I remember that cold night in London when Eleanor whispered, I want a divorce, and turned her gaze away from her husbands eyes.
Thomass face went ashen in an instant, a silent question hanging between them.
Ill leave you to the woman you truly love, Eleanor said, realising that the most important woman in his life had always been his mother. Im tired of being the second choice.
A tightness clenched her throat and tears welled in her eyes. Years of disappointment and pain spilled out, suffocating her from within.
What are you talking about? Another woman? Thomas asked, startled, staring at his wife in disbelief.
Weve talked about this so often. Since we married, your mother has been draining us financially, emotionally, and timewise, and you accept it because her broth is richer and her scones are fluffier. I cant bear it any longer, Eleanor burst out.
The tears rolled down her flushed cheeks as she mourned the bright future she had once envisioned. A promising fiancé, a respectable career, a life in central Londoneach had turned into a struggle for her own happiness.
Five years earlier Eleanor had timidly stepped into the grand sittingroom of their flat. The furniture, the crockery, the decorationsall seemed expensive and fragile to a girl who had spent most of her youth in shared houses and, most recently, in a university hall.
How did I ever get so lucky to find a man with his own flat? she had joked, laying her hands on Thomass shoulders.
Just wait until I scatter my socks everywhere, then tell me how impressed you are, he had teased.
Their romance had blossomed quickly, demanding a sequel of its own. At the time Eleanor was finishing her final year in journalism at the University of Oxford, while Thomas, five years her senior, worked as a sales manager with a solid income.
A year after moving in, they were married.
Soon we can turn the spare room into a nursery, Eleanor had whispered once, hugging Thomas and hinting that she was ready for children.
But a month later an unexpected addition appeared: Thomass mother, Mrs. Beaumont, stood on the doorstep with two suitcases. In her eyes she had a flawless relationship with her son, at least from her perspective.
Her upbringing, forged by a perpetual sense of guilt and the demands of a lone fighter, had produced a man who felt indebted to her. She was proud that her son had achieved so much and believed it was all thanks to her.
Every payday Thomas paid off debts for the flat, the car, and his childhood. Eleanor watched from a distance, never wanting to disturb her husbands relationship, and only occasionally broached the subject gently.
Where did you invest the proceeds from the house sale? she asked while pouring tea, careful to choose her words. Mrs. Beaumont hailed from a small village near Leicester, where she had inherited a modest cottage with a garden.
Each year Thomas offered to help find a city flat, but his mother refused to move. Suddenly she sold her cottagequickly, but for a modest sum.
Part of it for my future holidays, part for my new venture, she explained.
Despite the hardships of her youth, Mrs. Beaumont remained ambitious, active, and exceedingly domineering. Dealing with such a person required caution, for she was known to bite the hand that offered a fingertip.
She had recently discovered an online cosmetics firm. A condition for further collaboration was a substantial monthly purchase of products. It was this profit into which she poured the money from the cottage sale.
Ive decided it wont be a problem to stay here, she declared, stirring honey into her tea.
Of course, we love having guests! Eleanor replied, hoping the arrangement would be temporary. Ill ask my friendshes an estate agentto find you a better place in a pleasant district.
No need. Two flats are too many. Well save here; its no trouble, Mrs. Beaumont retorted, casting herself as a victim of circumstance.
Eleanor gazed expectantly at Thomas. She bore no personal grudge against his mother, but sharing the household indefinitely was untenable. Thomas merely shrugged. Whatever suits you, he said.
He always backed his mothers ideas, no matter how questionable, believing he had no right to oppose her wishes. And there were plenty of them: macramé, candle making, soap crafting, diary compiling, photoalbum assembling.
Mrs. Beaumont tried to strike gold in Thomas, financing all the equipment and materials, providing money for a comfortable life. Since Thomas became a manager, his mother had not worked a single day.
His childlike conviction to thank his mother for his life and upbringing literally suppressed his own will, manifesting in disproportionate financial aid and blind agreement to everything she said or did. It was astonishing how an adult, independent man could be so swayed, reacting to every manipulation as if he were still a child.
In the end, the spare room never became a nursery, and three years passed with little change. Eleanor now worked for a publishing house, her articles appearing in the Family and Relationships section, analysing situations from a psychological angle. Yet she could not bring clarity to her own home.
Her opinions were ignored, she lingered in the background while Mrs. Beaumont wielded the family scepter. Eleanor understood the dilemmaa single child of a single mother marrying a man whose mother would consume all his time and moneyyet only complete focus on herself could have broken the cycle.
Mrs. Beaumonts sense of superiority, believing Thomas owed her, only deepened the problem. Only Thomas could have recognised the truth, but he remained blind.
The flats atmosphere had been replaced by the cosmetics companys bottles and jars, a sight Eleanor could no longer bear. The business yielded no profit, and Eleanor saw it for what it was: a futile pastime for her husband and an idle pursuit for his mother.
She had raised the issue repeatedly, only to hear, Mum knows what shes doing, from Thomas, and Patience, dear. A tree does not grow overnight, from Mrs. Beaumont. Yet three years later the tree still showed no signs of growth, while expenses kept climbing.
When Mrs. Beaumont suggested that Eleanor should also invest in the family business, the thought of drastic measures finally entered Eleanors mind.
The final straw came on the eve of New Years 2023, when the couple finally managed a night out alone. After skating at a rink, they retired to a small café, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with love.
Thomas, are you happy? Eleanor asked.
Of course, he replied, taking her hand. How could I be, with you by my side?
I want a child, she whispered, leaning closer.
Right now? Thomas smiled, kissing her hand.
That night they agreed it was time to bring a miracle into the world. Yet within twentyfour hours Mrs. Beaumont stormed into their bedroom as Eleanor returned from work.
You cannot have a child now! she shouted.
Shocked by his mothers audacity, Eleanor did not react immediately.
Thomas hasnt finished paying off the mortgage, the car loans are still there, she retorted, finally confronting the woman. Shes just afraid hell stop feeding her endless whims.
I have always only wanted the best for my son, even when I asked for a little help. He is the only one I can count on; Ive fed, clothed, and raised him into a decent, selfsufficient man, Mrs. Beaumont huffed.
You owe him nothing for that. Stop lecturing everyone. You chose to have a child of your own, not for his sake. You may hope for his assistance out of love, not duty, Eleanor replied.
Mrs. Beaumont seemed to understand but clung to her comfortable situation, declaring after a brief silence, Thomas will see that I am right.
Eleanor feared this might be true, for her husband leaned heavily on his mothers opinion.
No obstacle could stop Eleanors wish to bear a child, but Mrs. Beaumont proved a formidable barrier, leaving Eleanor disappointed yet still hoping for Thomass reason.
Later that evening it became clear Thomas was hopelessly lost, even to himself. Yesterday he had enthusiastically entertained the idea of a baby; today he argued, Perhaps its not yet time; why rush? Were not ready, we cant provide whats needed. Eleanor knew it could not continue.
I want a divorce, she declared, the decisive words that would end the stalemate. Her family life had reached a dead end.
Thomass face turned ghostly.
Ill give you to the woman you truly love. I will not remain a second string, he said.
The hurt was too great to ignore. How many times had Eleanor tried to speak since the mother moved in, only to be met with silence? Their conversations never broke through. Tears welled anew.
What are you talking about? Another woman? Thomas asked, bewildered.
Since we wed you keep saying, Mum, Mum Her soup is sourer, her scones fluffier. She runs our finances. I cannot endure it any longer, Eleanor cried.
Thomas tried to grasp how they arrived here, wondering when he had lost control, if he ever had any. When Eleanor fell silent, he sat beside her on the bed, looking at her tearstreaked face.
Is it really just about Mum living with us? he asked.
How can you not see? She has taken you completely. You are no longer yours. Without my salary wed be scraping. She forbids me from becoming pregnant, fearing the loss of her generous income stream. Your mother is a good woman, but she must respect limits she now oversteps, and you erase those limits with blind acquiescence. You both suffer, as will any child we might have. Your debts are long paid, Thomas; live for yourself, not for your mother.
The conversation was uncomfortable for both, but Thomas asked for a chance, promising to sort his relationship with his mother and place their future together above all else.
The first steps were hard: refusing the large monthly sums his mother demanded for her empty venture, then suggesting she should no longer live with them. A month later Eleanor chose wallpaper for the nursery. With her motherinlaw she got along better than while sharing a roof; sometimes Mrs. Beaumont stopped by, but the change in her sons behaviour was painful for the older woman, who eventually yielded, recognising she could no longer lean on Thomas for everything.
Without his support she could not continue purchasing from the cosmetics firm and was more or less forced out. All this led her to seek ordinary employment and learn to rely on herself.
A year after that, they welcomed a child, and Mrs. Beaumont, now with a modest job, gladly helped Thomas and Eleanor. The whole family spent many happy moments together, and at last, they were all content.
