“I was trying to help!”
“You stole from my child!” Mike’s voice cracked into a shout. “From my son or daughter! You stole the money my wife was saving for our baby!”
“But I’ll give it back!”
“When? In a year? Two years? And what is Susan supposed to use to buy a stroller, a crib, clothes?”
Eleanor was crying, sobbing, but she wouldn’t let go of the purse. Susan looked at her and felt no sympathy, only pity. Her mother-in-law didn’t think she was guilty. To her, this was still “helping.”
“Leave,” Susan said quietly. “Get out of my house. For good.”
“Susan, honey, I’m not a stranger to you…”
“Leave. And leave the money.”
“I won’t!”
Susan stepped forward and snatched the purse from her mother-in-law’s hands. Eleanor shrieked and tried to grab it back, but Susan pushed her away sharply. Her mother-in-law stumbled, nearly falling.
“You hit me! Mike, she hit me!”
“I didn’t hit you. I just took what was mine.” Susan opened the purse and took out the box. She opened it. The money was there. “Now leave, before I call the police for theft.”
“What theft? I’m his mother! I’m family!”
“You’re a thief.”
Eleanor froze. Her face went white, then blotchy red. She looked at Susan with hatred, with fury, but she was powerless. She turned and walked to the exit. At the door, she turned back and pointed a finger at Susan.
“You’ll regret this! You’ll regret treating me this way. I’ll make sure Mike divorces you, that you give me my grandchild!”
“Try it.”
Her mother-in-law slammed the door so hard the windows rattled. Susan was left standing in the middle of the hallway, clutching the box. Silence. Only the heavy breathing of Mike, still sitting on the floor. He slowly got up and walked over to Susan. He looked at the box in her hands, then at her face.
“I’m sorry,” he forced out. “God, I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot.”
Susan was silent. Mike dropped to his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms around her legs.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t think. Mom said… and I believed her. I would have… I thought…”
“You thought I was stealing from our family. Or cheating.”
“No. Well… I don’t know. I was confused. Mom was so convincing.”
“You broke down the door…” Susan looked at the broken bedroom door, hanging by one hinge. “You burst into your pregnant wife’s bedroom in the middle of the night and demanded an explanation. You brought your mother with you to confirm your suspicions.”
“I know. I… It’s unforgivable.”
“You’re right. It is.”
Mike looked up. There were tears in his eyes, real ones, not theatrical.
“What can I do? How can I fix this? Tell me, I’ll do anything.”
Susan looked at him, at his tear-streaked face, at the desperation in his eyes, and felt nothing. Not pity, not anger. Just emptiness.
“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I don’t know if this can be fixed.”
She walked around him, went into the bedroom, and placed the box on the bed next to the onesies and the ultrasound picture. She sat down, exhausted, and ran a hand over her face. Mike stood in the doorway, hesitant to enter.
“Can I stay here with you?”
“No. Go to your mother’s or sleep on the sofa, I don’t care.”
“Sue, please…”
“Go away, Mike. I’m tired. I need to be alone.”
He stood there a moment longer, then nodded. He turned and left. Susan heard him walk into the living room and collapse onto the sofa. Then silence. She lay down on the bed without changing. She curled into a ball, wrapping her arms around her stomach. There were no tears. Just a cold, heavy weight in her chest. She had protected her child. She had gotten the money back, banished her mother-in-law. But it didn’t feel like a victory. It felt more like a defeat, because now everything had changed. A chasm had opened up between her and Mike, and she didn’t know if it could ever be crossed. Susan closed her eyes and held her hand to her stomach a little tighter.
“I did everything I could,” she whispered into the darkness. “I’m sorry.”
The morning arrived gray and dreary, with a wet snow falling outside. Susan woke up to a familiar wave of morning sickness. She got up, stumbled to the bathroom, and splashed cold water on her face. She looked at herself in the mirror: a pale face, dark circles under her eyes, tangled hair. She ran a hand over her belly. Inside, her baby was living, oblivious to the night’s drama and broken doors.
She left the bathroom and walked down the hall. Mike was on the sofa in the living room. He wasn’t sleeping, just staring at the ceiling. Hearing her footsteps, he turned his head.
“Good morning,” he said hoarsely.
Susan didn’t answer. She went to the kitchen and put the kettle on. She got out some crackers—the only thing she could eat right now without feeling sick. She sat at the table, chewing slowly and sipping warm water.
Mike appeared in the doorway, disheveled, in a wrinkled t-shirt. He sat down across from her, folding his hands on the table.
“Sue, can we talk?”
“Talk.”
He was silent for a moment, choosing his words, then took a deep breath.
“I’ve realized everything. What I did… it’s… there are no words. I burst in on you in the middle of the night, broke down the door, yelled at my pregnant wife, brought my mother who had robbed us, and believed her instead of you. It’s… it’s beyond the pale.”
Susan was silent, watching the kettle.
“I don’t know how to fix it,” Mike continued. “Maybe I can’t. But I want to try. I want you to know: I’m on your side. Now and always. My mother… she crossed a line. I’m going to talk to her. Firmly. She has to understand that this can’t happen again.”
“You’ve talked to her a hundred times.” Susan looked up at him. “Every time, you promised it wouldn’t happen again. And every time, it did.”
“I know. But this is different. Now I see what she’s doing. How she manipulates. How she uses me against you.”
“You see it? Or you want to see it, because you’re ashamed?”
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