Youll send the child to boarding school since he isnt my son! Evelyn Whitaker says, her smile thin as lace.
You dont expect my James to look after someone elses kid, do you? Iryna Harcourt places a porcelain cup carefully on its saucer. The boys grown; a bit of independence would do him good.
Iryna feels the room freeze. Evelyns immaculate silver hair, immaculate manicure, sparkling jewellery all take on a strange, predatory hue. Behind the smile stretched across her thin lips something fierce and dangerous lurks.
Luke wakes early, as usual. Iryna is already at the stove, flipping scrambled eggs with a wooden spatula. The scent of fresh herbal tea fills their new kitchen. Two weeks after the wedding she still hasnt fully claimed the house as her own; everything feels temporary, as if she and her son are only guests in Jamess spacious Kent cottage.
Mum, have you seen my blue jumper? Luke appears in the doorway, clutching a stack of textbooks to his chest.
Its on the top shelf of your wardrobe Iryna replies, smiling as she watches her son. At fourteen hes almost as tall as she is, his features sharpening, taking after his father. Brush your hair, you look like a dandelion.
Luke huffs but smoothes the dark tufts obediently. Iryna sets a plate before him.
No more moves? he asks quietly, eyes fixed on the food.
No more, Iryna brushes his shoulder lightly. We finally have a home.
James comes downstairs while Luke finishes breakfast. Tall, with warm brown eyes, he looks a touch rumpled from sleep. He kisses Iryna on the cheek and ruffles Lukes hair.
Hows the exam prep, lad? he asks.
Fine, Luke shrugs, though Iryna catches a fleeting grin. In the halfyear theyve known each other, the boy has begun to thaw around his stepfather.
A knock interrupts the meal. Evelyn Whitaker steps in uninvited, her trademark smile polite yet icy.
Good morning, family! she kisses James on the forehead, nods at Iryna, and seems to ignore Luke entirely. James, you forgot my car registration papers. Ive brought them.
While James sifts through the documents, Evelyn scans the kitchen, noting every detail. Iryna feels her shoulders tighten. From their first meeting shes sensed that evaluating gaze, the one that makes you want to curl up.
Iryna, are you free after lunch? the motherinlaw asks suddenly. Come over for tea, have a proper chat, get to know each other better.
Of course, Iryna replies, trying to sound enthusiastic.
Luke looks at his mother with suspicion; he always feels something off. Evelyns smile widens, but her eyes stay frosty.
Perfect. Ill see you at three.
When Evelyns door shuts, Iryna exhales, a wave of inexplicable anxiety settling under her ribs. James, noticing her tension, wraps an arm around her shoulders.
Shes just trying, in her own way.
Right, Iryna says, though she doesnt believe the words.
At half past two Iryna stands in the hallway mirror, adjusting the collar of her blouse. Luke, heading to his maths club, watches her nervous movements.
She doesnt love you, he blurts out. And she doesnt love me either.
Dont be silly, Iryna strokes his cheek. She just needs time.
I never understood why adults put on a show, Luke shrugs. She looks at us like were dirt beneath her shoes.
Iryna has no retort. Evelyn lives two doors down, in the neighbouring cottage of the same gated estate. The front door swings open as soon as she arrives, as if shes been waiting.
Come in, dear. The kettles on.
The sitting room gleams with immaculate order. Antique furniture, paintings in expensive frames, a china collection all shout of the owners wealth.
Iryna perches on the edge of the sofa, hands folded on her knees. Evelyn pours tea into fine porcelain cups and places a platter of scones within reach.
You want James to be happy, dont you? she asks, stirring sugar into her cup.
The question sparks a knot of dread in Irynas chest.
Of course I do, Iryna answers cautiously, feeling her heart race. We all want our loved ones to be content.
Evelyn picks up a scone with a silver fork, bites it slowly. A dab of cream clings to the corner of her mouth; she wipes it away with a napkin and fixes Iryna with a hard stare.
My son deserves a proper family, she says, eyes never leaving Irynas. Youre charming and capable, but theres a problem.
She sets her cup down, the porcelain chiming, echoing Irynas tremor.
Youll send the boy to a specialist school since he isnt my son! Evelyn says as casually as if offering a biscuit. Ive already looked into it. Its a prestigious boarding school with top teachers and an excellent programme.
Iryna freezes, unable to comprehend. How can this impeccably poised woman speak of a living child as a burden? Of her husbands son? Of Luke?
Evelyn, are you serious? Iryna whispers.
Not at all, dear, Evelyn slides a glossy brochure across the table. Hes fourteen now. Four years will pass in a blink. James will want his own family, his own children. Your boy isnt his blood.
She grimaces, as if uttering something indecent. Ill cover all the costs. Consider it a gift.
Iryna looks at Evelyns smiling face and sees emptiness behind it, a total lack of humanity. Her knees shake as she rises.
My son isnt going anywhere, Iryna says softly but firmly. Hes part of my life, part of me.
Dont dramatise, Evelyn scoffs. Think of Jamess career, your future together. The boy will only get in the way.
His name is Luke, Iryna clenches her fists. Hes my family. If your son cant see that
My son doesnt understand much yet, Evelyn interjects, but eventually hell realise a stepchild is a liability, especially a teenage boy. There can be no real bond between him and James.
Nausea rises in Irynas throat. She stands abruptly, spilling tea onto the tablecloth.
Im sorry, I have to go, she says, rushing out, the door closing behind her as Evelyns shout fades. Tears burn her eyes; rage and hurt churn inside.
Back in the cottage Iryna collapses onto the bed, letting the tears flow. When James returns, she chokes out the story.
That cant be right, he says, shaking his head. Mum would never
Call her, Irynas voice trembles. Ask her yourself. Right now.
James reluctantly dials on speaker.
Mum, Iryna told me about your conversation. Is this a misunderstanding? he asks.
Evelyn sighs on the line.
Son, this is a grownup matter. I merely suggested a sensible solution. The boy would thrive at a specialist school, and you could build the family you both want
God, James whispers, pale. Did you really say that?
Of course I did! And Im right! Evelyns tone hardens. That boy isnt yours! Why waste your life on him? she adds, genuine bewilderment in her voice.
James pauses, gathering his thoughts. When he finally speaks, his voice is low but steady.
Luke stopped being a stranger the moment I chose Iryna. That matters, you understand? You love a woman, you accept her child.
Romantic nonsense! Evelyn snaps. Youre blinded by love now, but in a year or two youll see the truth
Enough, James cuts her off. Iryna sees a resolve in him she never knew existed. The problem isnt my understanding; its yours.
Luke is part of my family. If thats an insurmountable obstacle for you, then perhaps we should pause our relationship.
How dare you speak to me like that! Evelyn shrieks. Im your mother! Ive given you everything
Youre my mother, not the master of my life, James replies calmly, though his shoulders are tense. If you suggest getting rid of Luke again, Ill cut ties with you. Thats my final word.
Silence hangs on the line, then a few short beeps.
Im sorry, James drops onto the edge of the bed, covering his face with his hands. I didnt know I never imagined she could be so cruel.
Iryna sits beside him, speechless.
Do you think shell calm down? she asks finally.
No. Its just the beginning, James says, eyes full of pain.
Three days pass in oppressive quiet. Evelyn doesnt appear, doesnt call. James is a taut wire at work, silent at home. Iryna catches his guilty glances, tries to reassure him, but anxiety grows.
On Thursday the phone rings. Iryna sees Evelyns number flash.
We need to talk, Evelyn says dryly. All three of us, tonight.
I dont think thats a good idea, Iryna begins, but Evelyn cuts her off.
Its about my sons future. Either you come to my house, or Ill come to yours. Choose.
James comes home early, his face weary, shadows under his eyes.
Your mother called, Iryna says quietly. She wants a meeting.
James nods.
I know. She called me too. She says shes changed her mind, that shell accept our family.
Do you believe her? Iryna asks, watching him.
No, he shakes his head. But I have to try to fix this.
Im scared for Luke, Iryna whispers. He shouldnt have to hear this.
James pulls her close.
Itll be fine. He wont find out.
At seven they stand before Evelyns front door. She opens immediately, elegant in an expensive suit, nothing betraying the recent clash.
Come in, her voice is unusually gentle. Ive ordered dinner.
The table is set like a banquet. Crystal, silver, a bottle of fine red wine. Evelyn serves the food, sits opposite them.
I overreacted, she admits, looking at James. A mothers worry sometimes makes us say terrible things. She turns to Iryna. Im sorry, love. I was wrong.
Iryna nods silently, not believing a word. Evelyns eyes remain cold, calculating.
Thats why, Evelyn continues, I want to make amends. Remember the inheritance I mentioned? The house in London, the cottage by the sea, my savings?
James frowns.
Mum, not now, he says.
No, now, she raises a hand. Im rewriting my will in your favour, and for your future children real children.
She locks eyes with Iryna.
In return, I ask only one thing. Let Luke live with you, but dont treat him as a son. Dont waste your resources on him. Hes nobody.
James puts his fork down slowly. The room seems to chill.
So you havent changed your mind, he whispers.
Im merely offering a compromise, Evelyn shrugs. Luke stays, but you dont shoulder his care. It makes sense.
Iryna feels a hot surge of anger. Her fingers clench until they hurt. Before she can react, James stands.
You know what, he says, a sudden clarity in his tone Ive spent my whole life trying to meet your expectations: elite education, career, money
He turns toward the window.
But I see now I was never a son, only your project. If I accept your terms, Ill never truly be a father.
What are you talking about? Evelyn asks. Im looking out for your future!
No, James shakes his head. Youre protecting your fantasies. My family is Iryna and Luke. Thats my choice.
Evelyns face turns pale.
Youll regret this! No inheritance! Nothing! All the things I prepared for you
Keep it, James grabs Irynas hand. Well manage.
They leave, ignoring Evelyns cries and curses. Outside, Iryna weepsnot from grief, but from relief.
Are you sure? she asks, looking at James. Its a lot of money, your future
My future is you two, he squeezes her palm. Ill earn the rest myself.
A week later James picks up Luke after his maths club, alone, without Iryna. The boy steps out of school, eyeing his stepfather warily.
Mum busy? he asks, sliding into the drivers seat.
No, James starts the engine. I just wanted to talk, just us, men.
They drive to the park. Waffle cones cool their hands as they sit on a bench by the waters edge. White sails drift across the lake, leaving ripples behind.
Luke licks a vanilla icecream ball, then, without looking up, says,
I know about Grandmothers ultimatum. He pauses. Our house feels like its made of paper. Even headphones cant drown it out.
James nods.
What do you think?
I think you chose us over money, Luke shrugs. Thats odd.
Why?
Adults usually pick money, Luke watches the water, avoiding Jamess gaze.
You know, James leans back, Ive been my mothers son all my life. Now I want to try being a father. If youre okay with that.
Luke stays silent. The sun gilds the water, the breeze rustles the trees.
She might change her mind, Luke finally says, give you back the inheritance if you walk away from us.
I know, James replies. But a father isnt the one who gives you life. Hes the one who chooses you, stays beside you no matter what.
They sit, separated by an invisible line. A man with the first silver strands at his temples and a teenager with awkwardly long arms each carrying their own loss and scar.
Luke glances at his sneakers, bites his lip, then exhales softly, as if diving into cold water:
Thanks, dad. The word slips out with a faint stumble, as if tasting it for the first time.
James swallows a lump and rests his hand on the boys shoulder.
Lets go home, son. Mum will be worried.
That evening they cook dinner together. They chop vegetables, laugh at Jamess clumsy sauce attempts. Luke talks about the upcoming maths Olympiad, Iryna shares news of her new job, James mentions plans for a short holiday. A normal family night.
While they build their little world, in the grand house behind the hedges, Evelyn stands before an antique gilded mirror. A crystal glass of fine wine trembles in her delicate fingers. Her reflection is flawless every curl in place, wrinkles artfully concealed, sapphire earrings glinting coldly. Only her eyes betray the truth: two frozen wells, empty of anything but the echoing silence of defeat. For the first time, money loses to human warmth.
She cannot foresee that a year later James will returnnot for inheritance, but with simple words: Were ready to take you in, if youre ready to take us. She will eventually call Luke a grandson, first through gritted teeth, then with reluctant pride.
But that lies ahead. Right now, in a kitchen scented with basil and fresh bread, three people learn what is stronger than blood and wealth a true family.
