I whispered, I want a divorce, and turned my face away.
It was a bleak evening in London when Emma quietly said, I want a divorce, averting her gaze from the eyes of her husband, James.
Jamess complexion drained instantly, a mute question hanging between us.
Im leaving you to the woman you truly love, Emma said, realizing that the most important woman in Jamess life had always been his mother. I cant be the understudy any longer.
A tight knot formed in my throat, tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. Years of disappointment and hurt surged forward, squeezing the breath from my chest.
What are you talking about? Another woman? James asked, bewildered, staring at his wife as if he couldnt comprehend.
Weve talked about this countless times. Since we married, your mother has been draining us financially, emotionally, and timewise, and you accept it because her soup is tangier and her scones are fluffier. I cant live like this any more, Emma burst out.
Tears streamed down her flushed face. She mourned the clearcut dreams she once held: a promising fiancé, a respectable career, a life in central London that had always felt like a battle for personal happiness.
Five years earlier, Emma had timidly stepped into the spacious living room of their flat. The furniture, the china, the décoreverything seemed expensive and fragile to a girl who had spent most of her life in shared houses and, most recently, a university hall of residence.
How did I ever get so lucky to find a man with his own flat? she had joked, placing her hands on Jamess shoulders.
Just wait until I leave my socks everywhere, then tell me how impressed you are, James had replied with a grin.
Emma had moved in with him almost immediately after they met. Their romance blossomed, demanding a sequel of its own.
At the time, Emma was in her final year of studying journalism at Kings College, while James, five years her senior, worked as a sales manager earning a solid salary.
A year after moving in, they married.
Soon we can turn the spare room into a nursery, Emma had said once, hugging James and hinting that she was ready for children.
But a month later an unexpected guest arrived: Jamess mother, Mrs. Clarke, stood on the doorstep with two battered suitcases. She believed she had an exemplary relationship with her sonat least from her perspective.
Her upbringing, steeped in perpetual guilt and the demands of a selfmade man, had produced a son who felt indebted to her. Proud of his achievements, she assumed all his success was her doing.
Each payday James allocated money to pay off debts for the flat, the car, and his own upbringing. Emma watched from the sidelines, never wanting to rupture their marriage, and only broached the subject delicately now and then.
Where did you invest the proceeds from the house sale? Emma asked while pouring tea, tiptoeing around the topic. Mrs. Clarke hailed from a tiny village near Cambridge, where she had inherited a modest cottage with a garden.
Every year James offered to help find a new flat in the city, but his mother refused to move. Suddenly she sold her cottagequickly, but at a low price.
Partly for my future holidays, partly for my new business, she explained.
Despite the hardships of her youth, Mrs. Clarke remained ambitious, active, and undeniably domineering. Dealing with such people required caution; they were known to bite the hand that offered them a finger.
Recently she had discovered an online cosmetics firm. A condition for further collaboration was a substantial monthly purchase of products. It was precisely this profit into which Mrs. Clarke poured the money from the house sale.
Ive decided it wont be a problem living here, she declared confidently, stirring honey into her tea.
Of course, we love having guests! Emma replied, trying to keep the situation temporary. Ill ask my friend, shes an estate agent; shell find something nicer in a pleasant district.
No need. Two flats are too many. Well save by staying with me; its not a problem, Mrs. Clarke retorted, casting herself as the victim of circumstance.
Emma stared at James, hopeful yet weary. She didnt dislike his mother, but sharing the household indefinitely was an untenable arrangement. James merely shrugged. Whatever you think is best.
He always sided with his mother, no matter how questionable her ideas, believing he had no right to oppose anything Mrs. Clarke said or did.
Her schemes ranged from macramé to candlemaking, soapcrafting, diarybinding, and photoalbum creation. She saw a gold mine in James, financing all the supplies and paying for a comfortable lifestyle.
Since becoming a senior manager, Mrs. Clarke hadnt worked a single day.
Jamess childlike devotion to his mother, thanking her for his life and upbringing, smothered his own will. It manifested not only in excessive financial support but also in blind acquiescence to every demand.
It was astonishing how a grown, independent man could be so easily manipulated, responding to every ploy as if he were a child.
In the end the spare room never became a nursery, and after three years little had changed. Emma worked for a publishing house, her articles appearing in the Family & Relationships section, where she illuminated joyful and sorrowful stories from a psychological angleyet she could not bring clarity to her own home.
Her voice was unheard, relegated to the background while Mrs. Clarke wielded the family scepter.
Emma understood the dynamics: a singlechild of a single mother marrying a man whose mother would claim all his time and moneya danger that could only be fought by focusing entirely on oneself.
Mrs. Clarkes sense of superiority and the belief that her son owed her everything only deepened the problem. Only James could have recognized the issue, but he seemed utterly blind.
The flats atmosphere was now saturated with the cosmetics companys products; Emma could no longer bear the sight of the bottles and jars. Mrs. Clarkes business never yielded the promised income, and Emma saw it as a hollow pastime for her husband and a diversion for his mother.
She had raised the subject repeatedly, only to hear, Mum knows what shes doing, from James and Patience, love. A tree doesnt grow overnight, from Mrs. Clarke. Yet three years later the tree still showed no signs of growth while expenses kept climbing.
When Mrs. Clarke suggested, Emma, you should also invest in the family business, Emma finally realized that drastic measures were needed.
The final straw came on New Years Eve 2023. After a long stretch without a night out alone, James and Emma ventured to an iceskating rink in HydePark, then lingered in a tiny café in Covent Garden.
Emmas cheeks were flushed, her smile radiant, the kind of love that warmed anyone nearby.
James, are you happy? she asked.
Of course, he replied, taking her hand. How could I not be with you by my side?
I want a child, Emma whispered, leaning closer.
Right now? James smiled, kissing her hand.
That evening they agreed it was time to bring a miracle into the world. Yet a day later Mrs. Clarke burst into their bedroom as Emma returned from work.
You cant have a baby now! she shouted.
Stunned by the audacity, Emma didnt reply immediately.
James hasnt finished paying off the mortgage, he still owes on the car, she retorted, finally confronting her motherinlaw. Youre just afraid hell stop feeding your endless whims.
Mrs. Clarke seemed to understand, yet clung to her comfortable lifestyle, responding after a pause, James will see that Im right.
Emma feared this might be true, for her husband leaned heavily on his mothers opinion.
No obstacle could stop Emma from wanting a child with the man she loved, but Mrs. Clarke proved a hefty barrier, leaving Emma disappointed yet still hopeful for Jamess reason.
Later that night it became clear James was hopelessly lost, even to himself.
Yesterday he had embraced the idea of a child enthusiastically; today he muttered, Maybe its not time yet, why rush? Were not ready, we cant provide everything. Emma knew they could not continue like this.
I want a divorce, she declared, the conversation that would finally decide everything. She made this conscious choice because their family life had hit a deadend.
Jamess face turned ashen.
Ill leave you to the woman you truly love. I wont be a second choice any longer.
She could no longer shut her eyes to the searing pain of injustice. How many times had she tried to talk since Mrs. Clarke moved in, only to be ignored? No amount of conversation had broken through. Tears welled up.
What are you talking about? Another woman? James asked, stunned, staring at his wife.
Since we married youve only ever said, Mum, Mum Her soup is tangier and her scones are fluffier. She runs all our finances. I cant do this any longer.
James struggled to comprehend how they had arrived here, wondering when he lost control, or if he ever had it. When Emma fell silent, he sat beside her on the bed, looking at her tearstreaked face.
Is it really just about Mum living with us? he whispered.
Cant you see? Shes taken you completely. Youre not even your own man. Without my wages wed be scraping by. She forbade me from becoming pregnant because she fears losing her generous income stream. Your mother is a good woman, but she must recognise boundaries she should never cross, and you constantly erase those limits by being overly accommodating. You both suffer, as will any child we might have. Your debts are long paid off, Jameslive for yourself, not for your mother.
The conversation was uncomfortable for both, yet James asked for a chance, promising to sort out his mothers influence and prioritize their future together.
The first steps were hard: refusing the large monthly sums Mrs. Clarke demanded for her empty venture, then telling her she could no longer stay with them.
A month later Emma chose wallpaper for the childrens room. She got along better with the motherinlaw when they didnt share a roof; occasionally Mrs. Clarke dropped by, visibly struggling with her sons changed behaviour, but eventually she relented, realizing she could no longer place the full weight of the family on James.
Without his financial backing, she could no longer fund the cosmetics purchases and was essentially evicted. She eventually found a regular job and learned to rely on herself.
A year later they welcomed a baby, and Mrs. Clarke, now content with her own life, happily helped James and Emma. The whole family spent time together, and everyone was happy.
