She Envies My Perfect Life

I announced my pregnancy over Christmas Eve dinner, my voice thick with a joy I thought we all shared.

My mother didnt offer a toast. Instead, she set her wine glass down with a clinical click and looked at my husband.

Nathan, I should find you a young, healthy live-in nanny, she said, her voice eerily calm.

Nathan nearly choked on his brisket. I felt the color drain from my face.

"Rileys always been a bit lazy," she continued, picking at her salad. "Now that shes pregnant, shell be even more useless around the house. A young girl could handle the choresand, you know, take care of your other needs. Its only natural. Why should you have to suffer just because Rileys all cooped up and bloated?"

"Mom!" I slammed my fork onto the table, the silver clattering against the china. "What the hell kind of joke is that?"

She looked at me, her eyes narrowing into cold, dark slits. "Im not joking. What man stays faithful during a pregnancy? Your father was out running around the second I started showing with you. All men cheat, Riley. What makes you think yours is some kind of saint?"

A wave of hot, silent fury crested in my chest. Just because her husband was a coward didn't mean mine had to be.

Nathan looked like he wanted to crawl under the floorboards. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and reached across the table, lacing his fingers tightly through mine.

"Lydia, please dont test me," he said, his voice trembling but firm. "I love Riley. I would never dream of doing anything to hurt her."

My mothers smile didnt just fade; it curdled. I saw the flash of pure, unadulterated envy in the depths of her eyes.

"My poor, naive son-in-law," she sighed, sounding almost pitying. "Rileys already betrayed you. Why should you stay loyal to her?"

I stared at her, my mouth falling open. "Mom, what are you talking about? Ive never"

She reached into her vintage leather handbag with the practiced grace of a magician and pulled out a yellowed, crinkled piece of notebook paper. She slid it across the tablecloth toward Nathan, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"This is the love letter Riley wrote to a boy in high school. I intercepted it. I made a hundred copies and plastered them all over the school hallways myself."

She looked at Nathan with a sick kind of triumph. "She was eighteen, throwing herself at boys. I would never have done something so shameless. It proves that mentally, Riley was never 'pure' for you. She was used goods long before you met her."

She let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "I was a virgin on my wedding day and I still got treated like dirt. A girl like her? You shouldn't be putting her on a pedestal. You should be looking for someone better."

I gripped the edge of the table so hard my fingernails bit into the wood. The room seemed to shrink, the air turning heavy and stale.

I don't have it, so why should you?

That had been the mantra of my childhood.

"I didn't have a bra at your age, why should you? Just wrap a cloth around it," she'd say. Or, "I never had fancy pads; I used rags. Figure it out yourself."

I grew up without new clothes, without basic hygiene products, without dignity. When I was eighteen, a boy in my chemistry class noticed I was struggling. He had seen the bloodstain on my skirt one afternoon and, red-faced and stuttering, had shoved a bag of tampons and pads into my locker the next day. He told me if I ever needed anything, to just ask.

I was so moved I wrote him a thank-you note. A simple, heartfelt letter of gratitude.

My mother found it and twisted it into a confession of lust. She told me I was a whore, that he only bought me those things because Id slept with him. She dragged me to a clinic for a physical exam. When the doctor confirmed my hymen was intact, she didnt look relieved. She looked devastated.

But she recovered quickly.

"Physically a virgin? Maybe," she had spat. "But youre a slut in your heart. Youre worthless, Riley. You were born for a man like your fathera piece of trash."

She had edited my thank-you note, adding graphic, desperate sentences, and then shed destroyed my reputation at school. The boy never spoke to me again. My teachers looked at me with disgust. I was an outcast until the day I left that town for college.

I worked hard. I built a career. I made more money than she ever dreamed of. She eventually apologized, claiming she was just "protecting my future" from teenage distractions.

I thought she had changed. I thought she finally loved me.

Nathan finished reading the "letter" and looked at my mother like she was a dangerous lunatic.

"Lydia, I don't care if this is real or if it happened twenty years ago," he said, pushing the paper away. "I dont live in the past. I live for our future. Riley makes me happy, and I am never going to betray her."

He squeezed my hand. The ice in my veins began to thaw under the warmth of his grip.

My mothers face twisted. Nathans loyalty was an insult to her. She couldnt break him, so she turned her sights back on me.

"How far along are you, Riley?" she asked, her voice dangerously sweet.

"Nearly four months," I replied, my guard up.

She let out a long, satisfied breath. "Four months... hmmm. Youll be getting the marks soon."

She leaned in, her eyes bright with a terrifying excitement. "The stretch marks. God, theyre coming for you, Riley. My stomach was ruined because of you. Deep, purple gashes that never went away. Your father couldn't even look at me. He called me 'mutilated.' Just wait until you're covered in them. Nathan won't be so sweet then."

A cold shiver raced down my spine. This wasn't a mother talking to a daughter. This was an enemy savoring a victory. Why did she want me to be ugly? Why was she praying for my husband to stray?

She wouldn't stop. She was animated now, her hands fluttering as she spoke. "The marks are just the beginning. Your hair will fall out in clumps. Your skin will blotch. Youll leak when you sneeze, youll be loose, youll be repulsive. He won't want to touch you. Hell find someone who hasnt been 'ruined.'"

Even Nathan, the most patient man I knew, snapped. "Lydia, stop. Thats enough."

"It won't be like that," Nathan continued, his voice hard. "Ive already booked Riley into a luxury postnatal retreat for after the birth. We have a top-tier doula and specialists to help her recover. She's going to be fine. And even if her body changes, Ill only love her more for the sacrifice she made. I would never leave her."

My mother froze. Her eyes went blank, as if she were processing a language she didn't understand.

I expected her to scream. I expected her to wail about how she never got a postnatal retreat, so why should I?

But she didn't. She just sat there, robotically spooning potatoes onto Nathans plate, whispering, "Eat, you need to eat."

In her eyes, I saw envy, yesbut beneath it was a hollow, echoing void of pain. My heart throbbed with a misplaced pity. She had raised me alone. She was broken, and I told myself that her cruelty was just a symptom of her suffering. I decided to endure it. For the sake of "family."

A few weeks later, Nathan and I went to the postnatal center to finalize our paperwork.

"Im sorry, Mrs. Vance," the receptionist said, looking confused. "But your mother called yesterday. She canceled the luxury suite and requested a full refund."

My heart plummeted.

I drove straight to her house. When I walked in, I was blinded by the flash of a heavy gold cuff on her wrist. She didn't even try to hide it.

"I gave you my wedding jewelry because you complained you never had anything nice," I said, my voice shaking as I grabbed her arm. "I would have bought you this, Mom. Why did you cancel my retreat? Why did you steal that money?"

At the mention of the retreat, her eyes turned a feral, bloodshot red. She ripped her arm away and slapped me across the face so hard my ears rang.

"How dare you!" she shrieked. "I never had a day of rest after I popped you out! I was back on my feet in forty-eight hours, bleeding and hurting! Why do you get to be pampered? Why are you better than me?"

I touched my stinging cheek, staring at her. Because I didn't have it, you can't have it.

As I stood there, stunned, she suddenly lunged at me. She grabbed the hem of my maternity shirt and yanked it up.

"Five months," she hissed, her eyes scanning my midsection with a desperate, hungry light. "You must have them by now. Show me! Show me how disgusting you look!"

When she saw my stomachsmooth, pale, and unblemishedher face crumpled. She rubbed her eyes, leaning in close, refusing to believe it. My skin was clear.

She began to cry, but they weren't tears of sadness. They were tears of rage. She hiked up her own shirt, pointing at the faded, silvery lines etched into her skin.

"I turned into a monster for you! Your father left because of this! I have themwhy don't you have them?"

She let out a guttural scream.

Despite the horror, I felt a pang of sorrow for her. Her life had been nothing but bitterness and lack. I reached out, my arms trembling, wanting to hold her, to finally bridge the chasm between us.

"Mom, everyones body is different," I whispered. "I'll pay for laser treatments for you, okay? We can fix it"

She opened her arms. For a split second, I thought she was going to embrace me.

Instead, she buried her jagged, unkempt fingernails into the skin of my belly and raked them downward.

She clawed at me with a sickening ferocity. "Liar! You're spending money on creams and treatments behind my back! You're trying to stay pretty to spite me!"

I screamed, the pain so sharp I nearly blacked out.

"I'm your mother! If I have them, you have them too!"

I looked down through blurred eyes. Deep, bloody furrows ran across my stomach, mimicking the very scars she hated. She hadn't stopped; she was digging in deeper, trying to ensure the marks would be permanent.

"Nathan! Help me!" I shrieked.

Nathan burst through the door. I saw his face go pale with horror before the world tilted and went black.

I woke up in the hospital. Nathan was holding my hand, his eyes red from crying. "She's insane, Riley. Im looking into specialized facilities. Were done with her. We have to be."

I nodded, too weak to argue.

When we finally returned home, we found her sitting in our living room. Id forgotten she had a spare key. She looked at my hospital gown and rolled her eyes.

"I gave birth in a shack," she scoffed. "You lose a little blood and you run to the ER? You're so dramatic, Riley. Nathan, you shouldn't indulge her. It's a waste of money."

My heart, already shattered, felt like it was being ground into dust.

The doorbell rang. My mother perked up and hurried to the door, returning with a young woman in tow. The girl was pretty, in a sharp, hungry sort of way, wearing a short, ruffled "maid" costume and sheer black stockings.

Nathan and I exchanged a bewildered look.

"Nathan," my mother said, presenting the girl like a prize. "This is Jade. Ive hired her as your 'helper.' Shes young, shes hard-working... isn't she much better to look at than a bloated housewife?"

Jade looked down, biting her lip with a rehearsed shyness.

My mother was doing it again. Because her husband cheated, mine had to, too.

Nathan didn't even hesitate. "Get out," he said, his voice vibrating with rage. "You look ridiculous, and youre clearly not here to clean. Lydia, take your 'friend' and leave our house before I call the police."

My mother gripped the doorframe. "Jade is very talented," she said with a wicked glint in her eye. "Just give her one day. A trial run. You cant judge a girl by her clothes. She needs the work, Nathan. If she doesn't find a job, her family will sell her off to some old man in the countryside. Have some heart!"

Jade looked up with watery eyes. "Please, Mr. Vance. Just one chance."

My head was pounding. I just wanted them gone. "Fine," I muttered. "One day. If they aren't gone by tomorrow morning, Nathan, call the cops."

My mother and Jade shared a look. It was a look of pure, predatory triumph.

The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed. I called Nathans name, but the house was silent. I walked down the hall to the guest room.

The door was ajar. I pushed it open and the world stopped spinning.

Nathan and Jade were lying in the bed, completely naked, their skin flushed, the sheets tangled around them in a way that left nothing to the imagination.

The pain that ripped through me was physical. I let out a jagged cry and swept a glass vase off the nightstand. It shattered against the floor.

My mother walked in, leaning against the doorframe. She looked at me with the most radiant smile I had ever seen on her face.

"Your father did it. Why shouldn't your husband?" she purred. "I married a loser, why should you get a man like Nathan? Jade is young and beautiful. Theyre a much better match."

She grabbed my arm, her grip like iron. "Come on, don't make a scene. Let the lovebirds be. Were going to the clinic to get rid of that baby, and then Ill introduce you to someone who actually suits you. Stan from across the street is looking for a wife."

Stan. A forty-year-old alcoholic who lived in his mothers basement and had a history of domestic calls.

This wasn't just jealousy. This was hatred.

Then I saw the empty bottle of heavy-duty sedatives and an industrial-strength aphrodisiac on the dresser. My stomach turned.

I wrenched my arm away from her, severing the last thread of "family" I had left. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911.

"I'd like to report a poisoning and a sexual assault. The address is..."