James and I tied the knot just over ten years ago, both of us in our midthirties. He was a director at a big firm in London, and I ran a beauty salon. We had two kids, I went on maternity leave and then stopped working altogether. Money never really worried us because James earned a solid salary.
James has always been a careerdriven type, often away on business and spending his spare time with his mum. My motherinlaw, Mrs. Thompson, is a bit of a drama queen she can act out illnesses and tantrums like a seasoned actress, all to keep her sons attention on her.
At a family gathering she once turned to me and said, James belongs to me, and it doesnt matter that youre his wife. To him the family is just me! You should understand, because youre a mother yourself. No matter what, you must always look after your husband!
I never forgot those words. The next morning I asked James to explain what was going on. He tried to brush his mothers behaviour off as a nasty joke, but it didnt sit right with me.
Well, good times never last forever. Last year James was made redundant, and he turned to the bottle to drown his gloom. I went back to the salon to earn a few quid again.
I clung to the hope that hed pull himself together and be the man Id married, but things only went downhill. I filed for divorce and James moved in with my mum.
I felt a weight lift off my shoulders one less mouth to feed. Then, a month later, my motherinlaw rang me up and said, Dont you remember what I always told you? You must always help your partner. My pension isnt enough, so I expect you to send money every month to support James!
I was taken aback by the boldness. I told her Id be applying for child support, because its the fathers duty to provide for the kids. She shot back that I was the one whod driven her son into this mess.
Her words left me uneasy, and I hung up. The odd thing is, I still love my exhusband, but I have no idea how Im supposed to live with him now.
