Straightening Affairs - 5. Chapter 5

The pressure of their financial situation had been building for weeks, and it was becoming unbearable. Late on rent, barely able to scrape together enough for groceries and other essentials, Michael and Sarah found themselves standing at the edge of a financial cliff with no easy solution in sight.

Sarah's parents had offered to help, and her father had even tried to pull some strings to get Michael a job at his company. But like so many other places, they were going through rounds of layoffs and were not hiring. The offers from her family to pitch in, even Nathan and Ryan offering their savings, had touched Michael deeply. But it still wasn’t enough to bridge the gap they needed to stay afloat.

Even Jennifer had reached out, offering whatever help she could. The love and support from Sarah’s family gave them hope, but the reality remained—there was only so much they could do, and Michael felt the weight of it all pressing down on him. It was only a matter of time before their apartment became another bill they couldn’t pay.

Finally, one evening, as they sat in their dimly lit living room, the air thick with worry, they knew it was time to face the inevitable. The conversation they had been avoiding had to happen now.

“We need to figure out what to do next,” Sarah said, breaking the heavy silence. She glanced at Michael, the lines of exhaustion on his face mirroring her own. She could see how much this was eating away at him.

Michael ran his hand through his hair, his leg bouncing nervously under the table. He had been dreading this conversation, knowing there were no good options left. “I know,” he said quietly. “But… what can we do? We’ve already cut back on everything we can. Your family’s helped as much as they can, but…”

His voice trailed off, and he didn’t need to finish the thought. They both knew that the help they had received so far wouldn’t be enough to pull them out of this hole.

Sarah bit her lip, hesitating before speaking. “We can’t stay here, Michael. We’re sinking. I’ve been thinking about it, and…” she looked away for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “Maybe moving back in with your parents is the only real option we have left.”

Michael froze at her words. He had known this was coming, but hearing it out loud felt like a punch to the gut. His heart sank, and the weight of the decision hit him all over again. Moving back home would mean stepping back into the very situation they had worked so hard to escape.

“I don’t know, Sarah,” he said softly, shaking his head. “You know how it’s going to be. The criticisms, the constant tension with my mom… She’s going to love the fact that we’re coming back, and not in a good way. She’ll say ‘I told you so’ a hundred times over.”

Sarah nodded, her heart heavy. She had thought the same thing. In the back of her mind, she knew this was a recipe for disaster. Living under his mother’s roof would come with a daily barrage of judgments—about their decision to move out in the first place, about their relationship, about how they handled money. The thought of being under that roof again, with all the tension and the inevitable “I told you so” from his mother, made her stomach turn.

But she also knew the harsh truth: they were out of options. Whatever savings they had left were practically gone, and her part-time job wouldn’t keep them afloat for much longer. As much as she hated to admit it, moving in with Michael’s parents was the only way to stop the financial bleeding.

“I know,” she whispered, meeting his eyes. “I know it’s going to be hard. But if you move back in with your parents, and I keep working, we can at least save what little we have left. We could rebuild our savings and eventually get back on our feet. It’s not forever.”

Her voice faltered as she said the words. She wasn’t sure she believed it herself—how long could they really last in his parents' home without it tearing them apart? But she couldn’t see any other way out.

"But Michael, you need to speak up. You can’t let your mom control you. I’m willing to compromise—we’ll move in with her—but you have to stand up for yourself. If not for me, then for you."

Michael’s face tightened with worry. He knew Sarah was right, but the thought of going back filled him with dread. Moving in with his parents wasn’t just a step back; it felt like surrendering to everything he had been trying to avoid. His mother’s looming presence, her passive-aggressive comments, the constant judgment—it would be suffocating. And worse, he didn’t know how their relationship would survive it. Would he be able to speak up? To defend himself? To stop the criticism?

“What if this ruins us?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “What if going back home makes everything worse?”

Sarah reached across the table, taking his hand in hers. “Michael, we’ll get through this,” she said softly. “It’s not going to be easy, and I’m scared too. But if we don’t do something, we could lose everything. This isn’t the end for us. We’ll find a way to make it work.”

Michael looked at her, his chest tight with anxiety and fear. He had always admired Sarah’s strength, her ability to stay calm and focused in the face of adversity. And now, even when their backs were against the wall, she was still there, holding him up.

He squeezed her hand, his voice breaking. “I don’t want to lose us.”

“You won’t,” she said, her voice firm. “We’re stronger than this. We’ll survive it.”

Michael nodded, though the fear still gnawed at him. He knew they didn’t have a choice anymore. As much as it hurt his pride, as much as it filled him with dread, moving back home was the only real option left. They would have to face his mother’s criticisms, endure the uncomfortable living situation, and somehow come out the other side with their relationship intact.

“Okay,” Michael said finally, his voice filled with a mix of resignation and resolve. “Let’s do it. We’ll move back in with my parents. But we’ll get through it, together.”

Sarah squeezed his hand again, offering him a small, encouraging smile. “Together,” she repeated.

They sat there in the quiet of their small apartment, knowing the decision they had made would bring new challenges—ones they weren’t fully prepared for. But they would face them together, no matter how hard it got.

Canceling the lease proved to be just as difficult as Michael and Sarah had feared. The landlord was unyielding, sticking strictly to the terms of the lease. They would have to pay for the remaining three months—money they simply didn’t have.

After a tense phone call with the landlord, Michael hung up, his face pale with stress. He looked at Sarah, who sat quietly across from him. “We have to pay the rest of the lease,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “That’s three months’ worth of rent.”

Sarah shook her head in disbelief. “We don’t have that kind of money.”

“I know.” Michael took a deep breath and made a decision he knew they would regret later. “I’ll put it on my credit card. We’ll figure out how to pay it off when we can.”

Sarah opened her mouth to object, but the look in Michael’s eyes told her that there was no other way. They had reached the point where there were no good options left. She nodded, feeling the weight of yet another debt looming over them.

Over the next few days, they packed up their small apartment. The rooms that had once felt like their sanctuary were now filled with the chaos of moving boxes. They had rented a moving van for their furniture, though it would be a tight fit moving everything into the small basement at Michael’s parents’ house. But they couldn’t bear to part with their things—it wasn’t just furniture, it was a symbol of the life they had tried to build together. Some of it they left with Sarah’s parents for safekeeping, but most of it they took with them.

The day they arrived at Michael’s parents’ house was gray and overcast, as if even the sky was reflecting the somber mood. They pulled up in the moving van, and Michael’s heart sank as he saw his mother standing outside, waiting for them.

She smiled when she saw Michael step out of the van, her arms crossed as though this was a victory she had long anticipated. But the smile faded quickly when she saw Sarah beside him, helping to unload the van.

Michael saw the brief flicker of disappointment on his mother’s face, but she recovered quickly, masking it with a more neutral expression. She was expecting this, Michael thought, expecting us to come back here. But the unspoken truth was clear: his mother saw this as more than just a return home. To her, this was a game—a game she was determined to win.

As Michael and Sarah walked up to the house, his mother stepped forward. Her smile was thin, almost predatory. “Michael,” she said warmly, pulling him into a quick hug. “It’s good to have you home.”

“Hi, Mom,” Michael replied, forcing a smile as he pulled away.

His mother’s eyes drifted to Sarah, her smile fading again as if the sight of her spoiled the victory she had envisioned. “Sarah,” she said, her tone polite but distant.

“Hi,” Sarah replied, her voice steady despite the tension already crackling in the air.

“Well, come on inside,” his mother said, waving them toward the door. “Let’s get you settled in.”

As they walked into the house, Michael could feel the weight of his mother’s gaze on him. He had always known this was going to be hard, but now, standing in his parents' house with Sarah by his side, the reality of what they were walking into hit him full force. This wasn’t just a temporary stop. This was a battleground. And his mother had already set the terms.

The basement hadn’t changed much since Michael had left. The furniture was the same, the walls still decorated with childhood memories that now felt foreign and distant. It wasn’t home anymore. At least not for him. But for the foreseeable future, this was where they would be.

They spent the next several hours unloading the moving van, squeezing their furniture and belongings into the cramped space of the basement. It was suffocating in more ways than one. Every piece of furniture they placed felt like a reminder of what they had lost—their independence, their freedom, their sense of security.

Michael’s mother hovered nearby, offering occasional “help” but mostly just watching, her eyes flicking between Michael and Sarah, as if calculating her next move. She had won this round, and they both knew it. But it didn’t mean the game was over.

By the time the van was unloaded and they had said their goodbyes to Sarah’s parents, exhaustion weighed heavily on them both. As Michael and Sarah sat together on the old couch in the basement, the silence between them was thick with unspoken fears. Sarah leaned her head against Michael’s shoulder, her eyes closed.

“This is going to be hard, isn’t it?” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

Michael wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “But we’ll get through it. We always do.”

But deep down, they both knew the truth. This wasn’t just about surviving his mother’s criticisms or enduring the tension between them. This was about holding on to their relationship in a place where every move would be scrutinized, every decision questioned. And it wasn’t just Michael’s mother they were fighting—it was the growing strain between them, the pressure that was pushing them toward something they weren’t sure they could come back from.

For now, all they could do was brace themselves for what was coming.

The next few months passed under a cloud of constant tension. Michael’s mother hardly spoke to Sarah, and when she did, it was only to criticize. Sarah tried to tune it out, but the relentless barrage of negativity wore her down. The stress began to take a visible toll on her—emotionally, mentally, and even physically.

Michael could see it in her eyes, the weariness in her posture. He could feel the growing distance between them, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Each day seemed to chip away at the bright, hopeful woman he had fallen in love with.

On the days Sarah didn’t have work, she would stay at home, trying to ease the situation by helping around the house. She offered to assist Michael’s mom in the kitchen, or clean up wherever it was needed. But no matter what she did, it was never enough. Something was always wrong. You didn’t dust properly, or the vegetables weren’t chopped the way Michael likes them.

Criticism after criticism, every effort Sarah made was met with disdain.

At night, Sarah often went to bed in tears, feeling utterly defeated. She longed for a shred of peace, but it seemed impossible. And while she cried alone in the basement, Michael was often upstairs laughing with his parents, seemingly blind to the strain Sarah was under. He didn’t seem to care anymore. Or maybe he was too overwhelmed by his own burdens to notice hers. Either way, Sarah felt abandoned.

She had tried to talk to him about his mother’s behavior before, but nothing ever changed. She was too exhausted now to keep complaining to Michael, and too weary to hope for a resolution. How had their lives changed so quickly, so drastically?

Only a year ago, they had been planning their wedding, dreaming of traveling the world, talking about the family they would one day have. Now, all of that seemed so far away. They put everything on hold. A distant dream that had slipped from their grasp the moment they stepped back into his parents’ house. And here she was, feeling trapped in a situation she had never imagined for herself.

Meanwhile, Michael had been applying for hundreds of jobs, but the economy was in a deep recession. Every rejection felt like a fresh blow to his already fragile sense of self-worth. He even applied to retail jobs—anything to bring in some money—but no one was hiring. The weight of unemployment hung over him like a dark cloud, and he felt himself sinking deeper into despair.

Seeing how aimless Michael had become, how his sense of purpose had been eroded by the constant failures, Sarah knew something had to change. They couldn’t go on like this.

One evening, after another long day of silence and tension, she sat down with Michael to talk.

“Michael, I’ve been thinking,” she began, her voice calm but serious. “You can’t keep waiting around for the economy to turn around. It’s brutal out there, and I know you’ve been trying, but maybe… maybe it’s time to think about something different.”

Michael looked at her, his exhaustion evident. “Like what? I’ve applied everywhere, Sarah. No one’s hiring. What else am I supposed to do?”

“I was thinking… maybe you could go back to school,” she said cautiously. “You’d qualify for student loans, and they wouldn’t need to be paid back until you’re done. It could give you something to focus on, something that gives you a future again. It’s better than sitting here all day, with your mom constantly in your ear. You need something to get you out of this house, to give you a new purpose.”

Michael stared at her for a long moment. He hadn’t even considered going back to school. The thought of more years spent studying felt exhausting, but Sarah’s suggestion made sense. He couldn’t keep sitting here, drowning in rejection and letting his mother’s influence seep further into his life.

He sighed deeply. “I don’t know, Sarah. I don’t want to burden us with more loans. And what if I can’t find a job after that either?”

Sarah shook her head. “It’s not about burdening us. It’s about giving you options. You’ve always been smart, Michael. You can do this. And IT is a growing field—there’s potential there. You’re interested in it, and this could open up opportunities that you didn’t have before. We’ll get through it together.”

Reluctantly, Michael agreed. They both knew that sitting around waiting for things to improve wasn’t a solution. The next day, they sat down with a college counselor, and Michael filled out a career assessment. When the results came back, they pointed toward information technology, a field Michael had considered years ago. He had always been interested in technology—fixing things, learning how systems worked. He had even thought about pursuing it in college, but like many of his decisions, his mother had overruled him, pushing him into Business instead.

Michael is in a softly lit room, the walls lined with old books. It feels familiar, like a place he’s been before. There’s a man sitting beside him on a couch, close enough that their legs are almost touching. Michael feels a strange sense of calm wash over him, as though this moment has happened before.

The man leans in, whispering something in his ear, though the words are indistinct, lost in a haze. Michael closes his eyes, feeling the warmth of the man’s breath on his neck. Slowly, the man’s hand moves to Michael’s thigh, the touch gentle but full of unspoken intent.

Michael’s breath hitches as the man’s fingers trace slow, deliberate lines across his skin. It feels real, almost too real. He turns to look at the man, but his face remains shrouded in shadow. There’s an intimacy here that Michael can’t explain, but also a deep unease.

Suddenly, the man leans forward and kisses him softly on the lips. It’s brief, just a whisper of a kiss, but it ignites something deep within Michael—something he can’t define. As they pull apart, the man stands and walks toward the door.

Michael watches him leave, a sense of longing washing over him. He wakes up abruptly, his body tense, his mind swirling with questions. Who am I? he asks himself, over and over as the image of the man fades like mist. His mind races, half awake, stressed. Stress of going back to school. Stress of having to confront his mom, yet again. Stress… is all he can think about as he drifts back to sleep.

As they left the counselor’s office, Michael felt a flicker of something he hadn’t felt in months—hope. Maybe going back to school wasn’t what he had planned, but it was a chance to take back control of his life, a way to move forward instead of being stuck in this painful loop of failure and dependence.

“I think this could be good,” Michael said, glancing at Sarah as they walked. “You are right. I need to do something. I need to get out of that house.”

Sarah squeezed his hand, a soft smile on her face. “We’ll figure this out, Michael. One step at a time.”

For the first time in months, they both felt like they were taking a step in the right direction.

When Michael announced that he was going back to school, his mother was less than thrilled. It wasn’t the news she wanted to hear, knowing that she wouldn’t have his undivided attention any longer. For months, she had enjoyed having him close, in her home, where her influence could reach him at every turn. But now, with Michael preparing to re-enter the world outside of her control, she felt her grasp slipping. Still, she was too clever to show her hand just yet. Like a seasoned tactician, she knew when to retreat and when to strike. For now, she stayed quiet, biding her time.

Within weeks, Michael’s student loans were approved, and he was officially set to start school in the fall. As a mature student, his prior university experience and top marks helped smooth his acceptance. The future, though uncertain, began to feel hopeful again.

But just as they were starting to rebuild, another setback hit them hard—this time, more personal and more terrifying.