Just then, Mike walked through the front door.
He stopped and looked me up and down with disgust.
“My God, Emily! Have you even looked in the mirror?”
“Sophie was awake almost all night. I barely had time to—”
“Always the same excuses! I work all day, and you sit at home doing nothing. You can’t even make yourself look presentable!”
I held my daughter tighter, fighting back tears.
“Mike, I’m just exhausted.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Exhausted? My mother raised three children, and she never let herself look like this. I wish you were more like her.”
Those words hurt worse than anything else.
My mother-in-law, Margaret, was a strict woman who rarely praised me. Whenever Mike and I disagreed, he always compared me to her.
Five minutes later, the doorbell rang.
It was Margaret.
My stomach tightened.
Mike didn’t even bother greeting her.
“Mom, come look at my wife! Is this how a married woman should look? Tell her how a real wife is supposed to behave!”