"How do I look?" I spoke to my husband while standing in front of the mirror, studying my reflection.
My fingers moved slowly across the fabric of the dress my husband, Jeremy bought for me, gliding over the soft shimmer of the material as though touching it would reassure me that I had done something right. I wanted to feel beautiful. I wanted to believe I could impress my mother-in-law. I wanted to believe that maybe today would be different.
Jeremy stood behind me, his reflection glowing with admiration. His smile stretched widely, almost childish in its excitement. He looked at me as if I was some rare treasure. It was the kind of love that made me melt and ache at the same time.
"Give me a spin. Gosh, my wife is so pretty."
I turned around slowly, the skirt of my dress twirling with me. I forced a smile that felt hopeful yet fragile.
"Do you think your mother will like it? I tried really hard so she would approve." I hated that I needed her approval so desperately, but I couldn't help myself.
Jeremy stepped forward and pulled me into his arms, his warmth wrapping around my insecurity. "Don't worry about my mother. She is very picky and you might get disappointed."
His tone was soft, almost apologetic. He knew how her coldness cut through me every time and how I was constantly vying for her approval.
"I really hope she likes my dress," I whispered, my voice trembling with a hope I shouldn't still be carrying. "I want her praise at least once." Just once. I wanted to feel seen, maybe even accepted.
"To me, you're the best and that's enough," Jeremy said, patting my head affectionately.
But this comfort was short-lived because an hour later, I found myself doing what I always did in this house. I carried a tray of wine glasses across the garden, and approached where my mother-in-law stood. She was poised, graceful, and cold, with Aileen standing right beside her. Aileen's presence was effortless, almost regal in comparison to my nervous fidgeting. My mother-in-law took a glass from my tray without even looking at me while Aileen politely took the last glass with a smile that felt practiced.
Just then, my mother-in-law lifted her wine glass and began her speech. I had to step aside, still holding the empty tray like a prop that reminded everyone exactly where I stood in their hierarchy. While they all clapped and cheered at her speech, I stood with my head bowed. I was uncomfortable. I felt painfully out of place, like a stain on a perfect tablecloth.
One of the servers leaned toward me and whispered, "The cake is ready ma'am."
Before turning away, I glanced at Jeremy. He wasn't happy. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes held a quiet fury. Seeing me serve and run errands at his mother's party embarrassed him.
But this was my attempt to do something right. The cake was my effort, my dedication, my hope wrapped in icing and perfection. I held it carefully and walked toward my mother-in-law with my heart pounding against my ribs.
She was seated with a wine glass in her hand, surrounded by guests praising the décor and ambience. Everyone gasped admiringly when they saw the cake. It truly was beautiful, and for a brief second I felt pride rise inside me. Maybe this would be the moment she finally saw me. Maybe this would be the moment she softened, even a little.
I took a deep breath. "Happy birthday, mother!" I said, stepping forward to present the cake.
But just then, something tugged sharply behind me. Aileen's foot pressed deliberately on the tail of my dress. No one saw it happen.
My body jerked forward. The tray in my hands tilted, and before I could stop it, the entire cake flew out of my grip. It plattered violently across my mother-in-law's dress, splashing icing and cream everywhere.
****
I stood in my mother-in-law's study, feeling as though the walls were closing in around me. My palms were damp, my throat tight, and every part of me trembled from the humiliation still burning from the party. I had apologized over a hundred times. I apologized until my own voice began to sound unfamiliar to me.
She sat rigidly in her leather chair, her eyes sharp and cold as they followed my every movement. To her, everything I did was intentional, malicious, and calculated. She had already judged me guilty and was merely waiting for me to incriminate myself further.
"Did anything happen in the house while I was away?" she asked.
"Nothing happened," I replied quietly. I tried to keep my voice steady. I truly believed nothing significant had happened.
"Are you sure nothing happened?" she pressed again, leaning forward slightly.
"Yes, nothing happened," I repeated.
Just then, a knock sounded on the door. It creaked open, and Ms. Bang stepped in, dragging a maid behind her. The same maid who had been sent to the hospital after Ava assaulted her. My heart dropped instantly.
"Mother…" I began, but she raised her hand sharply, silencing me as if I were a child caught stealing.
Her attention shifted to Ms. Bang. "Why was this not handled properly? You are the head of housekeeping, yet you allow issues like this to continue?"
Ms. Bang bowed her head deeply. "I am sorry ma'am. It will never happen again."
"Then make sure she understands this for the future," my mother-in-law said.
Before I could react, before I could even step forward, Ms. Bang turned to the maid and began slapping her repeatedly. Each slap echoed in the study. The maid staggered, then fell to her knees, crying and begging for forgiveness, admitting to a mistake she did not commit. I felt my stomach twist, felt shame burn its way up my throat. She was being punished because of me.
My mother-in-law watched the scene with cold indifference before giving her final verdict. "Dispose of her."
Ms. Bang dragged her out of the study, and for a brief moment I locked eyes with the maid. Her expression was filled with fear. I wanted to say something. I wanted to stop it. But my voice refused to come out.
"You should have fired her," my mother-in-law said sharply. "But instead you sent her to the hospital after what she did to Ava. It should not be repeated."
"Yes, but…" I tried to speak, tried to defend myself, tried to explain.
"Do not forget that the maid was punished for your lie as well," she snapped.
"Mother…" I whispered, lost between fear and exhaustion.
"You seem to forget that I never accepted you as my daughter-in-law," she said, each word cold and cutting. My eyes dropped to the floor. I couldn't bear her stare.
"As long as I am alive, you will never become a daughter-in-law of this family."
A small sniff escaped me before I could stop it.
She leaned back, unbothered. "If you think this is unfair or are so desperate to become a member of this family, you will have to take my life."