I turned on my heel, signaled to my bridesmaids, and walked out of the reception.
Behind me, I heard chairs shuffle, whispers grow louder, and the faint clinking of glasses. The crowd was beginning to disperse, leaving Patricia and Ethan in the awkward spotlight.
By the time we reached the limo, my bridesmaids and I were laughing so hard, we could barely breathe.
We popped champagne and toasted to freedom. They understood why I did what I did, and why I would soon be filing for annulment from Ethan.
Sarah and I were six years into the most solid, unshakeable love.
Our wedding was the culmination of that, a celebration of all we’d built together.
Just when I thought the day couldn’t get any better, Sarah’s mother stood to toast us.
“To my darling daughter and her new husband,” Janice said, holding up her glass. “May your life together be as strong and secure as the foundation you build upon, starting with this.”
A waiter wheeled over a silver tray bearing a sleek folder.
Janice opened it with a flourish, revealing the deed to a house.
My heart swelled. A house! I turned to Sarah, expecting her to share my excitement, but her hand on mine felt stiff and clammy.
Her smile didn’t quite meet her eyes.
This should have been a clue, but I chalked it up to wedding-day jitters.
That was my first mistake.
I almost cried when we moved in. This wasn’t any old house but a five-bedroom colonial in an upmarket neighborhood ideal for families. I didn’t have much growing up, and it felt like I was now living the dream.
Sarah, however, wandered from room to room like she was looking for something she’d lost.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” I asked one evening after dinner.
“Don’t you like it here?”
She sighed, avoiding my eyes. “It’s just… a big adjustment.
Newly married, starting our lives together in this house…”
Adjustments I could handle. But her distance?
That gnawed at me.
The first crack came during a dinner at Janice’s a few days after we moved in.
The three of us sat around her pristine dining table.
“So, have you spoken to my lawyer, yet?” Janice asked, her voice honeyed but sharp, “I’d like you both to sign the contract as soon as possible.”
“Contract?” I set my fork down.
Janice tilted her head. “Oh, I assumed Sarah would’ve told you by now.”
Across from me, Sarah’s knuckles whitened against the stem of her wine glass. Her shoulders tensed, and she stared at the table like it might swallow her whole.
“Mom,” she started.
But Janice held up a hand, a soft laugh spilling from her lips.
“Sarah was probably waiting for the right time.
It’s about the contract for the house, Jeremy. I may as well explain the terms now, I suppose.”
I didn’t trust myself to speak.
“See, you don’t actually own the house, I do, and there are certain terms you need to accept so you can stay. For instance, no painting of the walls.
You’ll also need to work close by, so you stay within 15 miles of me.
After all, it’s important to have family nearby.”
My pulse quickened. “What happens if we don’t follow these ‘guidelines’?”
Janice gave an airy wave of her hand. “Well, I could always revoke your right to live there.
But that won’t happen as long as we’re all on the same page.”
Her eyes sparkled with something darker.
“The agreement also gives me co-parenting rights over my grandchildren. Oh!
And I want my first grandchild within the next two years.”
She might as well have slapped me.
I stared at Sarah, silently begging for some kind of reaction.
But she wouldn’t meet my eyes.
Her silence was the loudest answer of all.
When we got home, I couldn’t hold back. “What the hell was that?”
Sarah hesitated. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” I demanded.
“That your mother thinks she can control every part of our lives?”
Tears brimmed in her eyes.
“I thought I could manage it. I thought if I just went along with it, things would be easier.”
“For who?
For her?” My voice softened as I stepped closer. “What about us, Sarah?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice so small it barely reached me.
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
Her words stung because they were laced with truth.
I didn’t know what to do either.
We’d only been living there for a week when I reached my breaking point. One night, as I headed to bed, I overheard Sarah on the phone with Janice.
“Yes, I understand,” she said quietly.
“No, I’ll convince him not to take the promotion.
Like you said, the new office is outside the 15-mile limit.”
My blood ran cold. The promotion I’d been working toward, and my wife intended to sabotage it to comply with my controlling MIL’s whims.
“Sarah.” My voice was hard as I stepped into the room. She spun around, her face pale.
“I-I was going to tell you,” she stammered.
“She just wants what’s best for us.”
“Us?” I scoffed.
“No, Sarah, she wants what’s best for her. And you’re letting her. This has to stop.”
She shook her head.
“You don’t understand.
If we don’t do this her way, she’ll take everything.”
“Then let her,” I snapped. “I’m not playing this game anymore.
It’s me or her, Sarah. Either we return the house and shake off the leash your mom’s trying to put on us, or I leave.
Make a choice.”
The silence that followed was unbearable.
“Maybe you should leave,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“Maybe… you’re better off without me.”
Packing that night was a blur. Anger, heartbreak, and confusion swirled in a relentless loop.
Then I saw Sarah’s diary.
It sat open on the edge of the nightstand. I hadn’t meant to look, but the hurried script caught my eye.
Sarah’s diary detailed how Janice had manipulated the courts to gain custody of Sarah, even though she’d begged to stay with her father.
Sarah was only eight years old at the time.
Once she had custody, Janice treated her terribly.
The situations Sarah described sounded like the plot of a psychological thriller.
But the most chilling part came near the end. Sarah wrote about Janice’s veiled threats to repeat history.
If Sarah ever crossed her, Janice had made it clear she had the power to take our future children, just as she’d taken Sarah from her father.
My hands shook as I put the diary down, my heart breaking.
Sarah wasn’t weak; she was terrified.
Behind me, the bedroom door creaked.
I turned to see Sarah standing there, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear as she noticed what I was holding.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice trembling.
She sank to the floor, sobbing.
“Because she’ll destroy everything, Jeremy.”
“No,” I said firmly, crouching to meet her eyes. “She won’t.
Not this time.
We’re leaving, Sarah. Together.”
The confrontation with Janice was everything I expected.
When I called to tell her we were returning the house, her voice dripped with venom.
“You ungrateful little boy,” she hissed.
“You think you can escape me?”
“I know I can,” I said.
“You don’t own us, Janice. Not anymore.”
A year later, I stood on the balcony of our tiny apartment, watching Sarah water the potted plants she’d insisted we bring.
There was a lightness to her now, a freedom I hadn’t seen in years.
Therapy was helping her unpack the weight of her mother’s influence, and though the scars remained, they were healing.
“We did it,” she said softly, sliding her hand into mine.
I nodded, pulling her close. “Yeah.
We did.”
The moment I told Josh I wanted a home birth, his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.
But it was nothing compared to the reaction we got from his mother, Elizabeth.
“Oh, Nancy! This is wonderful news!” Elizabeth gushed, clasping her hands together.
“I simply must be there to support you both.
I can help with anything you need!”
I exchanged a glance with Josh, my eyebrows raised. His shrug told me he was leaving this one up to me.
I bit my lip, mulling it over.
Maybe an extra pair of hands wouldn’t be so bad, right?
“Alright,” I finally conceded. “You can be there.”
The big day finally arrived.
Our midwife, Rosie, was setting up her equipment when Elizabeth burst through the door, her arms laden with bags.
“I’m here!” she announced, as if we might have missed her entrance.
“Where do you need me?”
I was about to answer when a contraction hit, stealing my breath. Josh was at my side in an instant, his hand on my lower back as I tensed and groaned.
“Just… just put your things down for now,” I managed to
