please, try! For me!
Andrew, Im on deaths door! And youre talking about a party!
Dont exaggerate, its just a cold!
Evelyn turned to the wall, refusing to speak. Andrew slipped into the kitchen, where she heard him call his mother.
Mom, hi Yes, were remembering Listen, theres a problem. Evelyns fallen ill, badly. Her fever is high I dont know if shell make it Please, dont shout Right, well try.
He returned, looking guilty.
Mom says if you dont come, shell never see you again.
Great, I dont want to see her either.
Evelyn!
What? Im sick! Shes issuing ultimatums!
Shes upset. Its her anniversary, a big day.
Its her day, not mine.
Andrew sank onto a chair, rubbing his face.
Fine. Ill go alone and tell her youre terrible ill. Shell understand.
She wont. Shell think youre making it up.
Let her think what she wants! The important thing is you protect your health!
Evelyn looked at him, grateful for the first time that night.
The next morning her fever dipped to 101. She shuffled to the kitchen, boiled a broth. She was weak, but at least her head didnt spin.
Sophie called.
How are you?
Better. Fevers down.
Good heavens! I was fretting. Are you still going to work tomorrow?
No, the doctor gave me a weeks sick leave.
Right. Rest proper.
And the anniversary?
Sophie, Andrew wants me to go.
With a fever?
He says Mom will be hurt.
And he doesnt care about your health?
Apparently.
Sophie was silent.
Do you really want to go, or stay home?
Ill stay. No strength left.
Good. Let him go alone.
Mom will cause a scene.
Let her. Youre not at fault for being ill.
Evelyn knew Sophie was right, yet the anxiety lingered. Margaret could hold a grudge for months, turning Andrew against her.
That evening Andrew returned from work with a bouquet.
Got these for Mom tomorrow.
Beautiful.
Evelyn, are you sure you wont go?
Absolutely not. I cant.
Andrew sighed.
Alright, Ill tell Mom youre seriously ill.
Thanks.
Shell still be angry. You know her.
I know.
The next day the fever spiked to 102. Evelyn took a painkiller and collapsed back onto the bed, too weak to rise. Andrew was already dressed, polishing his shoes.
Im off to the anniversary. Youll manage on your own?
Ill manage.
Call if anything. Ill take my phone.
Okay.
When he left, Evelyn felt a strange relief. No need to face anyone, no forced smiles. She could just lie there.
Sophie called again.
Stuck at home?
Yes. Andrew left alone.
Your motherinlaw?
Dont know yet. Andrew promised to explain.
Says theyre all the same. Son gets pampered, daughterinlaw gets the cold shoulder.
Evelyn smirked. Sophie was spot on. Margaret adored her son, tormented Evelyn over every little thing the way she cooked, folded shirts, cleaned the flat. Evelyn did everything she could, but it never seemed enough.
The phone rang. Margaret Whitmores voice came through.
Hello, Evelyn?
Good afternoon, Margaret.
Andrew told me youre ill and wont attend my 60th.
Yes, unfortunately I have a high fever and the doctor forbids me to get up.
A heavy silence fell.
So on my day you chose to stay in bed?
Im seriously ill!
Everyone gets ill, dear, but they still find the strength for important events.
I havent.
Fine, thanks for the honesty. Now I know exactly what you think of me.
Evelyn clutched the handset, the sting of rejection burning.
Sophie called an hour later.
How did it go?
She called, shes furious.
Let her be. Shes done this before.
Im scared Andrew will side with her.
Has he ever been on your side?
Evelyn thought. Andrew had always leaned toward his mother, even when she was plainly wrong.
That night Andrew returned, exhausted from the celebration. He sat on the edge of the bed.
How are you?
The fevers still here.
I see.
A pause stretched.
Mother was very upset you didnt come.
She called, said Im a terrible daughterinlaw, that I didnt have the strength to attend her birthday.
Andrew was silent.
Shes right in some way.
What? Evelyn snapped, sitting upright.
It was her day, Evelyn. You could have tried.
My fever is 102!
You could have taken a pill and gone for an hour.
So my health means nothing?
Its important, but so is your mother.
Evelyn turned away, tears streaming down her cheeks. Leave.
Andrew left the room. Evelyn lay staring at the ceiling, the weight of betrayal crushing her.
The next day Sophie called, voice trembling.
Were done, Andrew.
What? Why?
He said I should have gone, that his mother is more important than my health.
That son of a! Im sorry, Evelyn.
Did you ever try to talk to him seriously?
Pointless. Mom is sacred to him.
Then you need an ultimatum.
What kind?
Either he chooses you or his mother.
Hell choose his mother, I know that.
Then why stay?
Evelyn stared at the ceiling, the question echoing.
A week later the fever finally broke. She began walking around the flat, strength returning in small, painful steps. Andrew kept his distance, eating dinner in silence, retreating to another room, answering questions with monosyllables.
Andrew, are we going to keep pretending everythings fine?
Whats there to talk about?
What happened? You didnt go to my mothers anniversary.
I was sick!
You could have tried.
You couldnt physically!
Andrew stood, his face hard.
Fine, lets stop this.
Im tired of you always siding with your mother!
Shes my mother! I have to protect her!
And Im not worth protecting?
He said nothing and left.
Evelyn called Sophie.
I think were over, Andrew.
What do you mean?
Hes not talking to me. Hes still angry about the anniversary.
Seriously? Because you didnt go while sick?
Exactly.
Do you really need a man like that?
I dont know. He used to be kind, caring.
Soon as Mom started meddling.
Yes, probably.
Sophie was quiet.
What if you went to see your motherinlaw and apologise?
For what? I did nothing wrong!
I know, but maybe itll smooth things over?
Evelyn considered it. Perhaps a gesture could end the war.
The next morning she drove to Margarets modest flat on the far side of the city. She rang the doorbell, and Margaret opened, her face as cold as ice.
Ah, youre here. What do you want?
Margaret, Id like to apologise.
For what?
For not coming to your anniversary.
Margaret smirked.
A bit late, isnt it?
I was ill. Seriously ill. I couldnt get out of bed.
Excuses.
My temperature was 104!
Evelyn, Ive lived sixty years. I know when someone truly cant and when they simply dont want to. You didnt want to come. Thats the truth.
Evelyn felt a flame ignite inside her.
Margaret, I came to make peace. But you
Im tired of pretending were a family. Im tired of your sour face at every gathering.
I didnt deserve that!
Truth. And you know what? Im fed up. Im done with the charade.
Evelyn rose.
Fine, then I have nothing left to do here.
Exactly. Leave. And dont ever return.
She left the flat, and on the staircase a sob escaped her lips. She had come to apologise and was met with poison.
Back home she told Andrew.
I went to see your mother. I wanted to apologise.
And?
She threw me out.
You must have said something wrong.
I just apologised! She started accusing me of everything!
Mothers never accuse without cause.
Maybe! What else could she do?
Andrew was silent.
You know what, Evelyn? Lets get a divorce.
Evelyn froze.
What?
Divorce. Were clearly not meant to be.
Because I didnt go to your mothers anniversary?
Not only that. You never respect her.
I dont respect her? She just kicked me out!
Probably deserved it.
Evelyn grabbed her bag.
Dont divorce. Ill leave on my own. Live with your mother if she means more to you than me.
Dont make a scene!
This isnt a scene, its the reality of wasting five years on a man who chose his mother over his wife!
She stormed out, heading to Sophies flat. Sophie opened the door, pulled Evelyn inside, and wrapped her in a hug.
What happened?
Were divorced. He wanted it.
How could he?
I loved him, cared for him!
He chose his mum. Thats his choice.
Evelyn sobbed all night. Sophie brewed tea, soothing her, promising things would get better.
A week passed. Andrew didnt call. Evelyn stayed with Sophie, returned to work, and slowly rebuilt her life.
One evening Sophie said, Youre free now, Evelyn. You can find a proper man who values you, not his mother.
Im not looking for anyone right now. I just need a break.
Rest. Youve earned it.
A few months later Andrew called.
Evelyn, we need to talk about the divorce papers.
When?
Tomorrow after work, at the café on Baker Street.
They met, sitting opposite each other.
So, were finalising the divorce? Evelyn asked.
Yes. I think its best for everyone.
Especially for your mother.
Andrew grimaced.
No, Evelyn, stop.
Whats not to say? You chose her over me. Thats the truth.
I didnt choose. I was sick.
You could have tried.
Im tired of being the mothers son forever.
Andrew stood.
Well handle the paperwork through solicitors.
Go.
When he left, Evelyn weptnot from sorrow, but relief. It was finally over.
The divorce was swift; there were hardly any assets to split. She moved into a small studio flat, landed a betterpaying job, started hitting the gym, meeting friends, traveling when she could.
Sophie beamed, Look at you, thriving!
Yes, I feel so much better.
And Andrew? Still calling?
No. And I dont miss him.
Six months later Evelyn met Alex, a divorced engineer with no children. They dated, went to the cinema, cafés, theatres. Alex was considerate, never talking about his mother every five minutes.
My mum lives up north, visits once a year. We keep in touch, but she doesnt interfere.
Thats healthy, Evelyn replied.
Your parents?
Theyre supportive, not intrusive.
Great.
A year later they married modestly, just close family and friends. Alexs mother liked Evelyn, kind and unobtrusive.
Live how you wish, she said. Just be happy.
Evelyn finally felt content, for the first time in years.
One afternoon she spotted Andrew on the street, arminarm with a young woman, Oksana.
Evelyn? Hey!
Hi.
Hows life?
Great. Im married now.
Congrats! This is Oksana, my girlfriend.
Nice to meet you.
They chatted briefly, then went their separate ways.
Sophie later asked, Do you miss him?
No, not at all. Im glad it turned out this way.
Yes, you deserve happiness.
Evelyn smiled. She finally understood that everything began with that anniversary she didnt attend. What seemed like the end of the world became the start of a new, brighter life.
Sometimes you must say no, even to those who are family, because your health and dignity matter more than anyones expectations. Margaret Whitmore never forgave her, but Evelyn no longer needed that forgiveness. She had her own life, free from a toxic motherinlaw and a sonobsessed husband.
Sophie once said, That anniversary was the best thing that ever happened to you.
Why? Evelyn asked.
Because it forced you to put yourself first, to say no, and that opened the door to your freedom.
Evelyn nodded, finally at peace.
