When Gideon suggested we live apart for a month to “reignite their relationship,” I thought it was one of those modern trends couples try when they’re struggling but don’t want to admit it.
He spun it like a splendid idea, claiming it would help us reconnect and value each other more.
“You’ll see,” he said, smiling over his coffee one morning. “It’ll be like dating all over again. You’ll miss me. I’ll miss you. And when the month’s over, it’ll be like a fresh dawn.”
I didn’t love the idea. What wife would? But Gideon was adamant. He seemed so certain this was for the best, so I packed a bag, moved into a short-term rental across town, and told myself it would be fine.
The first week was uneasy and solitary.
Gideon barely called or texted but chalked it up to the fact that he was “savoring the space” and focused on staying occupied.
I even started looking forward to what he’d called “our grand reunion, Nora.”
One day, I invited my sister, Tessa, over.
“Are you sure about this, Nora?” she asked as she poured herself a glass of wine. “I mean, it’s a bit dubious.”
“I know,” I agreed, arranging a charcuterie board. “But whenever I showed any opposition, Gideon would lose his temper. So, I figured that it was something he needed to do.”
“Yeah, I get that,” she said. “But something isn’t right about this, sis. I’d watch Gideon closely, if I were you.”
I have to admit, she was correct. And I felt the same way. What valid reason would Gideon have to actually want us to be separated?
Then, one quiet Saturday evening, my phone buzzed.
“Nora,” Clara’s voice crackled through the line, low and pressing. “You need to come home. Right now. I saw a woman in your house. I can’t see much, but I saw a shadow through the window.”
I put the knife I was using for chopping vegetables down and shook my head clear.
Clara was my neighbor and wasn’t the type to exaggerate.
“What? Truly!?”
The air felt like it had been sucked out of my lungs.
A woman? In our house?
My mind immediately jumped to the worst-case possibility:
Gideon had moved someone else in. A lover.
Then again, it could’ve been something else. A burglary, maybe, or Marla, Gideon’s mother.
But I dismissed those possibilities almost instantly. Gideon had been so aloof lately, barely calling or texting. My instinct told me that it had to be infidelity.
Infidelity.
“Are you certain?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Positive,” Clara said resolutely. “Hurry, Nora. Something is occurring!”
I didn’t stop to ponder. I grabbed my keys and dashed out the door.
When I reached the house, I didn’t bother knocking. My hands were trembling as I shoved the door open, adrenaline surging through me. It was as if my senses took over. I ran up the stairs and straight into my bedroom.
There she was.
Not a mistress, but Gideon’s mother.
Marla.
Marla was standing in the middle of my bedroom, surrounded by heaps of my clothes. My closet doors were flung wide open, and she was holding one of my lace bras with a look of contempt.
“What the hell are you doing?” I shouted, startling her.
Marla glanced up, unbothered by my outrage.
“Oh, Nora. You’re back sooner,” she said nonchalantly.
She waved the bra in the air like a piece of refuse.
“I’m organizing this house. This isn’t appropriate for a married woman.”
My jaw dropped.
“Excuse me?”
She gestured toward several trash bags on the floor. They were stuffed with my clothes, lingerie, dresses, and even casual garments.
“Nora, these don’t reflect the principles of a proper wife. Gideon asked me to help get things in order while you were gone.”
I felt a wave of anger surge over.
“Get my things in order? By discarding my clothes? Who gave you the authority to do this?”
Marla’s lips pursed as she straightened her posture.
“Honestly, Nora, someone had to intervene. This house is a disaster, and your wardrobe… well, it sends the wrong impression. Gideon deserves better!”
Her words felt like a blow in the face.
Marla had always been critical. She always had snide remarks about my cooking and little jabs about how I kept the house, but this?
This was a new level of boldness.
“Where is Gideon?” I demanded, my voice shaking with wrath.
“He’s out,” Marla replied casually. “Running errands, I suppose. He knows I’m here. We both agree this is what’s necessary.”
What’s necessary?
Her words echoed in my head as I stood there, stunned. Gideon hadn’t just let this happen. He’d summoned her here.
I was still standing in the bedroom fuming when Gideon finally came home an hour later, stomping up the stairs. Marla had moved to the living room, probably sensing her presence would only fuel the flames.
“Nora?” Gideon said, stepping into the room.
His tone was puzzled, almost irritated. “Why are you here?”
“Why am I here?” I snapped. “Because Clara called and told me there was a woman in our room rummaging through my things. Imagine my shock when I found out it was your mother!”
Gideon sighed like I was the one making this into a big issue.
“Nora, calm the heck down. Mom is just here to assist.”
“Assisting?” I repeated, incredulous.
“Yes,” he said, his voice maddeningly composed. “You’ve been struggling with… well, everything lately. Haven’t you? You only sweep the living room and the kitchen. The rest of the house is a wreck. There are crumbs in the bed. And the fridge handle is always sticky.”
“That’s because you eat in bed, Gideon! You choose to eat in bed like a barbarian, instead of just eating in the living room or dining room. As for the fridge, it’s sticky because of your peanut butter and jelly fingers.”
“Don’t blame me for everything, Nora!” he barked. “I thought Mom could step in while we sort things out.”
“While we sort things out?” I repeated, my voice rising. “Is that what you think this break is about? You said this separation was to reignite our relationship, Gideon. Not to invite your mother in to repair me like I’m some kind of broken device.”
Gideon rubbed the back of his neck.
“Nora, don’t twist this. You’ve been stressed lately, and Mom offered to assist. That’s all. I didn’t think you’d react like this.”
I let out a bitter chuckle.
“Of course, I’m reacting like this! You didn’t even inform me. You moved your mother into our home. Into my bedroom! And let her discard my clothes. How did you think I’d react?”
He groaned, clearly exasperated.
“Look, I didn’t plan for this to happen. It’s just… you’ve been so overwhelmed lately, and Mom knows what it takes to keep a proper household. She was trying to assist you… assist us.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“You think this is assisting us? You think letting your mother invade my space, disrespect my boundaries, and scorn my choices is helpful? Gideon, this isn’t a partnership. It’s dominance. And the fact that you can’t see that is even worse.”
Gideon looked stunned like he hadn’t expected me to be so furious. But I didn’t care. I was done.
I grabbed a suitcase and packed whatever clothes Marla hadn’t deemed improper. Without a second glance, I walked out the door.
That was three days ago. I’ve already contacted a lawyer.
Some people might think I’m overreacting, but to me, this wasn’t just about the invasion of privacy or the humiliation of having my mother-in-law discard my belongings.
It was about Gideon showing, loud and clear, that he didn’t see me as an equal partner in our marriage.
He didn’t want a wife.
He wanted someone to cook, clean, and keep the house like in the 1950s.
Well, that’s not me.
When Gideon asked for a “break,” I didn’t know what he was expecting. But I’ll tell you what he’s getting.
A divorce.
Now, I’ve moved into Tessa’s apartment while the divorce is processed. I can’t wait to have half of everything Gideon owns.
He needs to understand what it feels like to have everything one day and then have the ground pulled out from under your feet when you least expect it.
“What was the worst part of it all for you, sis?” Tessa asked.
“That my husband saw me as a failure,” I replied. “Our marriage wasn’t perfect, sure. But we weren’t in such deep trouble, you know? And Marla always loathed me. Remember when we were getting ready for the wedding, and she came and mocked my hair and makeup?”
Tessa sighed and continued shaping the homemade pizzas we were having for dinner.
“I always knew Gideon was the biggest error of your life,” she admitted.
“What?” I gasped, almost knocking over a bowl of olives.
“I’m sorry, Nora,” she said quietly. “But after you met him, you lost passion in all your hobbies. Where’s my sister who would paint anything she desired? All she needed was a canvas and her paints.”
I was quiet for a moment.
“I didn’t realize,” I admitted.
“Find her, Nora,” Tessa said. “She deserves to resurface.”
So, I did exactly that. I rented out a space for myself, making sure that there was an extra room for my art studio.
Finally, I was going to shed Gideon and Marla from my life and rediscover myself.
