“Your husband can celebrate his birthday perfectly well without you. You, on the other hand, should go and meet my daughter,” her mother-in-law announced bluntly.
Victoria slowly lifted her eyes from the brightly wrapped gift boxes she had been arranging with meticulous care across the dining table. Standing in the doorway was Evelyn, her mother-in-law, draped in an expensive burgundy dress that looked chosen for maximum effect.
“I’m sorry—what did you just say?” Victoria set down the silk ribbon she had been about to tie around David’s main present.
“Are you deaf? My Melanie lands from Dubai tonight. Someone needs to pick her up at JFK, drive her home, help her with her luggage. David will survive without your ridiculous little surprises.”
Victoria straightened gradually. In four years of marriage she had grown accustomed to Evelyn’s manipulative tactics—but this was new.
“Evelyn, tomorrow David turns thirty-five. I’ve been planning this for six months. I reserved a private room at his favorite restaurant, invited friends he hasn’t seen in years—”
“You’ll cancel it,” Evelyn interrupted, flicking her hand heavy with thick gold rings. “Melanie matters more than your nonsense. She hasn’t been home in three months. She misses us.”
“I’m not a chauffeur. And I’m certainly not a maid. Melanie has a husband—let Ryan pick her up.”
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed, her dark red lips curling into a thin, disdainful smile.
“Ryan is busy handling serious business. And what exactly do you do that’s so important? Sit at home and spend my son’s money on pointless things. For once in your life, try being useful to this family.”
“I work!” Victoria shot back. “I own a floral studio. I employ twelve people.”
“You sell flowers,” Evelyn scoffed. “That’s a hobby for bored housewives, not a profession. Real work is signing multimillion-dollar contracts—like my late husband did. Like David does now.”
Victoria’s hands clenched at her sides. Heat swelled in her chest, tight and suffocating.
“Does David even know about this ‘request’?”
“David doesn’t waste time on women’s trivialities. He’s in Chicago for high-level negotiations and won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. By then you’ll have brought Melanie home and returned. Maybe you’ll even cook something for your husband’s birthday—though with your skills, ordering takeout would be safer.”
“I’m not going,” Victoria said firmly.
Evelyn stepped closer, trailing the scent of expensive French perfume and superiority.
“Listen carefully, young lady. You live in an apartment MY son purchased. You drive a car MY son gave you. You wear jewelry that—”
“That’s enough!” Victoria jumped to her feet. “I’m not a gold digger. I have my own business, my own income. And we bought that apartment together—I paid half.”
“Oh, don’t make me laugh. With your daisy money? David let you contribute out of pity, so you wouldn’t feel like a freeloader. Though that’s precisely what you are.”
The words struck with surgical precision. Victoria knew they were lies—her studio was thriving, and she had indeed transferred half the payment for the apartment from her own account. But Evelyn possessed a disturbing talent for twisting reality until it suited her.
“You know what? Handle it without me. Let Melanie take a taxi. Or go pick her up yourself, if she’s so important.”
“Me?” Evelyn pressed a hand dramatically to her chest. “I have a heart condition. Doctors have forbidden stress and long trips. JFK would be a trial for my health.”
“Yet flying to Monaco every other month isn’t too much for your heart,” Victoria muttered before she could stop herself.
Evelyn’s face flushed a dangerous shade of crimson.
“How dare you! Ungrateful girl! We welcomed you—a provincial nobody from Cleveland—into this family, and you—”
“I’m from Cleveland, not some backwater farm town! I have a degree, my own company—”
“Enough!” Evelyn shouted. “You will be at Terminal Three at seven. Melanie lands at seven-thirty from Dubai. And don’t you dare be late.”
With that, she spun on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the walls.
Victoria collapsed onto the sofa. Her hands trembled—part fury, part humiliation. She grabbed her phone and dialed her husband. It rang endlessly before switching to voicemail: “The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable.”
For the next several hours she paced the apartment, replaying the argument over and over. She didn’t want to surrender to Evelyn’s manipulation. But she also knew that refusing would ignite a scandal large enough to overshadow David’s birthday entirely.
Around five o’clock her phone finally rang. David’s name flashed on the screen.
“David! Thank God you called. Your mother came over and—”
“Hey, Vika. Listen, Mom told me you’re picking Melanie up tonight. I appreciate it. I know you two don’t exactly get along, but it means a lot.”
Victoria went still.
“So… you knew? And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“She just called me about an hour ago. I assumed you’d already discussed it. What’s the issue?”
“The issue is that tomorrow is your birthday! I’ve arranged everything—the restaurant, the guests—”
“Vik, we can move it to the weekend. It doesn’t matter what day we celebrate. Melanie doesn’t come home often. She needs support. Something’s going on with Ryan.”
“There’s always something going on with her! Why do I have to drop everything and run to the airport?”
“Because you’re my wife. You’re part of this family,” David replied, his tone sharpening. “Don’t start, please.”