That slipped out before I could stop it.
Gladys’s eyebrows rose.
“Oh?”
I looked at Eli.
He looked away.
Of course he did. Gladys smiled.
“I simply suggested it.”
“You announced it before either of us had agreed.”
“Oh, don’t be dramatic.”
I took one slow breath.
“You’ve criticized everything I’ve done today.”
“I offered advice.”
“You inspected my food, questioned every decision I made, and somehow decided I was the problem.”
She folded her arms.
“If you were more confident, constructive criticism wouldn’t upset you.”
Then she smiled.
It wasn’t kind.
It was victorious.
“You clearly can’t cook properly.”
The room fell silent.
She wasn’t finished.
“And judging by how exhausted my poor son always looks these days, you don’t seem very interested in your wifely duties either.”
Nobody moved, and nobody spoke.
I slowly turned toward Eli. He looked embarrassed.
“Say something.”
He shifted on the couch.
“Mom didn’t mean it like that.”
My heart sank. Those six words hurt more than everything she’d said all afternoon.
Gladys nodded, satisfied.
“Exactly.” Then she looked directly into my eyes. “So I decided to do what you apparently wouldn’t.”
She reached for Eli’s foot again. “I took care of my son.”
Something inside me went completely quiet. I looked around the room. Nobody was defending me. One cousin stared at the television with exaggerated focus. An uncle suddenly became fascinated by the snack bowl. Even the relatives who looked uncomfortable stayed silent.
I wasn’t waiting for Gladys to stop anymore. I was waiting for my husband to choose me.
He didn’t.
Then my eyes landed on the bookshelf.
My phone.
The little red light was still glowing. The livestream was still running. Gladys kept talking.
She had no idea.
I did.
I could have ended it.
But I didn’t.
My heart pounded so hard I could hear it over the television. More than 50 relatives lived too far away to come, so they’d asked us to stream the watch party.
Now, they hadn’t just watched the game. They’d watched everything.
Gladys followed my gaze. Her smile faltered.
“What are you looking at?”
I didn’t answer.
Then her phone buzzed.
She ignored it.
A second later, Eli’s phone buzzed.
Then his sister’s.
Then his brother’s.
Within seconds, the room filled with vibrating phones.
The soccer match might as well have disappeared.
Everyone reached for their screens.
Eli frowned.
“What…”
His sentence died as he read the first message.
Across the room, his cousin Melissa covered her mouth.
An uncle muttered, “Oh, boy.”
Gladys finally picked up her phone, and the color drained from her face.
The first comment at the top of the livestream was from Denise, “Gladys, did you really just say that to Ivy?”
More comments followed so fast they pushed each other off the screen.
My phone chimed from the bookshelf.
Again.
