Sophie sat in the kitchen of her new flat, flipping through an old photo album. Seven years of marriage squeezed into a single book. She remembered how, in the early days with William, she’d believed things would get better. Time, of course, had other plans.
Margaret—her mother-in-law—had practically moved in. She’d turn up unannounced, letting herself in with the spare key William had given her “just in case.” There was always something to nitpick: the roast wasn’t tender enough, the floors weren’t spotless, Sophie worked too late.
William would stay silent or change the subject. Sophie, gritting her teeth, endured it.
Now, in the flat she’d inherited from her gran, Sophie finally understood her words: “Love, all you need is your own space and a steady job. Then no one can boss you about.” Seven years she’d spent trying to be the “perfect wife” by Margaret’s standards.
A knock at the door snapped her back to the present. Margaret stood there—back straight, expression stern.
“What on earth are you playing at, girl?” She barged past Sophie into the hall. “William’s beside himself, and you’re here lounging about!”
“How is William?” Sophie couldn’t help asking. “Why didn’t he come himself?”
“He’s busy, unlike some. Pack your things—enough of this nonsense.”
A wave of indignation rose in Sophie’s chest. Seven years of this—and not once had William stood up for her.
“No,” she said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve had enough.”
Margaret’s face twisted. “What d’you mean, ‘no’? What about your family? What about William?”
“And when did William think of me? When you’d waltz in uninvited, criticising everything? When you demanded I sell my flat to fix up your cottage? When you tossed out my things?”
“I was only trying to help! You were so naive—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.”
Her phone buzzed. William. Sophie glanced at Margaret, who watched with a smug grin.
“Answer it,” Margaret ordered. “He’ll forgive you. Come home, and we’ll move on.”
Silently, Sophie slipped the phone into her pocket.
“You know, Margaret,” she said calmly, “I’ve made up my mind. I won’t live under your thumb anymore.”
Margaret’s face darkened. “My thumb? I treated you like my own daughter!”
“I’m not a child who needs micromanaging.”
“Ungrateful! After all I’ve done!”
“Go back to my son, or you’ll regret it! Think I don’t know about that promotion you’re after? One phone call to the right people…”
Sophie’s blood ran cold. “Are you threatening me?”
“I’m explaining consequences. Think carefully, girl.”
“You know what, Margaret?” Sophie turned to face her. “Threaten all you like. I’m not coming back. William married a strong woman. You wanted a puppet.”
“Is that so?” Margaret snatched up her handbag. “Consider yourself warned.”
She stormed out, slamming the door. Sophie stood by the window, equal parts shaken and relieved.
That evening, she rang her friend Emily.
“You’ll never believe it. She showed up. Threatened to ruin my career if I didn’t go back.”
“Good on you for standing firm!” Emily cheered. “Honestly, you’ve changed these past months—more confident, happier.”
The next day, Sophie interviewed at a top firm. Margaret’s threats had lit a fire under her. The hiring manager, a warm woman, smiled.
“Impressive CV. We’ve a project lead role opening up. You’d be perfect.”
Walking home, Sophie felt a glow inside. A new job meant a fresh start.
William never called. Perhaps he’d accepted it was over. Or maybe Margaret had found him a more “suitable” wife.
One evening, she bumped into Margaret’s neighbour.
“Funny thing,” the woman said. “Your ex-mother-in-law’s been telling everyone you abandoned poor William. But no one’s listening—they remember how she hounded his first wife out too.”
Sophie just smiled. Margaret’s words couldn’t touch her now.
That night, on her balcony, she sifted through the photos again. The wedding picture didn’t ache anymore. It was just part of her story—a woman who’d found the strength to start anew.
As her gran used to say: “All you need is your own space and a steady job.” That, and the backbone to never let anyone bend you out of shape.
