I was never a perfect mother, but I tried. Some mornings, the pancakes were a little too crispy around the edges, but at least everyone had something warm on their plate.
Laundry? Well, let’s just say I worked on a flexible schedule—which meant if something needed to be washed, you’d better remind me before the last pair of socks disappeared.
But I loved my kids. I loved my life. Even when it felt overwhelming.
Oliver worked late most nights, so it was just me juggling dinner, bath time, and bedtime stories. And honestly? I liked it. Most of the time.
That night, after finally putting the kids to bed—rescuing stuffed animals and refilling water bottles twice—I walked into the kitchen, ready to collapse.
Oliver was already there, sitting at the counter, looking excited. His laptop was open in front of him.
“Sweetheart,” he said, grinning like a child who had just pulled off the best surprise. “I have a gift for you!”
I looked at him suspiciously. The last time he said that, I ended up with a robotic vacuum that beeped aggressively at me every time I left socks on the floor.
He slid the laptop toward me. “Look.”
I leaned in and gasped. On the screen was an enrollment page for a professional baking course—the one I had been dreaming about for years.
“Oliver… this is incredible.”
“I knew you’d love it!” he said, beaming.
And I did. I really did. But there was one glaring problem.
“When would I have time for this? I barely have time to sit down.”
“Well, that’s where my second surprise comes in. Mom is moving in with us. She’ll help with the kids so you can focus more on yourself.”
“Your mother? Living here?”
“Just for a little while,” he reassured me quickly. “She really wants to help, and it’ll make things easier for you.”
Help isn’t a bad thing, right? In theory, having another adult around should make things easier. But in reality?
There were things I knew about Marian. Things that made my stomach twist at the thought of sharing a roof with her. I swallowed, pushing away the unease.
Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe this would actually be… good. Or maybe I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life.
On the day my mother-in-law arrived, I wanted everything to be perfect. The kids had cleaned their rooms—well, mostly.
I had to remind them five times, and I still found a suspiciously lumpy blanket on Theo’s bed, likely hiding an entire civilization of toys. But it was good enough.
The scent of cherry pie filled the kitchen, warm and inviting. I placed it on the counter to cool, smoothing my apron. It was my signature dessert—the one everyone raved about. Even Marian. Maybe it would help set a positive tone.
A car engine rumbled outside. She was here.
I wiped my hands on my apron and stepped onto the porch, pasting on a welcoming smile. But the moment I saw them…
Marian stepped out first, looking as impeccably put together as always. But my eyes weren’t on her. They were on the man beside her.
Tall, broad-shouldered, with slicked-back hair and a smirk that made my stomach churn.
Greg.
“Kayla, let me introduce you to Greg, my love!” Marian announced cheerfully.
No. No, no, no. This isn’t happening.
“Your… love?” I managed to say, struggling to keep my composure.
“Yes, darling! I couldn’t leave him behind! He’s helpless without me!”
Helpless. Right.
My heart pounded against my ribs, but I couldn’t let it show. Not yet.
Oliver stepped outside just then. He glanced at Greg and Marian, and I saw the surprise flicker across his face before shifting into barely concealed discomfort.
But Oliver was Oliver. Always polite, always trying to keep the peace.
“I suppose… it’s fine if you both stay for a while,” he said.
Greg smirked. “I appreciate it, man.”
Marian beamed. “Oh, this is going to be wonderful!”
I didn’t return her enthusiasm. Something felt off.
Later that night, I came downstairs, craving a warm glass of water to calm my nerves. As I passed by the guest room, I saw a glow under the door. I was about to turn away when I heard it.
“I can’t stand kids!” Greg’s voice was low and sharp, like a blade.
I froze.
“Oh, sweetheart. Just be nice,” Marian murmured.
“Be nice?!” Greg hissed. “I’m sick of playing soccer with those little brats!”
Marian chuckled softly. “Oliver would never kick us out. And Kayla won’t let him. Okay, my love?”
My pulse roared in my ears.
“What?”
The word slipped out before I could stop it. I stepped into the doorway.
Marian and Greg both turned, their faces momentarily startled before Marian’s expression morphed into something infuriatingly smug.
“You need to leave,” I said firmly.
Marian sighed, tilting her head like I was an overreacting child.
“Oh, Kayla, always so righteous. But if you make us leave, I’ll have no choice but to tell Oliver how you helped his father escape from his own wife.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. My fingers tightened around the doorframe as Marian’s words settled into my bones like ice.
Oliver’s father.
No.
She couldn’t know. She wasn’t supposed to know.
I had buried that secret deep, thinking it would never resurface. But Marian… she had always been like a bloodhound when it came to sniffing out weaknesses. And now, she had a weapon.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady.
Marian just smiled—slow and deliberate. “Oh, sweetheart, we both know that’s not true. You helped him escape, didn’t you? Helped him disappear when he needed to. What do you think Oliver will say when he finds out?”
Greg leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Yeah, Kayla,” he drawled. “What do you think he’ll say when he realizes you’ve been keeping secrets from him all along?”
My stomach twisted.
This wasn’t just about them overstaying their welcome anymore. It wasn’t about Greg’s smug attitude or the way Marian manipulated every situation to her advantage.
This was blackmail.
Marian knew exactly what she was doing. She knew Oliver loved his father. That he had spent years searching for answers, never knowing the truth about why he had disappeared.
And now, if I pushed them out, she would make sure Oliver found out the worst possible way.
I sucked in a breath, trying to steady my thoughts. I had two options—let them stay and allow them to invade my life, my home, and my family… or risk losing everything by exposing a truth I had kept buried for years.
Neither choice felt like winning.
But one thing was certain.
I wasn’t going down without a fight.
