Anna pulled up a street away from her mother-in-law’s house. The clock read 5:45pm—she’d arrived ear…

Sophie pulled up her car a street away from her mother-in-laws house. The clock barely touched 5:45 she was earlier than planned. Maybe shell appreciate me being on time for once, Sophie thought, smoothing out the creases in her new dress. The giftan antique brooch shed spent months searching out from collectorssat carefully wrapped on the back seat.

As she neared the house, Sophie noticed the ground-floor window was cracked open. From the inside, her mother-in-laws voice floated clearly through the gap:

No, Margaret, can you believe it? She didnt even bother to ask what sort of cake I like! She just ordered one of those fancy modern puddings Our Tom has always loved a classic Victoria sponge, but she there was a huff, doesnt even get it. Seven years married!

Sophie froze on the spot. Her feet felt stuck to the pavement.

Of course Ive told you before shes not right for Tom. Shes always at that surgery of hers, hardly ever home. What sort of housewife is that meant to be? I popped round yesterdaythe washing up wasnt done, dust everywhere And where was she? Off, busy with some complicated procedure, as always!

Something caved in inside Sophie. She slumped against the front gate, her knees trembling. Seven years shed tried to be the perfect daughter-in-law: cooking, cleaning, remembering every birthday, visiting whenever her mother-in-law was poorly. All of it for what?

No, no, Im not saying anything, but is someone like her really what my son needs? He deserves a proper family, real warmth, someone to look after him And shes always at conferences, running night shifts. She doesnt even talk about children! Can you imagine?

Her head was pounding. Numbly, Sophie pulled out her phone and rang her husband.

Tom? Ill be a bit late, love. Yeah, its fine, just bit of a jam on the High Street.

She turned and trudged back to her car. Sitting in the drivers seat, she stared blankly ahead as the words shed just overheard clattered around her brain. Maybe a bit more salt? Back in my day, women were at home Tom works so hard, he needs to be looked after

Her phone buzzeda message from her husband: Mums asking where you are. Everyones already here.

Sophie took a long breath in. A strange smile flickered at her lips. Alright, she thought, if they want the perfect daughter-in-law, Ill give them one.

She started the engine, turning back toward her mother-in-laws house. A plan had settled, clear and sharp.

No more trying to win them over. Tonight, theyd see exactly what kind of proper daughter-in-law theyd been wishing for.

Sophie swept in through the front door, giving the brightest smile she could summon. Mum! My darling! she exclaimed, wrapping her mother-in-law in an overly keen hug. Sorry Im late, but I hunted down three whole shops to find the exact candles you adore!

Her mother-in-law stiffened, clearly taken aback. I thought she began, but Sophie pressed on, undeterred:

Oh, and youll never guessI saw your friend Margaret on the way. Such a charming woman, always speaking her mind, isnt she? Sophie shot her mother-in-law a meaningful glance, watching her face blanch.

All through dinner, Sophie put on a show worthy of an Oscar. She served her mother-in-law the best bits, gushed about every tale, and pecked her brain endlessly for housekeeping tips.

Mum, do you think you should boil stew for five hours, or would six be safer? And carpets, are they best beaten in the morning or late evening? Perhaps I should give up my job, hm? After all, Tom needs a real family around him, doesnt he?

Tom stared at Sophie, baffled, the rest of the family sneaking glances across the table. But Sophie kept on

I was thinkingI could do a course in home management, you know? Maybe put aside all this silly surgery After all, a womans place is to keep house, right, Mum?

Her mother-in-law tapped nervously at her plate with her fork, confidence draining away minute by minute.

And what happened next? Well, some stories are best savoured right through to the last crumbAt last, Sophie set down her fork, folded her napkin slowly, and fixed her mother-in-law with a level gaze. The room buzzed with awkward silences and shifting cutlery.

Mum, Sophie said, her voice calm but clear, I know you only want the very best for Tom. But I love himnot as a housemaid, or a memory of how things werebut as myself. I try every day to build a life for us thats real and true, and Id hoped you could be a part of it. Im proud of what I do. Im proud to stand beside your son, and I hope one day you might be proud of me, too.

For a breathless moment, no one moved. Then Tom quietly reached for Sophies hand. He squeezed it tightly, meeting her eyes with a soft smile. Around the table, tension unraveledslowly, awkwardly, but unmistakablyfrom the familys shoulders.

And across from her, her mother-in-laws face flushed pink. She looked down at her plate, then back up. Maybe, she said, her voice small with something almost like wonder, Ive had it wrong. Maybe we could all do with something a little different.

Sophies smile, at last, was honest. She lifted her teacup, and the others followed, piecing warmth from the edges of old traditions. The room filledhesitantly, then fullywith laughter, and the clinking of glasses, and the relief of masks set gently aside.

Outside, candles flickered in the dusk. Inside, Sophie realized she no longer needed to be anyone but herself. And, as hearts softened and plates emptied, it was more than enough.