She Taught Her Husband, His Mother, and His Sister a Lesson They’d Never Forget

Taught My Husband, Mother-in-Law, and Sister-in-Law a Lesson

Wheres my dinner, Emily? Im asking you, wheres the food?!

Emily didnt even bother to turn towards her husband. She sat at the edge of the sofa, cradling a bundle from which soft grumbles could be heard.

Please, Oliver, hush, she whispered. Shes only just drifted off. Ive spent half the day at the doctors, then the chemist, and then

I dont give a toss where youve been! her husband barged into the living room, coat still on. I work, I provide for you and the baby! I come home and I want to see a bowl of hot soup on the table, not your miserable face and endless wailing. Whatve you been doing all day?

I was nursing your daughter, Emily looked up at him. Shes broken out in a rash again. None of the doctors know whats going onI had to find creams for her myself. Have you once asked how shes feeling?

Whats there to ask? If shes crying, shes alive. Youre her mother, you deal with it. Its your job to keep things comfortable for me. Why else did I get married? To eat frozen pies and stay up all night?

You got married because it was convenient for you, Emily shot back. And I married you because everyone around me kept saying, Its time, its time. Well, heres what that time has brought.

Oliver frowned, marched over to the pram in the corner, and gave its wheel a forceful kick. The pram rolled away and crashed into the dresser.

Emilys daughter, who she held in her arms, shrieked and immediately started up a fresh bout of sobbing.

Shut her up! Oliver barked. Or I swear, Ill lose it.

Just a year before, Emilys life had been unrecognisable. Shed been the girl who turned heads as she walked byimpeccable style, sharp wit, weekends always booked.

Oliver had seemed like a modern Prince Charming: handsome, ambitious, used to getting his way.

They were one of those couples who kept splitting up and making up, each episode unfolding dramatically before an ever-watchful public.

When Oliver proposed, Emily hesitated, but her parents intervened.

Emily darling, how much longer are you going to carry on like this? her mother said as she heaped homemade scones onto her plate. Youre twenty-seven. Olivers a decent chap, from a good family. Youre planning for a flat, arent you? And childrenyou have thought about wholl bring you a glass of water when youre old?

Mum, honestly. I like my job. Ive just taken on a new project.

Works all well and good, her father chipped in from behind his paper, but a woman without a family is like a tree without roots. Youll wither and not even notice.

Oliver loves you. So what if hes stubborn? Everyone has their faults. Youll make it work.

So, Emily caved. That moment of weakness was one shed come to regret, replaying it in her mind during every sleepless night thereafter.

The wedding was a lavish affair, the flat bought on a mortgage, and the pregnancyutterly unexpected.

Everything happened far too quickly. Before shed even adjusted to the idea of being a wife, she found herself a vessel for new life.

Shed hoped for a son. Shed pictured taking him to football, imagined a quiet, thoughtful boy much like herself.

Then the ultrasound revealed: Its a girl. Something inside her slipped.

The birth was a nightmare of complications, IV drips, and endless, bleach-scented NHS corridorsthe scent of despair.

When she was finally discharged, Emily felt like a broken vase clumsily stuck back together, but still in pieces.

Looking at the tiny being in her cot, all she felt was a relentless irritation.

Why wont she stop screaming? she asked her own mother, whod come to help.

Its colic, love. We all survived it. You will too. Give her a feed.

She wont take it! Everything hurts, Mum!

Youre not holding her right, then. Try harder. Youre a mother now; forget what you want. You do what you must.

Meanwhile, Oliver had simply removed himself from the picture. For the first fortnight, he made some effort to play the doting dad, but he quickly lost interest.

The nappies bothered him, the scattered baby things, but most of all, he resented that Emily was no longer his personal geisha.

***

Mum called, Oliver announced in the kitchen, watching Emily try to stir thin broth with one hand while fighting to keep their grizzly daughter on her hip. She says Grace was in tears again.

Grace, Olivers older sister by three years, had been married for five years with no children. Each time she saw Emilys posts on Facebook or heard about her niece, she had a meltdown.

And what am I supposed to do? Apologise for giving birth? Emily slammed the spoon on the counter.

You should be more modest. Mum says you flaunt your motherhood just to upset her.

And she reckons youre a poor housewife. Dust on the skirting boards, Emily.

Your mother hasnt even been round for a fortnight, Oliver. How would she know about dust?

She knows! Oliver smacked the table. Look at yourself. A stained dressing gown, eyes red. You look like some farmers wife whos been mucking out stables.

If you helped me outif you got up just once in the night

I work! he shouted, cutting her off. Try getting that into your head. I bring the money in. You deal with the house and the baby.

By the way, were off to your parents cottage on Saturday. They called. Said the air will do the baby good. My parents are coming too.

I dont want to go. Its freezing out there, no decent water to wash her, and your mother will be whispering with mine behind my back again.

I dont care what you want. The parents said its happening. Bags packed by eightno whining.

***

At the cottage, things only got worse. Emilys parents, delighted with their new grandchild status, were jostling over who held the baby.

Emily, youre holding her all wrong! her mother yelled from the gazebo. Support her head! Goodness, who taught you to wrap her like that? Let me.

Just leave me alone, Emily snapped, retreating to the far end of the garden.

Oliver, meanwhile, made a point of blanking both wife and daughter. He sat with his father-in-law chatting about the car, and whenever his mother joined in to criticise Emily, he merely fuelled the fire.

Oh, Em, whats that on her face? Another rash? her mother-in-law, Patricia, peered into the pram. Youre not looking after her. Probably something you ate.

If only Grace had a baby. Shed be ever so careful. Shes so tidy

Well, let Grace have one thenwhats stopping her? snapped Emily.

Patricia clutched her chest in theatrical horror.

Oliver! Did you hear that? Shes mocking your sisters misfortune!

Oliver strode over, grabbed Emily by the elbow and squeezed hard.

Apologise to my mother. Now.

Let go, youre hurting me!

I said apologise. Have you lost your mind?

Emilys own parents stood by, but instead of standing up for her, her father simply muttered:

Emily, dont be rude to your mother-in-law. Olivers right; show some respect.

That was the moment Emily understood: she was alone. Everyone was against herher husband, who saw her as a glorified maid, her parents, for whom status meant more than her happiness, and her mother-in-law, who was slowly poisoning her marriage out of spite.

***

The crisis came a week after they got back to London.

The baby was suffering with her stomach again, and Emily hadnt slept in two days.

When her little girl finally slipped into a fitful sleep, Emily sat down on the kitchen floorright on the laminateand closed her eyes.

The front door banged open. Oliver stormed in from work, grumpier than ever.

Why are there bin bags in the hall? he snapped instead of greeting her.

Emily didnt reply. She hadnt the strength to open her mouth.

Im talking to you, he growled, striding into the kitchen and bumping her leg with his foot. Up you getgo put them out. Now.

Do it yourself, she said quietly. I cant. My backs shot. All I want is one hours sleep, Oliver. Please.

Oh, you cant, can you? He grabbed her by the collar of her dressing gown and jerked her to her feet. The fabric ripped.

Look at this, the princess is tired. Others have five children and work on a farm, but youre falling to pieces.

Just then, their daughter awoke and began crying. With a snarl of rage, Oliver stormed off to the bedroom.

Again! That howling again! he shouted, seizing the cot and shaking it. Shut up already!

The baby choked on her cries out of fright.

Emily rushed in, desperate to push him away.

Dont touch her! Get away from her!

Shes ruined my life! He swung around and struck Emily across the face.

She crashed against the wall, bumping her head on the wardrobe.

Her vision blurred. But the worst of it was, Oliver wasnt finished.

He approached the cot again and, with deliberate malice, pinched the babys tiny leg.

She let out a cry unlike any Emily had ever heard.

Something snapped within her. All her self-pity, exhaustion, indifference towards her childit vanished in an instant.

All that remained was fury.

Emily seized a heavy porcelain figurine from the windowsilla hideous gift from her mother-in-lawraised it without hesitation.

Once more, she hissed, poised to swing, once more you hurt her, and Ill smash your skull in. Get out.

Oliver was stunned.

Who do you think youre threatening, in my flat?

The flat was bought after we married, Emily spoke slowly, each word deliberate. We paid the mortgage with my maternity pay and your bonuses; you cleared the rest with my parents moneythey helped us. Half of its mine.

But right now, I dont care. Leave. If I call the police, theyll be here in minutesand well have evidence of your abuse.

My face is marked, Oliver. My child will have bruises. You might not do time, but your lifes over. Youll spend the rest of it paying off solicitors.

Emily left the bedroom and rang the police.

***

The fallout lasted ages. Oliver tried to rally his mum and sister; they called, sent vile messages, threatened herbut Emily ignored them, blocked every number.

When her own parents came round to make peace, Emily left them standing on the porch.

Either be on my side, or forget where I live. Your son-in-law laid hands on your newborn granddaughter. If thats normal to you, weve nothing to discuss.

Her father looked sheepish, her mother sobbed, but when they saw the bruise on the babys leg, they fell silent.

Both admitted there could be no justification for such cruelty.

Emily didnt just file for divorce; she showed up resolutely at Olivers workcalm, collected, folder in hand. She didnt cause a scene, just handed the Head of Securityan old acquaintance of her fathersthe footage from the baby monitor camera Oliver himself had insisted on before the birth.

It captured everythingright down to the incident in the nursery.

Oliver was asked to resign quietly. Reputation meant everything in their line of business, and no company wanted a scandal like that.

When the mother-in-law found out her precious son was out of work, she was hospitalised with high blood pressure. Grace, terrified Emily would post the footage online (Emily had plenty of mutual friends with Graces husband), suddenly fell silent and stopped sending messages.

***

Now, Emily lives in peace. Money is tight at times, but she doesnt complain.

Oliver gave up his share of the flat in exchange for reduced child maintenance, and that suited Emily just fine.

Her ex-husbands family pretends her child doesnt exist, and the father himself never visits.

And every woman Oliver meets, he tells, Ive never been married.Emily never minded.

Most mornings, shed sit at the kitchen table in sunlight with her daughter on her laphealthy now, cheeks flushed and brightlistening to the small giggles and babble. She learned, slowly, to delight in the unhurried rituals of making tea, folding tiny laundry, breathing in her childs scent after a bath. No one scolded. No one criticised. Every choice she made was her own.

Sometimes, when she walked past the mirror, shed pause, searching for sorrow or regret. There was fatigue in her eyes, yes, but also a sparksomething fierce and unbreakable that had survived the storm. Shed survived, too, and rebuilt.

One rain-soaked afternoon, she met an old friend for coffee and told her everythinghonestly, bravely, the whole sorrow and the triumph. Her friend squeezed her hand and said, Im proud of you. Emily almost cried, but instead she just smiled and felt the warmth settle deep inside her chest.

The world outside didnt change. Random people still advised her, older women in the park still clucked about hats and socks and feeding. But Emily listened and then did exactly as she pleased. Her daughter, safe in her arms, gazed up and gurgled with happiness. And that was all that ever truly mattered.

Some nights, when the baby slept and the city lights shivered beyond her window, Emily would dream of the girl shed once beendancing, laughing, certain the world belonged to her. She realised now, battered and brave, shed become someone better: a woman who chose herself, who fought for joy, and who kept her daughters world gentle and free.

She didnt need a prince, or a crowds approval, or anyones footsteps to follow. Emily had found her way homeeven if shed had to build every step from scratch. And from that moment on, she vowed, her daughter would never see a woman bow her head, not even oncenot for them, not for anyone.