The words echoed through my mind like a dropped glass shattering in slow motion.
She must have seen the look on my face because she patted my arm in a way that made my skin crawl.
“Don’t look so shocked, dear. We’re family now.”
My voice, when it finally came, was barely more than a whisper.
“No. Absolutely not.”
I stepped back and pulled my phone from my pocket with trembling fingers.
“Liam and I never discussed this. You are not moving in here.”
Brenda only gave a low, scratchy chuckle.
“Oh, sweetie, call him. Go right ahead.”
The phone rang once. Twice.
Then Liam answered, cheerful and distracted.
“Hey, babe. You will not believe this traffic. Got the cuff links, though. Everything okay?”
“No,” I said, and my voice cracked on the word. “No, Liam. Nothing is okay. Your mother is here.”
I swallowed hard and looked at the mountain of boxes invading my home.
“She says she’s moving in with us.”
There was a pause.
Then Liam’s voice tightened instantly.
“What? No. That’s insane. Put her on the phone.”
Relief rushed through me so hard it almost made my knees give way. I held the phone out to Brenda like it was proof that sanity still existed.
“He wants to talk to you.”
She took it with maddening calm.
“Hello, sweetie,” she cooed. “Yes, I’m here. I just brought a few things over. No, no, she’s being a little dramatic. You know how brides can be.”
She listened for a moment, then glanced at me. Her eyes glittered.
“Liam, darling, don’t you remember our little chat last month? You promised. You promised me I would always have a place with you.”
When she handed the phone back, she did it with the expression of a woman who had just confirmed a lunch reservation.
“You see?” she said softly, already turning toward the U-Haul again. “It’s all been arranged.”
I stood there frozen, staring at her back as she walked away.
You promised me.
Those three words moved through my mind like dark ink spreading through water.
Liam had promised her.
My Liam.
How? When? Why had he kept something this enormous from me two days before our wedding?
The dress hanging from the ceiling no longer looked magical. It looked like something from another life, one that had ended without warning.
Brenda came back inside with another box, this one shedding scraps of old paper as she went. A moment later I heard cupboard doors opening in the kitchen.
My kitchen.
“Just finding a spot for my spice rack,” she called brightly. “Yours is so minimalist.”
A hot rush of anger cut through my shock.
I marched into the kitchen.
She had already pushed my neatly labeled jars of herbs to the back of a shelf to make room for a mismatched army of dusty tins and old containers.
“Put them back,” I said.
My voice was low enough to sound dangerous.
She didn’t even turn around.
“Don’t be silly, dear. There’s room for both of us. We just need to be efficient.”
Then she started humming under her breath, a tuneless little sound that made me want to scream.
I felt completely powerless. Physically moving her things seemed like the kind of escalation that would explode the whole situation before I had a plan. But letting her continue felt like surrender. Every minute that passed was another inch of my home, my future, claimed as if it belonged to her.
By the time I heard Liam’s car pull into the driveway, she had brought in a total of fifteen boxes. They blocked half the living room. She had also unpacked an absolutely hideous floor lamp shaped like a flamenco dancer and plugged it in beside my favorite chair. The fringed shade cast a sickly yellow glow over everything.
The front door opened.
Liam stepped inside with a hopeful smile on his face and a garment bag slung over one shoulder.
