On my wedding night, I had to give my bed to my mother-in-law because she was “drunk”; the next morning I found something stuck to the sheet that left me speechless… On my wedding night, I was exhausted after a long day attending to the guests, so I retired to my room, hoping to cuddle with my husband and sleep peacefully.

—Claire, it’s too noisy downstairs—she said in a sweet but cold voice.

Let me rest here tonight. Just for a little while.

I looked at Ethaп clumsily. He hesitated for a moment and then whispered:

—Mom’s just a little drunk. Let her stay a while, honey.

I didn’t want to cause problems on my first night as a bride.

I nodded and carried the pillows to the sofa downstairs.

But as I was leaving, I glimpsed Margaret’s gaze upon her son: not the gaze of a drunken mother, but something more: possessiveness and fear of losing control.