“Tommy, dear, don’t mind her,” my mother interrupted quickly, inserting herself between us with a nervous laugh. “You know how young girls are these days, they don’t know the first thing about keeping a proper home. I was just giving her a little guidance. A good wife keeps a clean house for her husband, right? Come out to the living room, let’s leave her to finish up.”
I turned to my mother, the anger inside me burning so hot it felt cold. “Guidance? You call screaming at her and forcing her to scrub floors on her hands and knees ‘guidance’?”
My mother’s face stiffened slightly, her eyes darting around the room. “Well… I might have lost my temper a bit. It’s just… she’s been so stubborn lately. And with you working so hard, I just want everything to be perfect for you.”
“Where is Liam?” I demanded, ignoring her excuses.
“He’s upstairs sleeping, honey,” Sarah whispered, her voice shaking violently.
“Go get him,” I told her softly, trying to modulate my voice so I wouldn’t scare her further. “Pack a bag for you and the baby. We’re leaving.”
Sarah’s eyes widened in shock. She looked at me, then at my mother, torn by fear.
“Leaving?!” my mother shrieked, the polite facade completely slipping away now. “Tommy, you just got home! You can’t leave! This is your home! Are you really going to listen to her? She’s been poisoning your mind with her complaints, hasn’t she? I knew it! She’s been playing the victim ever since you left!”
“She didn’t tell me anything!” I roared, the walls of the kitchen shaking with the force of my voice. “I stood on the porch, Ma! I heard everything you said to her! I saw how you treated her!”
My mother drew back as if she had been slapped. But instead of apologizing, her expression hardened into a cold, ugly sneer.
