Ignatius, Hurt by His Mother’s Actions, Chooses to Live Apart from Her

Ignatius, wounded by his mothers behaviour, resolved to live apart from her.

“You dont respect me at all!” The bitter echo of his mothers anger crackled down the telephone line, each word sharp as a blade, stabbing into Daphnes heart.

She exhaled heavily, the weight of the older womans demands pressing down on her. She remembered the moment before her own wedding, when fate itself seemed to twist against her. The grooms mother, a woman of stern principles and unyielding opinions, had caught nothing more than a coldyet she spoke of it as though it were the plague, capable of ruining everything.

The call had come that morning, mere hours before Daphne and her beloved Ignatius were to begin their new life together. Shock gave way to frustrationhow could this happen now? Everything had been arranged: the reception, the guests Her own parents had flown in from Manchester just for this.

Ignatius listened in silence, knowing the storm that awaited. His mother had never been challenged, never contradicted. But now, he would speak his mind.

“Mum, its just a cold. I understand youre worried, but we cant postpone the wedding over something so trivial.”

His voice was firma tone she had never heard from him before. For a moment, the line went silent, as though she had been struck mute by disbelief. Then came a stifled sob, as if she were swallowing furious tears.

“Fine. If neither of you care about my health Then have it your way. But remember thisif anything goes wrong, its on your heads.”

A sharp click. Silence fell, broken only by the nervous drumming of Daphnes fingers against the table.

Ignatiuss mother trembled as she clutched the phone, scrolling through her contacts with practiced ease. Her pulse raced, but her mind was clear: they would not celebrate while she suffered.

“Lydia? Its me. Listen, Im so sorry to call like this, but the weddings postponed. Ive come down with the fluwell have to delay it a few weeks. Yes, of course my son agrees. Hes worried sick about me.”

A pause. Then, a hushed whisper of sympathy.

“Oh, you poor dear! Get well soon, darling!”

She exhaled, relieved. Lying didnt sit right, but what choice did she have?

Next call.

“Natalie? Yes, you heard right. Weve had to push back the wedding. Im dreadfully illthe doctor says I must rest.”

Natalie gasped. “Oh, what rotten luck! God bless you, loveget well soon!”

One by one, the calls continued, each repeating the same lie. Every response was the samepity, concern, understanding.

Only the voice in her own head refused to agree. *This is wrong. Youre hurting him. Hurting yourself.*

She sank onto the sofa, drained. The phone buzzed in her hand, demanding confirmation. Tears spilled silently down her cheeks.

That evening, as guests gathered for the ceremony, only Daphnes closest friends, a handful of Ignatiuss colleagues, and distant relativesthose who rarely spoke to his motherremained. The rest had vanished, heeding her whispered warnings, though no official cancellation had ever been sent.

Daphnes breath caught. A wave of dizziness, then angerhot and sharp. But the celebration carried on. Laughter, music, warmthjoy untouched by the storm outside.

Meanwhile, far from the festivities, his mother sat alone in her empty house, weeping quietly, cursing fate for the humiliation she felt.

*To them, my illness is nothingjust the foolishness of an old woman. Was it so hard to show a little care?*

When the truth surfaced, the family reacted with outrage. Some voiced their disgust openly; others stayed quiet, fearing the fallout.

Ignatius, heartbroken by his mothers actions, made his choice.

Soon, the newlyweds left for a new cityfar from her, far from the wreckage of that day.