Emily sat in the kitchen of her new flat, sifting through old photographs. Seven years of marriage had been condensed into one small album. She remembered how, at the start of her relationship with William, she had believed things would improve. But time had proved her wrong.
Dorothy Margaret, her mother-in-law, had nearly become a permanent fixture in their home. She would arrive unannounced, letting herself in with the key William had given her “just in case.” There was always something to criticise—the dinner wasn’t up to scratch, the flat was untidy, or Emily came home from work too late.
William usually stayed silent or changed the subject. Emily, gritting her teeth, endured it.
Now, sitting in the flat she’d inherited from her grandmother, Emily understood the wisdom of her words: “Emmy, love, the most important things are your own space and your work—then no one can push you around.” Seven years she’d spent trying to be the “perfect wife” by Dorothy Margaret’s standards.
A sharp knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. There stood Dorothy Margaret—stiff, imperious.
“What on earth are you playing at, girl?” Her mother-in-law strode past into the hallway. “William’s beside himself, and here you are lounging about.”
“What about William?” Emily couldn’t help but ask. “Why didn’t he come himself?”
“He’s got work, hasn’t he? No time to chase after your whims. Pack your things—enough of this nonsense.”
A surge of indignation rose inside Emily. Seven years of this treatment—not once had William stood up for her.
“No,” she said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere. Enough is enough.”
Dorothy Margaret’s face darkened. “What do you mean, ‘not going’? What about your family? What about William?”
“Did William ever think about me? When you barged in unannounced, criticising everything I did? When you demanded I sell my flat to fund repairs on your cottage? When you threw out my things?”
“I was only trying to help! You were so inexperienced—someone had to teach you how to be a proper wife.”
“Teach? You weren’t teaching, you were breaking me down. But I won’t let you anymore.”
Just then, Emily’s phone buzzed. William. She glanced at her mother-in-law, who watched with a smug grin.
“Answer it,” Dorothy Margaret commanded. “William will forgive you. Come home, and we’ll put all this behind us.”
Emily slid the phone into her pocket without a word.
“You know, Dorothy Margaret,” she said calmly, “I’ve made up my mind. I can’t—and won’t—live under constant scrutiny and humiliation anymore.”
The older woman’s face twisted with rage. “Humiliation? I’ve treated you like my own daughter!”
“I’m not a child who needs to be told what to do.”
“Ungrateful girl! After all I’ve done for you!”
“Go back to my son this instant, or you’ll regret it! Don’t think I don’t know about that promotion you’re after. One call to the right people—”
Emily felt her blood run cold.
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m simply explaining what happens to those who break up families. Think carefully, dear.”
“You know what, Dorothy Margaret?” Emily turned to face her fully. “Threaten all you like. I won’t be coming back. William knew exactly who he married—a strong, independent woman. You’re the one who tried to turn me into a puppet.”
“Oh, is that so?” Dorothy Margaret snatched up her handbag. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
With that, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Emily stayed by the window, a strange mix of fear and relief settling over her.
That evening, she called her friend Sarah.
“Can you believe it? She came over. Threatened to ruin my career if I didn’t go back to William.”
“Good on you for standing your ground!” Sarah said. “You know, I’ve been meaning to say… You’ve changed these past few months. More confident, calmer.”
The next day, Emily went to an interview with a top firm. Dorothy Margaret’s threats hadn’t gone unnoticed—she needed to secure her future. A pleasant woman greeted her in the office.
“Impressive CV. We’ve just opened a role for a project manager. I think you’d be perfect.”
Walking home, Emily felt warmth spread through her. A new job meant new opportunities—a fresh start.
William never called or texted again. Perhaps he’d accepted it was over. Or perhaps Dorothy Margaret had found him a more suitable match.
One evening, Emily ran into Dorothy Margaret’s neighbour.
“You should know,” the woman said, “your former mother-in-law’s been telling everyone how you abandoned her poor son. But no one’s listening—they all remember how she drove his first wife away too.”
Emily smiled, unfazed. Dorothy Margaret’s words could no longer touch her.
That night, on the balcony of her flat, Emily sorted through the old photographs. The wedding picture no longer brought pain—it was just part of her story. The story of a woman who’d found the strength to begin again. As her grandmother used to say, “The key is your own space and your work.” And something even stronger—an inner resolve that wouldn’t let anyone break her.
