I always knew my mother-in-law, Denise, didn’t like me. She wasn’t outright cruel, but she had this way of making me feel… temporary. Like I was just a phase in her son’s life.
So when my husband, Julian, invited her over for dinner, I wasn’t surprised when she suddenly got a “work call” right before we started eating.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she sighed dramatically, holding up her phone. “It’s my manager—I have to take this.”
Julian looked disappointed, but he nodded. “Of course, Mom.”
She stepped away from the table, pressing the phone to her ear. “Yes, I understand. No, that’s totally fine. I can leave now if you need me to.” She glanced at us with a fake grimace, like she was so sorry to be ditching us.