“And be careful. If she thinks you’re unstable, she may use that against you.”
“She already is.”
“Then don’t give her anything. No threats. No confrontations you can’t control.”
Andrew understood.
He was an electrician.
You didn’t tear open a wall just because a light stopped working.
You traced the circuit.
You found the break.
Then you made the repair where it mattered.
For the next week, Andrew watched Mary.
She became gentle overnight.
She brought home Harry’s favorite snacks.
She suggested family dinners.
She asked about therapy.
She sat beside him during movies, close enough to look like a mother, far enough not to risk rejection.
Harry stayed polite.
He said thank you.
He answered questions.
But he never leaned into her.
Never reached for her.
Never let her close a door between them.
Mary noticed.
Andrew saw it in the quick tightening of her smile.
On the eighth day, Andrew came home from work and found Betty in the kitchen.
She sat at the table with both hands around a coffee mug she had not touched.
Mary stood behind her.
“My mother wants to explain,” Mary said.
Andrew set his tool belt on the floor.
“Where’s Harry?”
“In his room. I thought this should be between adults.”
“This is about him.”
Mary’s expression sharpened.
“Please don’t make this harder.”
Andrew pulled out a chair and sat across from Betty.
