The laptop shattered, and the mother-in-law blamed us
Oliver and Emily decided to celebrate the anniversary of their first meeting at a cosy café in the heart of Manchester. They returned home well past midnight.
“Finally decided to show up!” Oliver’s mother, Margaret, greeted them at the door with crossed arms. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking after the grandchildren by myself!”
“Mum, what’s wrong?” Oliver frowned. “You adore Sophie’s kids.”
“Was it really that hard to watch after them?” Emily added, slipping off her coat.
“Out having fun while I’m run ragged here!” Margaret snapped. “And where’s their mother?”
“She’s busy,” Oliver said. “Meanwhile, you two are off enjoying yourselves!” She pointed towards the kitchen. “Dishes need washing—since you’ve had your fun, now it’s time to work!”
Oliver opened his laptop, then froze, gripping the screen tightly. His blood ran cold at what he saw.
After the wedding, Oliver and Emily had rented a flat. But money grew tight, forcing them to move in with Margaret. Emily’s parents were crammed into a one-bedroom flat with her younger brother, leaving no room for the newlyweds. Oliver had switched jobs—his pay was lower now, though there were promises of promotion.
“Em, it’s temporary,” Oliver had assured her. “We’ll stay at Mum’s and save up. She’s alone—Sophie only visits sometimes and leaves the kids. We’ll manage.”
“I could pick up extra work, and so could you,” Emily suggested.
“What, work round the clock?” Oliver retorted. “I’m at the office all day, then racing off to another job? Coming home just to sleep? When do we live?”
“And living with your mum is ‘living’?” Emily sighed.
“We don’t have the money! If Mum’s happy, we’ll save faster for our own place.”
Emily said nothing. She didn’t want to live with her mother-in-law. She’d only met Oliver’s nephews—Sophie’s rowdy, spoiled children—once at the wedding. But there was no choice.
“What’s the problem?” Margaret welcomed them. “Better than throwing money at landlords. We’ll split the bills three ways—you two pay two shares, I’ll pay one. Same for groceries. I’ll do the shopping and cooking. You clean.”
“Fine, Mum,” Oliver agreed. “Em, that alright?”
“Yeah,” she breathed.
At first, it worked smoothly. The couple came home to dinner, breakfast waiting in the morning. Emily took on freelance work after her job, but weekends were ruined by the nephews’ visits. Sophie hardly showed, leaving them from Friday to Sunday.
Cleaning was impossible—the children left chaos in their wake, rifling through everything, even barging into the bedroom if Oliver and Emily were asleep.
“Oliver, ask your mum to take them,” Emily pleaded. “I barely slept!”
“They’re just kids,” he dismissed. “My nephews—so yours too. Deal with it.”
“I was working half the night!”
“Nobody forced you. Fine, I’ll get up. Meeting the lads for fishing. Be back by evening.”
“And me? I’m stuck here again?”
“Mum’s home. Want peace? Give them your laptop to play with.”
“Brilliant idea! Give them yours,” Emily shot back.
“Mine’s got work files,” he snapped. “What’s so important on yours?”
“I’ve got a deadline today!” she cried. “Go on then. I’ll handle it.”
This became routine. Oliver went off with friends—fishing, barbecues, day trips. Today was no different.
Margaret fed the boys.
“Emily, sit,” she said tersely. “Not many pancakes, but you’ll manage. Oliver said they could play with your laptop.”
“That’s a lie!” Emily snapped. “I never agreed. I’ve got work—deadline today.”
“Stingy,” Margaret scoffed. “We’re family! Sophie won’t let them touch hers—too expensive.”
“I have a week’s work on mine!” Emily snapped. “I’m working now.”
“Clean the dishes,” Margaret said, picking up her phone.
Emily scrubbed plates, fuming that no one else lifted a finger. Margaret was already chatting away:
“Janet, of course we’ll meet! An hour at the shopping centre. Who’s making noise? The boys. Don’t worry, Emily will watch them. Good practice—she’s got none of her own.”
Emily nearly dropped a plate. Silently, she packed her things, grabbed her laptop, and left. Margaret said nothing—likely planning to drop her exit as a last-minute bombshell.
Emily headed to an internet café where she often worked. Settled in a corner with coffee, she focused on her project. Half an hour later, Oliver called:
“Em, where are you? What’s going on?”
“Working,” she said flatly. “Deadline today.”
“Mum’s in a state! Where’ve you gone?”
“I can’t work in that noise.”
“You ruined her plans with Janet!”
“Invite Janet over then.”
“With those little terrors?”
“Then stay with them yourself. Let your mum go. They have a mother!”
“You’re making this up,” Oliver snapped.
“Or are you?” Emily countered. “Your mum ‘welcomed’ us so warmly, and this is the price. This month, she ‘ran short’ and took extra from us. You didn’t notice?”
“You’re petty!” Oliver shot back.
“And where’s your money going?” Emily flared. “Not a penny for your mum—that’s on me. But always enough for your mates! Twelve days a month, your nephews eat at our expense. Mum buys them sweets, ice cream—us, nothing. Best bits go to them. Sophie carts them off with full bags. When we rented, we spent a third less! You call this ‘saving’? Want this forever? I’ll get paid for this job and move out. Your choice—come with me or we’re done.”
“Em, where are you?” Oliver’s voice wavered.
“Why do you care?”
“Fishing’s off. Don’t want to go home. Let’s spend the day together.”
“I’m working.”
“I’ll sit quietly. You at our café?”
“Fine, come. I need an hour—wouldn’t have finished at home.”
Oliver arrived with flowers.
“What’s this for?” Emily asked.
“Anniversary of the day we met,” he smiled. “I’ll order your favourite cakes and coffee.”
“Right, forgot,” she sighed. “Let me check this and send it off.”
They walked until late, resolving to find a flat. Emily had been right—Margaret had been exploiting them, turning Oliver against his wife, calling her selfish.
They returned home late.
“Decided to grace us with your presence!” Margaret barked. “Where’ve you been? I’ve been stuck with these boys all day!”
“Mum, you love having them,” Oliver said calmly.
“I’ve had enough today!” she shouted. “Janet wanted to go out, but I had to bring her here. She hated it! Where was Sophie?”
“Busy,” Oliver shrugged. “If she saw us out, she could’ve taken them.”
“Wash the dishes!” Margaret snapped. “Had your fun—now work!”
Emily changed, heading for the kitchen, but Oliver stopped her. He opened his laptop—and went rigid. The screen was cracked, crucial files gone.
“What’s this?” he whispered, paling. “Em, I left it on the shelf!”
“I didn’t touch it,” she said. “Ask your mum.”
“Mum!” Oliver shouted. “What happened to my laptop?”
“Don’t yell, they’re asleep!” Margaret hissed. “I’m exhausted.”
“Why did you take it?” Oliver demanded. “Where are my files?”
“The boys played with it,” she waved off. “Tiny crack, no big deal. At least it kept them quiet.”
“They deleted everything!” Oliver exploded. “They’re ten and eight—they knew what they were doing!”
“Your own nephews?” Margaret gasped.
“Enough!” Oliver roared. “Em, we’re finding a flat. Open yours—I’ll sort this mess.”
“Who’s doing the dishes?” Margaret fumed.
“Whoever used them,” Oliver shot back. “We weren’t here.”
Watching her husband’s fury, Emily searched for flats. She’d never seen him like this. The laptop had been expensive—bought with his student savings.
“Oliver, don’t panic—we’ll get a new one,” she soothed.
“No, I’ll fix it,” he muttered. “Password was on the lid—my fault. Never thought Mum would do this. You were right this morning—I nearly handed yours over. Sorry for everything. We’ve got enough for now.”
Next morning, they left without glancing at the kitchen, taking both laptops. They viewed a fewAfter that day, Oliver and Emily never looked back, building a life where respect and fairness were never up for debate.
