He’s tearing us apart from within: I fear my husband’s uncle will be the ruin of our family.
My husband, Edward, always listened to his uncle—Charles Whitmore. He respected him, held him up as an example, trusted him in all things. Yet from the very first day, I couldn’t fathom what there was to admire in that man. Harsh, irritable, forever at odds with everyone—neighbours, colleagues, even his own family. At his old job, they tolerated him only because of his years of service, though he’d managed to quarrel with half the staff.
But everything changed when Charles took Edward under his wing at work. Before him, no one stayed long—most left within six months. Charles nitpicked everything, rushed his men, shifted blame. But Edward, gentle and slow to anger, endured it all—silently redoing tasks, calming his uncle’s outbursts. He even liked the job, though the unfair split of profits—half to Charles, half to him—always rankled me.
After we married, I realised Edward couldn’t hold his drink. He became someone else—aggressive, unpredictable. I’d hoped Charles might guide him, given how much Edward looked up to him. Instead, he only poured oil on the fire. They started visiting the pub together, returning in dreadful states. When I protested, Edward parroted Charles’ words: “The man is the head of the house, and a woman must obey.”
Later, during one of their rows, Edward began repeating nonsense about my mother—that she was a schemer turning everyone against him. They’d met but twice, and both times were perfectly civil. It became clear: Charles wasn’t just influencing him—he was turning my own husband against my family. Against me.
Edward and I used to decide everything together. Now, he withdraws. My advice falls on deaf ears; any concern is met with hostility. As if I’m a threat—not his wife, but an enemy of his uncle. I watched him change, knowing the root of it all was Charles. But how do you fight a man your husband reveres?
Then, unexpectedly, Charles was sacked—another row, his temper finally too much for management. Edward, meanwhile, was promoted, taking his uncle’s place. It wounded Charles’ pride. He left town, claiming it was temporary, though I knew he couldn’t bear being beneath Edward in rank.
And now, my husband tells me Charles is returning—as his assistant. I was horrified. I begged Edward to speak to his superiors, find someone else. But he refused. “We worked well enough before,” he said.
I know how this ends. Charles won’t accept being second. He’ll find ways to undermine, to sabotage. He knows how to play these games. He envies. He can’t share power. He always pulls the blanket to his side.
I barely recognise my husband anymore. He’s become a puppet in his uncle’s hands. If this continues, I fear we won’t survive it. Either he’ll lose his position, or I’ll lose my marriage. Perhaps both. I don’t know how to live with this dread. How to salvage what little we have left.
