I thought my mother-in-law’s passive-aggressive comments were awful, but then I witnessed her say something on national television that left me stunned. What happened next? It’s safe to say that she was well-prepared.

Charlene, my mother-in-law, was never my biggest admirer. In reality, she has been practically fixated on bringing me down ever since Holden, her beloved son, placed that ring on my finger. It’s been subtle—most of the time.

Snide remarks about how Holden was much happier when he dated his high school lover. I heard this story practically every time we sat down to a family dinner.

“Oh, Holden and Sarah were so lovely together. Do you remember how she used to bake those gorgeous pies for him?”

Uh, no, Charlene. I wasn’t present because Holden and I are now married.

But I’ve always played nice. “Oh, I’m sure that Sarah was wonderful,” I’d say with a painfully tight smile. And when did she “accidentally” call me Sarah? I would laugh it off. Everything is alright, right?

Fast forward to roughly a month ago. It was a sleepy Saturday morning, and I was surfing between channels with a coffee in hand, trying to relax.

I find myself on one of those excessively theatrical daytime talk shows where folks vent their dirty laundry for fifteen minutes of fame. I wasn’t paying close attention until I noticed a familiar face on the TV.

Charlene. I froze.

“Is that—no way,” I whispered, leaning forward.

Yep. Seated on the stage, my darling MIL appeared as if she was about to reveal some sort of bombshell. I squinted and wiped my eyes, wondering whether I was still half asleep.

But, nah. It was Charlene in her full splendor. Dressed as though she was on her way to the Oscars, Charlene conversed with the host as if they were close friends. My curiosity piqued, I cranked up the volume, and the things she spoke almost made me choke on my coffee.

“I simply want a true wife for my son.” Someone who can give him the life he deserves,” she explained.

I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. Initially, I thought, “There’s no way the conversation is about Holden.” Perhaps she is referring to another impoverished kid of hers. But then she said something very unexpected.

“My son is a widower,” Charlene said passionately, pausing for emphasis.

I almost choked. Widower? What the hell was she talking about? Last I checked, I was still alive, breathing, and — oh yes—married to her son!

I sat up on the couch, my heart racing.

“Holden’s late wife,” she continued with a false sorrowful expression, “was kind, but really? She wasn’t an ideal fit. She didn’t know how to care for him in the manner a proper wife should. “I have been waiting for him to find someone worthy of our family.”

I blinked. Is it not a favorable match? Late wife?!

I glanced at the TV in complete bewilderment. This woman appeared on national television, proclaiming my fabricated death and dragging my name through the gutter. What purpose did she serve? Her goal was to find a suitable replacement for her son. Like I was an outdated milk carton she could just throw away?

Charlene kept speaking, her voice becoming more theatrical with each syllable. “He deserves someone who will offer him the life he genuinely desires. A family. Children. I’m simply trying to help him cope with his grief and locate the right woman to replace the one he lost.”

I was shaking. IS THAT THE ONE HE LOST?

I wasn’t sure whether to shout, weep, or throw anything. Instead, I grabbed my phone and started recording. The scenario was too absurd to not have evidence. I needed Holden to see it. Upon the conclusion of the section, I remained seated for a moment, gazing at the television to allow the information to fully absorb. Charlene had become completely psychotic.

That night, when Holden arrived home, I didn’t even greet him. I simply thrust my phone into his face, pressed play, and observed his expression shift from bewilderment to indignation.

“What the hell is this?!” he exclaimed, his eyes almost popping out of his head.

“Oh, it’s just your mother going on TV to announce my death and find you a new wife.” Not a big deal.”

“She did what?” he inquired, shocked.

“We’re going to teach her a lesson she’ll never forget.” I smiled as the wheels of vengeance began to revolve in my thoughts.

That’s when the plan came into being.

We set the stage the following morning.

Holden grabbed his phone and used his best “devastated son” sound. He took a deep breath and phoned Charlene.

“Mom,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’ve received bad news.”

There was stillness on the other end for a time before Charlene said, “Holden?” What is wrong? “What happened?”

Holden sniffed, making it appear as if he was just holding it together. “You were correct, Mom. Something terrible occurred to my wife. She’s gone.” She died.

I could hear Charlene’s sudden intake of breath from where I was sitting on the couch. Holden had her hooked.

“What?! No! “No, Holden!” She cried, her voice quickly increasing in terror. “What do you mean?” “How could such an event happen?!”

Holden cleared his throat, attempting to sound as melancholy as possible. “It just happened so suddenly.” “You acknowledged her unsuitability, and now she’s no longer with us.”

Charlene cried on the other end, her voice breaking. “Oh my God!” The situation is entirely my responsibility! I never intended for any of this! I—”

“Mom,” Holden said, “I need you to come over.” Right now. Please.”

“I am coming!” I’m coming right now!” Charlene yelled. Then the connection went dead.

I looked across to Holden, who was attempting to hold back a chuckle. “She bought it,” he said, shaking his head in surprise.

I arched an eyebrow at Holden as he tossed his phone on the table. “You’re a natural,” I murmured, hardly containing my grin.

I put my feet up on the coffee table, absolutely peaceful and vibrant, ready for the performance to begin. Of course she did. “Let’s see how she handles this minor plot twist.”

One hour later, we heard the front door bang open. Charlene rushed into the living room, mascara dripping down her face and her eyes wide with fear.

“Where is she?!” “What happened to her?!” She screamed and looked around frantically as if she expected to find me lying in a coffin, wrapped in black.

But instead, I was sitting on the couch, sipping tea and browsing through my phone like it was any other Saturday morning.

Her gaze fixed on me, and the color faded from her cheeks. She froze, her mouth hanging wide as her brain attempted to absorb what she was witnessing. She initially appeared perplexed, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Then it clicked.

Someone had tricked her.

I raised my teacup and gave her a smirk. Morning, Charlene. “You look as if you saw a ghost.”

Charlene’s hands sprang to her lips. “But…but…you—” she stuttered.

Holden stepped up and confronted her, his demeanor icy and unwavering. “You should think before you speak, Mom. “You thought that your little ‘widow’ stunt would magically make her disappear?”

Charlene blinked, her mind attempting to catch up. “I-I didn’t mean for it to—” She halted herself, choking on her words.

“Didn’t mean for what?” Holden snapped and stepped forward. “For me to assume my wife had died? For you to go on national television and declare she was gone simply so you could begin looking for a replacement?”

“I was just trying to help you, Holden!” Charlene wept, her hands shaking. “You deserved better! You deserve someone who can provide for you.

“No.” Holden’s voice was frigid, and his eyes were tough as steel. “You’ve stepped over a boundary, Mom.” “A large one.”

Charlene’s lip quivered. “I only wanted the best for you! She’s—”
“She’s my wife,” Holden interrupted, cutting her off. “And if you can’t respect that—if you can’t respect me— then you and I are done.”

Charlene’s eyes widened as her entire body trembled. “I—I did not intend for all of this!” You do not understand—”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” Holden said, his voice as harsh as a dagger. “You wanted to dominate me. Control us. But here’s the thing: you don’t get to decide my life. I do.”

Charlene began to speak again, but Holden stopped her with a harsh stare. “If you engage in such an act once more, I will be featured on television in search of a new mother.” I need someone who genuinely respects me.”

The room went quiet.

Charlene’s face fell as she realized how much she had messed up. She looked at me and then back at Holden, her lips twitching as if she wanted to say anything — anything — to remedy this.

Unfortunately, it was too late. Without saying anything further, Charlene staggered out the door, her sobbing ringing down the corridor.

I gave out a low whistle and shook my head. “Well, that was… something.”

Holden sat down next to me and rubbed his temples. “I can’t believe she did that.” I chuckled and handed him my cup of tea. “At least she knows now. “Play stupid games to win stupid prizes.”

He took the tea and stared out the window. Then, with a half-smile, he turned to me and added, “Maybe next time we’ll do a proper burial.” For her delusions.”