You cant tell me what to do! Youre nothing to me!
Dylan slammed his plate into the sink, making water splatter across the worktops. For a moment, Alice didnt breathe. The boy, fifteen, glared at her with such venom it was as if shed personally ruined his life.
I only asked you to help with the dishes, Alice replied, forcing her voice steady. Its a normal request.
My mum never made me do the washing up! Im not a girl! Who even are you to give orders?
Dylan spun round and stormed out of the kitchen. Moments later, pounding music blared from his bedroom.
Alice slumped against the fridge and closed her eyes.
A year ago, it had all seemed so different…
James came into her life by mere chance. He worked as an engineer in the neighbouring department of a major construction firm, and they often bumped into each other during meetings. First, lunches stretched into long chats over coffee, then dinner dates after work and soon, late-night conversations over the phone.
Ive got a son, James admitted on their third date, twisting a napkin between his fingers. Dylans fifteen. His mum and I divorced two years ago and well, its been rough on him.
I understand, Alice covered his hand with hers. Divorce is always hard on kids. Its only natural.
Are you sure you could take on both of us?
At the time, Alice truly believed she could. Thirty-two, divorced without children herself, she longed for a real family. James appeared to be exactly the kind of man she could build something lasting with.
Six months later, James proposed, awkwardly, blushing as he tucked a ring box into her favourite box of shortbread biscuits. Alice burst out laughing and accepted at once.
The wedding was modest: both sets of parents, a handful of close friends, and a cosy pub down the road. Dylan spent the evening glued to his phone, never glancing towards the happy couple.
Hell come round, James murmured when Alices smile slipped. Just give him time.
Alice moved into Jamess airy three-bedroom flat the day after the wedding. The place was lovely bright, spacious, with a generous kitchen and a little balcony over-looking the communal garden. But from the moment she stepped inside, Alice felt like a visitor in someone elses home…
Dylan treated her as if she were invisible a fixture of furniture, to be ignored, unseen. Hed plug in his headphones as soon as she entered the room. Any questions were answered in monosyllables, eyes averted.
At first, Alice put it down to adjustment. The boy needed time. It was difficult for him to accept his dad had remarried. Things would settle.
They didnt.
Dylan, love, could you not eat in your bedroom? Well have mice otherwise.
My dad never minded.
Dylan, have you done your homework?
None of your business.
Dylan, please clear your plate.
Do it yourself. Youve got nothing better to do.
Alice tried talking to James. She was careful, afraid of sounding like the wicked stepmother from a fairy tale.
Maybe we should set out some house rules? she said one night, after Dylan had retreated to his room. No eating in the bedrooms, tidy up after yourself, do homework by a certain time
Alice, hes having a tough time as it is. James pinched the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. A divorce, now someone new in the house Lets not push him.
Im not pushing, I just want some order in the flat.
Hes still a child.
Hes fifteen, James. At that age, he can manage washing a mug.
But James only sighed and clicked on the telly, signalling discussion over.
Each day grew tenser. When she asked Dylan to take out the rubbish, he looked at her with open contempt.
Youre not my mum. You never will be. Youve no right to boss me about.
Im not bossing, just asking for help in the home we all share.
This isnt your home. Its my dads. And mine.
Again, Alice turned to James. He listened, nodded, promised hed have a word. But nothing changed or if he did speak to Dylan, Alice never knew.
Dylan began creeping in after midnight. No texts, no calls. Alice lay awake, straining for the sound of a key in the lock. James, beside her, snored on, untroubled.
Could you at least ask him to let us know where he is? Alice pleaded over breakfast. Anything could happen.
Hes old enough. I was out till all hours at his age too.
But cant you talk to him? Explain we worry?
James only shrugged and headed off to work…
Every attempt to draw a boundary ended in a shouting match. Dylan raged, slammed doors, accused Alice of tearing their family apart. Every time, James backed his son.
Hes struggling after the divorce, James chanted like a refrain. You have to be understanding.
And Im not struggling? Im living in a home where Im openly despised and my husband acts like its all fine!
Dont be so dramatic.
Dramatic?! Your son told me Im a nobody. Word for word.
Hes a teenager. Theyre all like that.
In desperation, Alice rang her mum, who always found the right words.
Darling, her mothers voice trembled, You sound so unhappy. I can hear it in every word.
Mum, I dont know what to do. James wont even admit theres a problem.
Thats because, for him, there isnt one. Everything suits him just fine. Youre the only one suffering.
After a pause, she added softly, You deserve better, Alice. Remember that.
With impunity established, Dylans behaviour spiralled. Music blasted until three in the morning. Dirty plates cropped up everywhere living room table, bedroom sill, even the bathroom. Socks littered the hall, textbooks sprawled across the kitchen counter.
Alice tidied up she couldnt bear the mess. And she wept as she did, feeling utterly powerless.
Dylan stopped greeting her altogether. She only existed to him when he needed to sneer.
You havent found a way in with this kid, James declared suddenly one evening. Maybe youre the problem?
A way in? Alice gave a bitter, disbelieving laugh. Ive been trying for half a year. He calls me her, even when youre standing right there.
Youre overreacting.
One last effort to reach out cost Alice an entire day. She found an online recipe for Dylans favourite roast chicken with honey glaze and proper chunky chips. She bought the finest ingredients, spent four hours in the kitchen.
Dylan, dinners ready! she called, setting the meal on the table.
The boy ambled in, glanced at his plate, wrinkled his nose.
Im not eating that.
Why?
Because you made it.
He turned and left. Seconds later, the front door slammed; hed gone off to his mates.
James came home, saw the untouched dinner, and a crumpled Alice.
What happened?
Alice told him. James sighed.
Oh, Alice Dont take it to heart. He doesnt mean any harm.
No harm? I get humiliated deliberately. Every single day!
Youre too sensitive.
A week later, Dylan invited half his class round. She came into the kitchen late that evening to find every surface covered in the remains of late-night snacking.
Out. Now! Alice marched into the living room, where the boys sprawled. Its nearly eleven!
Dylan didnt even turn his head.
This is my house. I can do what I want.
This is our home. There are rules.
What rules? one friend sniggered. Hey, Dylan who even is she?
No one. Dont bother.
Shaken to her core, Alice retreated to the bedroom and dialled James. He arrived an hour later, once the lads had gone, surveying the mess and his exhausted wife.
Alice, honestly, you need to calm down. It was only a few mates, its no big deal.
No big deal?!
Youre blowing this out of proportion. Actually Jamess brow darkened, are you trying to turn me against my own son?
Alice stared at her husband, barely recognising him.
James, we need to talk. Properly. About us, about our future.
James stiffened, but sat opposite her.
I cant go on like this, Alice spoke slowly, weighing every word. For six months Ive endured disrespect. Dylan is openly rude; you ignore my feelings completely.
Alice, I
Let me finish. Ive tried everything to become part of your family. But theres no family here. Theres you, your son, and me an outsider, tolerated only because I cook and clean.
Thats not fair.
Not fair? When did your son last say anything kind to me? When did you last stand up for me?
James was silent.
I love you, he said at last, quietly. But Dylan is my son. Hes what matters most.
More than I do?
More than anything else.
Alice nodded, hollow and cold inside.
Thank you for being honest.
The final straw came two days later. Alice found her favourite blouse a birthday present from her mum cut to ribbons on her pillow. She knew without asking whod done it.
Dylan! Alice marched in, scraps of fabric in hand. Whats this about?
The teen shrugged, eyes fixed on his phone.
No idea.
It was mine!
So?
James! Alice rang her husband. Come home. Now, please.
James arrived, took in the ruined blouse, his wife, and his son.
Dylan, did you do this?
No.
See? James threw up his hands. He says he didnt do it.
Well who then? The cat? We dont have one!
Maybe it was an accident
James!
Alice stared at him. Useless. Hed never change. Hed never take her side. To him, only one person mattered his son. She she was a useful extra in the background.
Dylans still hurting without his mum, James said for the hundredth time. You have to understand.
I do understand, Alice replied, voice calm as iron. I understand everything.
That evening, she fetched her suitcase.
What are you doing? James froze in the doorway.
Packing. Im leaving.
Alice, wait! Cant we talk?
Weve been talking for half a year. Nothing changes. Alice folded her dresses. I have a right to happiness too, James.
Ill change! Ill have a word with Dylan!
Its too late.
She looked at her husband a grown man whod never learnt to be a husband, only a father, and a father whod spoiled his child with blind devotion.
Ill file for divorce next week, Alice said, zipping up her suitcase.
Alice!
Goodbye, James.
She left the flat for the last time, not glancing back. From the hallway, she caught sight of Dylans face for once, stripped of contempt, confused, maybe even scared. She no longer cared.
Her new flat was tiny but warm a one-bedroom in a quiet estate, with windows overlooking leafy trees. Alice unpacked, made herself a cup of tea, and sat on the windowsill. For the first time in six months, she felt at peace.
…The divorce was finalised in two months. James rang a few times, asking for another chance. Alice always replied with calm certainty: no.
She didnt break. She carried no bitterness. Shed come to realise that happiness wasnt sacrifice or endless endurance. Happiness was being respected, being valued. And one day, she would find it.
Just not with this man.
