My new husband James and I spent Thanksgiving at my parents’ house.
After dessert, I went upstairs to grab some things from my old room. Realizing I needed a box to pack it, I turned back toward the stairs – then stopped cold.
I heard my mom Patricia whispering, “James, once again, thank you for agreeing to marry her.”
What?! My stomach dropped. I crept closer, staying out of sight. Then I heard James reply, casual as ever:
“You know I would have NEVER married her if you hadn’t given me the….”
My stomach twisted. My mom’s voice cut him off, sharp and urgent.
“Shh! James! She might hear us.”
“I’m just saying, the money is nice and all that. But you didn’t need to go that far. The money’s nice, but living with her… It’s not exactly what I signed up for. I have to check on her every single time the house is too quiet. And I have to monitor everything she eats. Do you know how difficult that is?”
“I told you,” my mom whispered, her voice insistent. “She’s fragile. Nobody else would’ve… well, you know. Just be patient, James. It’s not forever. Soon, when she’s doing better at work, you can leave. She needs her confidence up first.”
