UNINVITED

Chapter 12

I hesitated, my eyes fixed on the screen. Something told me not to answer. I had no idea what it was. Instincts? Probably. After years of tolerating her bullshit and her incessant intrusion on my marriage life, my mind had perceived her as a pure enemy. She wasn’t my friend. Mother-in-law? I wouldn’t call her that. She hadn’t earned it. She wasn’t remotely close to the title, but the brutal truth was that Stella was my mother-in-law. Literally.

     Why was she calling me? To ask me to come back? I was certain Tom had informed her. As usual, he couldn’t handle the situation. He had to run to Mommy dearest.

     Coward, I muttered. I didn’t want to answer, but I did, promising myself this would be the last time she’d hear from me.

     “Hello, Stella,” I said, my mouth ready to retort at the least provocation.

     “Elodie,” she snapped, “finally, you decided to pick my call. Where are you?”

     “I can’t tell you that.”

     “Can’t or won’t?” she grumbled.

     I rolled my eyes, as though she could even see me. “What do you want?” I mustered courage and added, “If you don’t talk, I promise I’ll hang up.”

     If I came off as rude, I didn’t give a heck anymore. I was done being the subservient wife when she treated me like trash. I couldn’t wait to tell them I was filing for a divorce.

     “You’ve got some nerves, Elodie. Don’t forget I’m still your mother-in-law. I demand some respect.”

     “The only reason I’m still talking to you, mother-in-law,” I said between gritted teeth.

     “You have to come back. Tom needs you.”

     Have to? I scoffed. What did she think? That I was Tom’s puppet? “I don’t have to come back. Have you spoken to Tom? Found out why I left?”

     There was silence. Clearly, she hadn’t. She’d picked up her phone to call me right after Tom informed her I was nowhere to be found. She didn’t care why I left. All she cared about was me coming back, which was never happening unless they kidnapped me.

     “Look, Elodie,” she said, her voice gaining weight as though she was already fed up with me but wouldn’t give up yet because it was important to her son, and so in a way, it was to her too. “No marriage is perfect. I understand you and Tom haven’t had that either, but you shouldn’t have left. You can always sort things out.” Her voice was calm when she ended.

     I stopped the urge to tell her that she didn’t understand what was happening in our marriage because she never cared about me. “I’m not coming back, Stella. I came here to rethink my marriage with Tom.”

     “Rethink your marriage?” she gasped, then sighed. “What are you talking about?”

     My fingers trembled. I curled them around the phone, feeling a lump in my throat. Was I ready for this? I didn’t need to be reminded of their power and influence. If I pursued this, I’d need concrete evidence of Tom’s abuse. I already had a confession. A good start.

     Stella didn’t have to know about my plans for now. I gulped hard. “You’ll find out soon.”

     “You can’t leave Tom. Whatever happened, surely you could sort it out.”

     “Not this time,” I said tersely.

     “You have to understand Tom has been through a lot ever since his Dad—my husband died in the car crash.”

     The tone of her voice changed. It almost sounded sorrowful. But I knew Stella and as much as I wanted to sympathize with her, I wouldn’t. This was her way of gaslighting me into coming back. I knew too much to be misled. I couldn’t have made a better decision than leaving Tom. After all the ill-treatment, she wanted me to let everything slide and run back into Tom’s arms.

     “It was hard for us, especially Tom. He was his role model. You must understand that we all have flaws. We make mistakes at some point in our lives, and you should always be ready to forgive people.”

     I stifled a scoff. As usual, she wanted me to doubt my perception and see her son as a victim, not the victimizer he was. She had no idea she’d aroused my curiosity now—the more reason I was certain he and Tom had been lying to me for a very long time.

     “Nice try, Stella, but I’m still not coming back.”

     “I see your mind is made up. At least tell us where you are. Are you safe?”

     I couldn’t stop smirking at how hilarious she sounded. I was sure she knew she was being comical. But a desperate mother would do anything to ensure her son was happy.

     “You’ve never cared about me,” I told her, although she knew it. “There’s no need to conceal your true feelings for me. You don’t love me. You and I know it.”

     “Don’t be so callous,” she snapped. “Of course, I care about you. I must admit you and I haven’t especially been on good terms, but I care about you. You’re my daughter-in-law.”

     I tucked strands of hair behind my ear and massaged my temple, then heaved a sigh. She had no idea the kind of hell Tom had put me through. “Last year when I was hospitalized, what did you think happened?”

     “I don’t know, Elodie, unless you tell me.”

     “You don’t know because you didn’t wanna know.” My face contorted. “I broke a rib. I still feel the pain sometimes.” I touched my rib. The wound had healed, the fracture gone, but the scars never did. They wouldn’t. They’d always haunt me.

     “Guess how I broke that rib,” I said, my voice devoid of any emotion. “Your darling son pushed me off the staircase.”

     The line went dead silence—not even a sigh. I wasn’t surprised she was shocked. This was evidence enough that she’d never cared about me. If you loved your daughter-in-law so much, wouldn’t you ask how she was hospitalized when you visited her?

      After a while, she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

     I huffed. “Of course you didn’t know.”

     “I’m sure Tom didn’t mean to hurt you and he was sorry. Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell me about it.”

     My irritation was reaching a breaking point now. I said, my voice sarcastic, “I’m sure he was so sorry about it. Can I ask you something?”

     I didn’t wait for her to respond. I spilled it out, “If I were your daughter, would you ask me to go back to a man who hurt me more than once?”

     More silence. I suddenly felt like we were at the cemetery. She couldn’t talk. I didn’t even expect her to. I pushed the phone slightly away from my ear. “Goodbye, Stella. I hope I don’t see your face again.”

     I refrained from adding it, but succumbed, and murmured, “You make me sick.”

     Then I hung up, turning off the power button. I had been wanting to tell her that for a very long time. Right now I couldn’t stop feeling the satisfaction that came from telling her the truth.

     I placed my phone on the counter, pulling my hair backward. Stella had said something that piqued my interest. When I married Tom, he’d told me his father died of a heart attack. Now her mother was telling a different story. A car crash killed Mr. Grant. Did she make it up to garner sympathy from me, so I’d come back? Or did Mr. Grant truly die in a car crash?

    If the latter was true, then Tom lied about his father’s death. Why would he do that? He didn’t strike me as a liar during our so many years of marriage. Or Stella was the liar? Whatever it was, I knew I couldn’t go back to Tom until I found out who he truly was. Scary. I thought I knew the man I married, but I did not.