Mary dreaded visits to her mother-in-law Scarlett’s home, where disdain was always served first. Scarlett topped wedding-day audacity by wearing a veil, clinging to her “baby” son long after he’d grown up. Now, arriving again at their home, Mary braced herself.
Scarlett greeted Ed with a teary embrace before shifting her gaze to Mary with a smirk: “I see you’ve gained a few pounds.” Dinner followed an all-too-familiar script—sharp critiques about Mary’s cooking, work, and style. Mary tightened her grip on her fork.
Then the barbed question landed: “I think it’s high time you gave me a grandchild. Or maybe… Mary has some issues?” It felt like salt poured into a raw wound—Mary had been trying to conceive for six painful months.
She snapped. “How dare you!” she burst out. “Maybe it’s your son who has the problem!”
Ed, quiet and scrolling through his phone, offered no defense. Scarlett scoffed, calling Mary “crazy,” before recommending herbal teas. Overwhelmed, Mary fled to the bathroom. She returned pale and weak, telling Ed she wanted to leave. He acquiesced with barely a glance.
Back home, Mary took a pregnancy test, her heart pounding. Two lines appeared—and relief flooded her. She was pregnant. She found Ed’s reaction flat and distant: “That’s… good,” he murmured.
Weeks later, exhausted by his aloofness, Mary discovered Ed’s betrayal on his phone: flirty messages and lies about his job. Confrontation followed, and his chilling response dropped everything: he denied the baby’s legitimacy, threatened divorce, and claimed both the house and his mother’s money.
Heartbroken, Mary turned to Scarlett—Ed’s own mother. She laid everything bare: the baby, his threats, his lies. Scarlett listened. She clasped Mary’s hands and said, “I can’t believe my son would do this.” For once, Mary wasn’t alone.
