In a quiet village nestled in the Yorkshire Dales, where winter winds howl through the cracks of old stone cottages, Eleanor and her husband, James, waited in vain for their son’s visit. Their hopes dwindled, their hearts heavy with hurt.
“Looks like he won’t be coming,” Eleanor sighed, glancing at James. “We’ve grown used to it, haven’t we? No point getting angry anymore.”
“What happened this time? Did Emily stop him?” James frowned. “You two were never on good terms.”
“Maybe so,” Eleanor replied, her voice trembling. “But Thomas never spoke to us like this before. He used to visit more often, but now… his wife always has an excuse. We’ll have to hire someone to fix the roof ourselves. Our own son can’t spare a single day.”
Eleanor spoke bitterly of Thomas, their 40-year-old son, who had left the village twelve years ago for the city. Once a hands-on mechanic, he now managed a garage. In Manchester, he married Emily and bought a flat.
“He did all the work on their place himself,” Eleanor recalled. “Emily just told him what to do. They married late—she was in her thirties. Never been married before, and I see why. Who could stand that temper? We disliked each other from the start.”
“No wonder she was alone so long,” James muttered. “Remember when you tried talking to her? A disaster. What does Thomas see in her?”
Emily rarely spoke to her in-laws, allowing Thomas just one visit a year. This time, he’d promised to take leave in May to fix their leaking roof. But Emily had other plans, shattering their hopes.
“She’s expecting a baby,” Eleanor said bitterly. “Says Thomas can’t leave her alone. She’s a grown woman, a nurse—what could happen? Two weeks before his leave, she started nagging, though the train tickets were already booked.”
“Why does she do this?” James asked, though he knew the answer.
“First, she claimed she was scared to be alone, then later—” Eleanor trailed off, tears filling her eyes.
“What then? Does she drag him to work by the hand?” James snapped. “Her own parents dote on her! They could help!”
“I think they’re the ones poisoning her mind,” Eleanor said. “They told her not to let her husband visit his parents alone. Their other son-in-law used to visit his folks—then divorced their daughter. Now they’ve convinced Emily that Thomas is the same.”
“You can’t judge everyone the same!” James burst out. “Thomas has never given her reason to doubt him! And why couldn’t she come with him?”
“Come here?” Eleanor gave a hollow laugh. “She’d never step foot in this house. You know how she despises us. I tried talking to her—it’s pointless.”
She recalled the time James had called Emily, hoping to smooth things over. It ended in disaster.
“What did she say?” he asked, though he could guess.
“That we always want something, always pulling Thomas away from his real family,” Eleanor’s voice shook. “She’s tired of resisting us. Said a husband’s duty is to his wife and unborn child, not his parents’ whims. If he takes leave, he should spend it with his family. She even said our house means nothing to her!”
“What a piece of work!” James clenched his fists. “And Thomas?”
“He made excuses, but we know it’s not his fault,” Eleanor sighed. “He’s just trying to keep the peace, afraid to upset her. Scared for the baby, for her.”
James couldn’t take it. Furious, he called Thomas and let loose.
“Enough!” he shouted into the phone. “I won’t wait for you anymore! I’ll hire workers—you stay under your wife’s thumb!”
Eleanor stayed silent, her heart breaking. She understood James’ anger, but words like “wives come and go, but parents are forever” cut like a knife. Thomas was their only son, their pride—and now a wall stood between them, built by Emily. She had him on a tight leash, and he obeyed, fearing her temper.
Eleanor stared at their old, leaking roof, feeling hope trickle away with the rainwater. They’d worked their whole lives to give Thomas a better future, yet now they must pay strangers to fix what he once would’ve done. The sting of betrayal burned, but worse was the fear—Thomas slipping further away. Emily had drawn her line: her family was herself and the child, while his parents were merely a burden.
Eleanor didn’t know how to bring him back. She longed for him to visit, hug her like he did as a boy, and fix the roof together, laughing over old stories. Instead, there was only cold silence and blame. The family she’d built with love was crumbling, and she feared the cracks might never mend.
**Sometimes, love is measured not in promises kept, but in the painful silence between them.**
