The doorbell rang like a sentence. < img src = "https://zycie.news/crrops/79a6a9/620x0/1/0/2025/02/23/uy2xpjleel444z0jbi6GH9GSFVVUW0CHcyiiopcdjpbb.jpg.jpg" alt = "from life taken." Quot; mother -in -law does not give me a normally live & quot; styles = "background-color: rgba (204,197,186,1)" > < p > I looked at my watch. 08:00. Punctually.

< p > I took a deep breath and opened the door.

< p > — Good morning, dear! & Amp; MDASH; The mother -in -law entered the apartment, as if it were her property.

< p > I didn't invite her. I never had to.

< p > she always came anyway.

< p > at the beginning I thought he wanted us to be a pom & c.

< p > that he just misses his son.

< p > but in time I understood the truth.

< p > did not come to help.

< p > came to rule.

< p > — And what is the mess ? — She asked, looking at the living room.

< p > — I cleaned yesterday — I answered, feeling a growing voltage.

< p > — I think weak, because the dust can be seen on furniture.

< p > I sighed.

< p > — I can make you coffee ?

< p > — If you can do it properly.

< P >In the kitchen opened cabinets and moved the dishes.

< p > — Plates should stand here, and here cups. You have a complete chaos.

< p > — This is M & Amp; J House, I set everything as I feel comfortable & mdash; I answered, pr & oacute; becating.

< p > — But M&P; Oacute; J son lives here! & Amp; MDASH; She said indignantly. & Amp; MDASH; So I have something to say.

< p > I clenched my fists.

< p > did she really think that ?

< p > Then came the time for cooking.

< p > — You do this dish again ? Marek never liked him!

< p > — You myself m & oacute; that he liked & hellip;

< p > — Well, but I cooked differently.

< p > I took a deep breath.

< p > Each day was a test of my patience.

< p > Each morning began with her criticism.

< p > and I couldn't stand it anymore.

< p > in the evening I told Mark:

< p > — Your mother must stop coming every day.

< p > looked at me surprised.

< p > — But why ?

< p > — Because I can't live normally!

< p > For a moment he was silent.

< p > — You know, she does it because he is worried < p > — Dead ? Does he wants to control our lives ?

< p > — You exaggerate.

< p > I exaggerate ?

< p > so I was the problem.

< p > the next day came again.

< p > at 8:00. Punctually.

< p > This time I didn't open the door.

< p > I heard her steps behind the wall.

< p > The bell rang again and again.

< p > and I stood on the other side and I knew one thing:

< p > If I let her, I will never have my own life.

Natasha Kumar

By Natasha Kumar

Natasha Kumar has been a reporter on the news desk since 2018. Before that she wrote about young adolescence and family dynamics for Styles and was the legal affairs correspondent for the Metro desk. Before joining The Times Hub, Natasha Kumar worked as a staff writer at the Village Voice and a freelancer for Newsday, The Wall Street Journal, GQ and Mirabella. To get in touch, contact me through my natasha@thetimeshub.in 1-800-268-7116