It was all too easy—until he was needed, then forgotten.
Edward pulled up outside his mother-in-law’s crumbling tower block, ready to collect his wife after yet another “little disagreement.” He straightened his collar and headed for the entrance, but as he neared the door, movement from a ground-floor window caught his eye. His stomach twisted.
“Mum? What are you doing here?” he whispered, recognising his mother’s face.
“Quiet,” hissed Margaret Whitmore. “Come here.”
“What’s going on?” Edward frowned.
“Just listen,” she urged, tilting her head toward the slightly open window.
From inside, voices spilled out—loud, careless. It was Emily, his wife, and her mother.
“Mum, you should’ve seen their faces. Especially that one—all weepy and pathetic. ‘It’s my fault, I couldn’t protect my grandson!’” Emily let out a sharp laugh. “Right on schedule. And my Eddie? Absolute gift. The second there’s trouble, he comes running like a loyal little spaniel. Even took them to hospital. I knew if I didn’t pin him down with that ‘pregnancy’ nonsense, he’d never propose.”
“Emily… that’s awful,” her mother muttered weakly.
“Oh, don’t be daft. The flat’s the main thing—three bedrooms, right in London, remember? I’ve already told him we need to move in together with the ‘baby’ on the way. Then we’ll nudge the old folks out somehow. Point is, Eddie’ll swallow it whole. Not the type to make a scene. Easy to… steer. However I like.”
Edward stood frozen, chest hollow, as if his heart had been carved out. His mother gripped his wrist.
“You heard?” she murmured.
He nodded, face paper-white.
“Come on.”
They walked upstairs. Edward jabbed the doorbell. Emily swung it open, beaming—still riding the high of her own cleverness.
“Darling! You’re early!” she chirped, smile tight.
“Don’t bother. I’ll bring your things myself,” he said evenly. “Divorce papers tomorrow.”
“What? Have you lost your mind? Why?”
“Because I heard everything. The ‘pregnancy,’ the flat, how convenient I am. Thanks for showing me who you really are—quickly.”
Emily’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Margaret only hissed at her former daughter-in-law: “I blamed myself. Thought I’d failed you, that we just didn’t click. Turns out a mother’s heart knows. Just didn’t want to see it.”
They left. Edward didn’t look back. His chest felt lighter, as if a great weight had finally slipped off. He walked in silence, his mother beside him—wordless for once, just squeezing his hand. A quiet solidarity, louder than any words.
