“Dad?” Ethan said, alarm cutting through his words. “What happened?!”
“I had a health scare, son,” my father-in-law, Derek, said. He looked much smaller than I remembered, his face pale and drawn. “The doctor says I shouldn’t be alone right now. I didn’t know where else to go.”
Ethan didn’t hesitate. He never did when it came to his father. He stepped aside immediately.
“Of course. Of course! Come in. You can stay with us as long as you need.”
I smiled because that was what a good wife did. I helped take Derek’s coat. I offered him some spicy chicken soup and garlic bread. I told myself that kindness was always the right choice.
“The doctor says I shouldn’t be alone right now. I didn’t know where else to go.”
For the first few days, Derek played his part perfectly. He moved slowly, leaned on his cane, and thanked me after every meal like it physically pained him to ask for anything.
Ethan hovered constantly, fixing pillows, pouring drinks, and tucking blankets around his father’s knees like he was made of porcelain.
“You okay, Dad?” he asked one night after dinner.
“I’m fine, son. Just tired,” Derek said, his voice weak but polite.
I watched them from the kitchen doorway, trying not to read too much into the way Derek’s eyes always followed me the moment Ethan turned his back.
The shift in energy was slow, almost quiet.
It started with dirty dishes left in the sink right after I’d finished cleaning. Then there were crumbs ground into the living room rug. And not to mention the decorations I had spent hours arranging, knocked over and left for me to fix.
The shift in energy was slow, almost quiet.
Every time I said something, Derek smiled faintly.
“Oh, I must not have noticed, Claire. These hands aren’t what they used to be.”
“No wonder you don’t have children.”
“My son deserves a wife who knows how to make a home feel warm.”
“I guess not everyone is cut out for real marriage. It happens, Claire.”
“No wonder you don’t have children.”
My father-in-law’s voice never changed tone. He was always calm and light, and these biting comments only happened when Ethan was in the other room.
When I finally told Ethan, he frowned.
“He said that to you? My dad? Really?”
“More than once.”
“He’s sick, Claire,” he said. “He is scared and embarrassed. Maybe he didn’t mean it how it sounded.”
When I finally told Ethan, he frowned.
“I’m not imagining this,” I replied.
“I’m not saying you are, honey. I’m just saying… maybe let this go?”
I didn’t respond. I just nodded. But inside, something began to shift. I wasn’t angry. I was just starting to feel invisible in my own home.
I didn’t respond.
I called Jenna one afternoon while Derek was upstairs napping. Or pretending to — at this point, I wasn’t sure about anything. Jenna was my best friend and confidant, but she was also Ethan’s cousin. If anyone knew Derek’s true colors, it would be her.
“This feels wrong,” I told her, leaning against the washer. I’d locked myself in the laundry room just to breathe. “He makes messes, says cruel things when Ethan isn’t around, and then plays helpless the moment anyone’s watching.”
“Has he always been like that?” Jenna asked, her voice careful but alert.
“This feels wrong,” I told her.
“I don’t know, Jen. This is your family. You grew up around him, didn’t you?” I asked. “You’d know Derek better than I would.”
There was a long pause before she spoke again.
“I was still in middle school, Claire. But yeah, I remember when Derek moved back in with Aunt Marianne for a while. Ethan and I were close then — I slept over at their house all the time. But after his dad came back, something changed.”
“Changed?”
“You’d know Derek better than I would.”
“Yeah. His mom stopped hosting dinners. She stopped going out. I mean, Aunt Marianne was the person who baked elaborate birthday cakes for Ethan, but after Derek moved back in with his family, she stopped that too. She bought store ones and didn’t even bother to sign the cake.”
“What happened?” I asked, already suspecting.
“She left. There wasn’t any warning. Just packed a suitcase and went to stay with her sister across the state. Ethan didn’t talk about it, and honestly? Nobody else did either. It was like it was easier to pretend she’d just needed space. I think Derek just drained the life out of that home.”
“And Ethan never questioned it?” I asked, my stomach knotting.
“What happened?”
“He tried,” Jenna said. “He told me once, after a few beers, that he thought she gave up too easily. But I don’t think he really believed that. I think he just needed a reason that didn’t hurt so much.”
The room around me felt colder.
“So, this… this has happened before.”
