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CHAPTER 4 : MY MUM HUSBAND IS DRIVING ME CRAZY
publish date:
2026-05-06 02:36:30
Latest chapter
HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND CHAPTER 147: THOMASINA CONT’D
My mother called on a Wednesday.She called every Wednesday now — not the update call, not the checking-in call. The actual call, the one that went wherever it went, the one that had produced some of the best conversations I had ever had with her.“How is she,” she said.“Opinionated,” I said. “She cried for forty minutes last night because she disagreed with something.”“She’s Thomas’s granddaughter,” my mother said. “Of course she’s opinionated.”“She’s three weeks old,” I said.“Precocious,” my mother said. “Also Thomas.”I looked at the photograph above the fireplace.Thomas Morgan at twenty-six.The stubbornness in the jaw.The attention in the eyes.“How’s Patrick,” I said.A pause.“He’s here actually,” she said. The specific casual quality of a woman mentioning something she has not quite decided how to mention.“He’s there,” I said.“He made dinner,” she said.“Patrick made dinner,” I said.“He cooks,” she said. “I didn’t know he cooked. He arrived with ingredients and just—”
HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND CHAPTER 146: THOMASINA
BELLA’S POVShe arrived on a Tuesday in September.Of course she did.September — the month the whole thing had started, the entrance hall and the assembled version of a man who had been losing the battle against it from the first morning. September, one year exactly from the arrival at the estate with the bag and the book and no plan to become what I had apparently become.She arrived at four in the afternoon, which Dr. Hargreaves described as efficient, and she was — as advertised, as predicted by everyone from Marcus to my mother to the twenty-week scan — a girl.Thomasina.Thomas’s daughter’s daughter.The room changed when she arrived.Every room she was ever going to be in.She had his eyes.Not Dominic’s — though she had those too, the dark intensity of them, the looking quality. My father’s eyes. The specific shape of them, the attentiveness already present in a person who had been in the world for approximately forty minutes.My mother cried.Not the controlled brief cry of t
HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND CHAPTER 145: THE WEDDING
BELLA’S POV We got married in June. Not the estate — that had been the first conversation, the one that happened the morning after the proposal over eggs that nobody burnt for once, which felt significant. “Not the estate,” I had said. “No,” he had agreed, immediately, which told me he had already thought about it. The estate was the house where the arrangement had happened and the back stairs and the managed distances and all of it. It was also home — genuinely, fully home — but a wedding needed to be somewhere that was only the wedding. Not layered with everything the house had been before. My mother had suggested the enclosed garden. We had both looked at her. “Too small,” she said. “Obviously. But the spirit of it.” The spirit of it — the forty-year space, the bench at the correct angle, the rosemary in its corner, the space made by a woman who had loved something properly for a long time and had left it in good bones. We found a place in May. A garden — not a
HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND CHAPTER 144: SPRING
BELLA’S POVThe baby became visible in March.Not dramatically — not the overnight transformation of film pregnancies. The slow arrival of a fact that had been internal becoming external, the body deciding that the thing it had been doing quietly was now going to be apparent to anyone who looked.I looked in the mirror on a Tuesday morning in March and thought: there it is.Twenty weeks.The halfway point.Dr. Hargreaves had done the scan the previous week — the room, the screen, the specific unreality of watching something move that was also somehow yours. Dominic had been in the chair beside me, the person in the chair beside me, exactly as he had said he would be.He had looked at the screen with the full attention.The genuine noticing quality. The real looking.He had said nothing for a long time.Then: “She moves like you.”I had looked at the screen.“You can’t possibly know that,” I said.“She’s impatient,” he said. “Look at her.”I had looked at the screen.The thing that was
HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND CHAPTER 143: JANUARY
BELLA’S POVUniversity started on a Wednesday.I took the train in from the estate — forty minutes, the November countryside now January grey, the bare hedgerows doing their patient thing. I had the bag with the books and the enrollment letter and the specific feeling of a person returning to something they had left and finding it both the same and entirely different.The campus was smaller than I remembered.Or I was larger.One of the two.My course director — Dr. Emmeline Walsh, fifties, the kind of academic who wore interesting scarves and had no patience for imprecise language — had met me at enrollment. She had looked at me over her glasses and said: “You’ve had a year.”“Yes,” I said.“Good,” she said. “It’ll be in the writing.”She was not wrong.I saw a therapist on Thursdays.Her name was Dr. Adaeze Okonkwo and she worked from an office in the city that had two plants, one of which was clearly struggling, and she had the quality of someone who had heard everything and had de
HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND CHAPTER 142: SIX WEEKS CONT’D
Week five.The university sent the enrollment confirmation.Jennifer made dinner to celebrate — something ambitious that produced three separate disasters and one genuinely excellent result and required the evacuation of the kitchen at one point due to smoke.We ate the excellent result at the kitchen table and Jennifer said: “To Thomas Morgan’s daughter. Who is going back to university. Who is going to be extraordinary.”I looked at the glass of water I was drinking.“To Thomas Morgan’s daughter,” I said.We drank.The kitchen.The November evening.The yellow walls.I pressed both hands on my stomach.Thirteen weeks.The thing real and present and mine and not mine simultaneously, the thing that was its own person already, with its own schedule and its own certainty, arriving because it was time.“What are you thinking,” Jennifer said.I looked at the window.“That I’m ready,” I said.“For university,” she said.“For all of it,” I said.She looked at me.“Two more days,” she said.“
HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND CHAPTER 1: MY MOTHER’S NEW HUSBAND
The front door slammed open with such force that the walls shook.I looked up from my laptop, heart hammering, as my mother stumbled inside like something was chasing her. Her eyes were wild, her chest heaving, her designer handbag, when did she get a designer handbag?—hanging crooked from her shou
HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND CHAPTER 5: THE MOVIE
BELLA'S POVI should have walked away the moment I heard the sound.That was the smart thing to do. The right thing. The thing any normal person would have done, turned around, gone back to their room, closed the door, pretended they'd heard nothing.But I have never, apparently, been particularly
HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND CHAPTER 3 : THE FORBIDDEN FEELING
BELLA’S POV For a second, neither of us moved. He just stood there, holding my underwear, his dark eyes locked on mine.I snatched it from his hand and shoved it behind my back. "I, I'm sorry. My bad.""I'm just going to take this and leave," he said, his voice tight. He grabbed whatever he'd been
HER MOTHER’S HUSBAND CHAPTER 2 : THE MOST TEMPTING MOMENT
BELLA’S POVHis hands were still on my waist. His breath was warm against my neck.And for one insane, terrifying second, I wondered what it would feel like if he didn't let go.I forced myself to sit up straighter, pulling away from him."Sorry," I mumbled.He didn't respond.The car kept moving.
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