The Mother-in-Law Situation
Celeste barely had time to settle into her new "job" when the sleek glass doors of the executive floor swung open with purpose.
And in walked Margaret Sinclair.
Tall, elegant, and with an air of effortless command, Adrian's mother was the kind of woman who could silence a room without uttering a single word. Dressed in an immaculate white blazer, her presence alone screamed power—the kind that didn't need to be announced.
Celeste immediately straightened in her seat.
Margaret's sharp gaze swept across the room, locking onto her.
"Well," Margaret said, setting her designer bag down on Celeste's desk, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "I didn't believe it when I heard, but here you are. Working."
Celeste forced a polite smile. "Good morning, Mom."
Margaret's brows lifted slightly at the "Mom" but, to Celeste's relief, she didn't seem displeased. If anything, she seemed amused.
"I would have expected you to be sitting in my son's office, not outside of it," Margaret mused, tapping her manicured nails against the desk.
Celeste's smile barely wavered. "It's part of the arrangement."
Margaret hummed, clearly not impressed. But instead of pressing further, she turned on her heel and strode straight into Adrian's office without another word.
Celeste let out a breath. This family was going to kill me.
She reached for her coffee. "God, I need something stronger than this."
?
Adrian barely looked up when his mother entered, but the tension in his shoulders said enough.
Margaret closed the door behind her.
"Secretary?" she asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against his desk.
Adrian sighed. "It wasn't my idea."
Margaret smirked knowingly. "No, I imagine it wasn't." She glanced toward the door where Celeste had been. "But it seems to be working. She's flourishing."
Adrian's jaw ticked. "I don't care about appearances."
Margaret tilted her head. "Oh, but you should. Divorce talks, bar fights—your wife declaring her single status in public. You two are becoming quite the spectacle."
Adrian exhaled through his nose, his grip on his pen tightening.
Margaret studied him for a moment before sitting down across from him. But this time, her voice lost its teasing edge. It became softer. More cutting.
"Adrian," she said, and it was the first time since she walked in that his gaze snapped to hers. "Do you even realize what you're doing?"
Adrian's expression didn't change, but something in his chest twisted.
Margaret raised an eyebrow. "Getting a divorce, really?"
He froze for a moment before his jaw tightened. "It wasn't me. It's Celeste. She's the one who wants out."
Margaret leaned forward, her eyes sharp.
"This marriage—this wasn't just arranged by us. You wanted it. No one forced you. You made the choice."
Silence.
Adrian clenched his jaw, looking away.
Margaret leaned forward slightly, her eyes never leaving his.
"Let me tell you something about women, Adrian," she said, her voice calm but laden with warning.
"Once a woman's given everything she has—once she's drained, worn thin by the weight of it all—there's nothing left to give.
And when she finally lets go, it's too late. There's no coming back."
He wanted to argue, to deny it, but he couldn't. He knew she was right. Celeste had been slipping away for months now, and he hadn't done a damn thing to stop it.
Her voice was calm, but the weight of it settled deep in Adrian's chest.
Margaret exhaled, shaking her head. "I look at Celeste, and I see it. She's close, Adrian. So damn close. If you don't want to lose her, you need to do something. Now."
Adrian sat there, still as stone.
Margaret stood, smoothing out the sleeves of her blazer. "Pursue her, fight for her—or let her go. But if you keep up this half-assed effort, don't be surprised when she just disappears one day."
With that, she walked toward the door, pausing only to glance back at her son.
"Your move, Adrian."
And then she was gone.