Chapter 2 - Six Days of Rules
I rode in the ambulance with Elena.
Leo came with us.
My mother did not.
I made sure of that.
At the hospital, a nurse took Leo long enough for me to stay beside Elena while doctors examined her.
Severe dehydration.
Extreme exhaustion.
Low blood sugar.
Her blood pressure had dropped dangerously low.
The doctor looked at me with the kind of expression that makes a husband feel six inches tall.
“How long has she been like this?”
“I don't know.”
“You live together?”
“Yes.”
“I was traveling.”
“How long?”
“Six days.”
He nodded slowly.
“She needs rest, nutrition, fluids, and monitoring.”
“Is she going to be okay?”
“I believe so.”
I finally breathed.
Then his expression remained serious.
“But I need to ask something.”
“Anything.”
“Was somebody preventing your wife from eating or sleeping?”
I looked at Elena.
She turned her face away.
“Elena.”
Her eyes closed.
“Please.”
“Please what?”
“Don't make me talk about it tonight.”
I sat beside her.
“I won't force you.”
Her shoulders relaxed.
“But Margaret isn't coming back into our house.”
Elena opened her eyes.
For a moment, she simply stared at me.
Then tears rolled down her cheeks.
Not dramatic tears.
Silent ones.
The kind that made me feel worse.
“I tried to tell you.”
My chest tightened.
“When?”
“Tuesday.”
I remembered Tuesday.
I had been leaving a client dinner.
Elena called.
Leo was crying in the background.
Margaret had answered Elena's phone halfway through our conversation.
She laughed and told me Elena was overwhelmed.
I believed her.
That realization made me sick.
“What happened Tuesday?”
Elena stared at the ceiling.
“Your mother came Monday morning.”
“I know.”
“She said she wanted to help.”
I nodded.
That had been the plan.
Margaret had offered to stay with Elena while I traveled.
I thought I was lucky.
I thought my wife would have support.
Instead, I had invited the problem through the front door.
“She started making rules.”
“What rules?”
Elena hesitated.
“Leo could only be held during feeding.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“She said I was spoiling him.”
“He's three weeks old.”
“I know.”
“What else?”
“She said daytime naps were making me lazy.”
My hands curled into fists.
“She wouldn't let you sleep?”
“She always found something that needed doing.”
Laundry.
Vacuuming.
Bathrooms.
Kitchen cabinets.
Guest bedrooms.
Every meal for the relatives Margaret kept inviting over.
It got worse each day.
Whenever Elena sat down, Margaret found another chore.
Whenever Leo cried, Margaret criticized how she held him.
Whenever Elena tried to eat, Margaret reminded her that she needed to “get her body back.”
By Thursday, Elena was hiding crackers in the nursery.
By Friday, Margaret found them.
“She threw them away?”
Elena nodded.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I tried.”
That answer hurt more the second time.
“She kept saying you'd think I was weak.”
“I would never—”
“I know that now.”
Now.
One word.
One brutal word.
Because when Elena needed me, she hadn't been sure.
I lowered my head.
“I'm sorry.”
She reached for my hand.
“You didn't do this.”
“No.”
I looked at her.
“But I brought her into our house.”
My phone buzzed.
Daniel.
I ignored it.
It buzzed again.
Then a text appeared.
You need to come home before Mom does something stupid.
I stood.
Elena immediately looked frightened.
“Don't leave.”
That stopped me.
I sat back down.
“I won't.”
I texted Daniel instead.
What is she doing?
His response came immediately.
Cleaning the kitchen.
I stared at those words.
Then I remembered Elena in the ambulance.
The trash.
The food.
Evidence.
May you like
My mother wasn't cleaning.
She was destroying something.
