Dangerous Mother-in-law, Turbulent Marriage

In the dead of night, my son wailed. I gazed upon his fragile, thin face, and the anger within me simmered, threatening to boil over.

Cathrine, unaware, had once again surreptitiously taken the breast milk I had painstakingly prepared and stored in the refrigerator that morning. She was oblivious to the fact that I had substituted it with an ordinary formula.

Jeremy's absence left me cautious, restraining me from acting on my impulses. Yet, the moment I stepped into the house that night, Cathrine hurled the bottle at my feet.

"Why did you replace the breast milk with formula? Are you trying to starve my grandson?"

She questioned me as her eyes widened with feigned concern for Xavier.

Little did others know that she had been secretly giving away my breast milk.

"Cathrine, what are you implying? Questioning me? As Xavier's biological mother, I know best what he should be drinking," I retorted.

My gaze remained steady as I slowly bent to retrieve the bottle.

"Moreover, I'm uncertain where the nutrients from my breast milk are truly going." My words were laced with a veiled insinuation.

She looked stricken. Her eyes narrowed to sharp points.

"What do you mean by that?"

I let out a soft laugh, "Xavier is growing; breast milk alone isn't sufficient for his nutritional needs anymore. I've consulted a doctor, who says formula is more appropriate for him now."

"Bullshit! I've raised a child before; I know better than you that Xavier needs breast milk. Formula can't compare to the nutrition in breast milk. Don't neglect my grandson just to spare yourself the trouble."

I couldn't suppress a sneer, thinking why I had somehow managed to preserve her reputation.

Just as I was on the verge of unveiling her duplicity, the phone in my pocket vibrated to life.

As the name "Jeremy" illuminated the screen, I stole a glance at Cathrine. For a brief moment, a radiant spark of joy danced across her features.

She stood as an amused spectator to a drama in the living room. I frowned, retreating to my room with the phone in hand. A sense of foreboding settled in my heart.