**Iron Lady: The Price of Success**
“You’re a career woman—a child would just get in your way. Admit it, and life will be easier for everyone!”
Katherine had known from childhood that she was destined for greatness. Her mother, Helen Evans, was a gentle, kind woman whose life had dissolved into caring for five children. She gave up her career, and Katherine, watching her, felt nothing but contempt. Helen, with her absent-minded smile, was adored by her husband and sons, who showered her with flowers. But Katherine, the only daughter, felt like a stranger in this warm family nest.
“You’re so cold, Kathy,” her mother sighed. “Let me braid your hair, like when you were little?”
“I’ll do it myself,” Katherine snapped, though her hairstyles always ended up messy. “And I need to study—stop distracting me!”
“At least go out with friends,” Helen pleaded. “Your father and I don’t expect straight A’s. Help me in the kitchen—I’ll teach you to make shepherd’s pie. Your dad loves it.”
“All you care about is stuffing your faces!” Katherine shot back. “No wonder you’re as round as a barrel!”
“Standing at the stove all day,” her mother muttered in defense. “Tasting here, nibbling there—the weight just piles on.”
Katherine only scoffed. She kept herself in an iron grip—rigid discipline, a strict routine. Not a single indulgence. That unyielding will earned her top marks at school and a place at a prestigious university in Manchester.
At university, Katherine was a star. The demanding engineering course didn’t intimidate her—she outshone everyone. The lads smirked, certain she’d marry and abandon her ambitions. But Katherine had no intention of surrendering. In her final year, she met Anthony. Their wedding was modest—just a registry office signing.
“I don’t need grand celebrations,” she told her husband. “But you must promise to support me. And you’ll be the one taking paternity leave. I can’t waste time on children—this is my chance to build a career.”
“Kathy, our mums would love grandchildren—they’d help,” Anthony argued.
“Both our mothers are housewives with no ambition!” she snapped. “I won’t trust them with a child. We’ll manage on our own.”
“I want a career too,” Anthony said, hurt. “I’m not just your intellectual inferior. We could split the leave—compromise.”
“I hate that word!” Katherine waved him off. “No sacrifices.”
After graduation, Katherine was rejected by her dream company. It was a blow to her pride, especially when Anthony effortlessly landed the job she wanted—and even secured a research grant. She doubled down, working obsessively while others slacked. Six months later, her competitors dropped out, and she took their place—not as an intern but as a full employee. At the interview, the middle-aged male manager smirked,
“Sweetheart, if you vanish into maternity leave in a year, that won’t suit us.”
“I intend to take your chair,” Katherine replied with an icy smile. “You won’t regret hiring me.”
She kept her word, grinding herself to the bone, but instead of support, she got reproach. Her mother-in-law, Margaret, made no secret of her disdain: “Career, career—when will you focus on family?” Katherine gradually cut ties. Then, she found out she was pregnant.
The birth coincided with a crucial meeting. The next day, Katherine was already working from her hospital bed. After discharge, the question arose: who would care for their son, Liam?
“You promised!” she lashed out at Anthony. “Now you’re backing out! You’re ruining my business trip!”
“Kathy, he’s a baby,” Anthony sighed. “He needs his mother—milk, not me. Where’s your maternal instinct? Be a woman for once!”
“How dare you?!” she exploded.
“Fine, I’ll stay,” he relented. “But I’m calling in help when I need it.”
Katherine dismissed him, already arranging her trip. She left Liam in his cot without a second glance. Pregnancy had been a project—balanced meals, exercise, a fully planned childhood.
When she returned a week later, she heard Margaret’s caustic voice:
“Look who’s back—our little cuckoo. Off to work again without a glance at your son? Why bother? We’re managing fine.”
“What are you on about?” Katherine stormed into the nursery.
“Where’s the lie?” Margaret sneered. “Unless you’re the brooding type, not the cuckoo?”
“Where’s Anthony?” Katherine snapped. “He’s supposed to be with Liam, not dump him on you. What do you even call a male cuckoo? Should we nickname your son too?”
“Cheeky,” Margaret smirked. “A ‘thank you’ for my help wouldn’t hurt.”
“For what?” Katherine shot back. “You’re doing brilliantly. Carry on.”
Liam’s birth only fueled her ambition. She clawed her way up, sacrificing everything. Days were for meetings, nights for reports. Anthony tried to be a father, but Katherine found no joy in motherhood.
“Auntie, give!” Liam once said at a year old.
“What did he call me?” Katherine froze. “Did you teach him that? I told you to keep your mother away!”
“What do you expect?” Anthony sighed. “You’re at work round the clock—home only when he’s asleep. He sees you once a month, in photos. Should I buy him a portrait?”
“That’s unfair!” she flared.
“What’s changed?” Anthony shrugged. “Your family is your job. Liam and I are just props for your image.”
“That’s not true!” she shouted. “Give him to me! He’ll know who his mother is! You’re raising him wrong!”
Silently, Anthony handed Liam over. Katherine fumbled, holding him. He squirmed, yanked her hair, tearing out a chunk. She yelped, thrust him back like a hazard, and fled to the salon before work.
Another year passed. Katherine occasionally noticed Liam learning to speak, to use a spoon. But one late return, the house was silent. A note under the sugar bowl read: *We’ve gone to Mum’s. Tired of waiting for you to remember your family.*
Furious, she grabbed her phone.
“You’re punishing me?!” she screamed. “This is cruel! Everything I did was for us!”
“You were never here,” Anthony said coldly. “I’m done carrying us alone. If Liam needs me to quit my career, I will. You chose work. We’re not husband and wife—just strangers in your cold flat. Face it—you’re a terrible mother and wife.”
“That’s a lie!” She punched the wall.
“Be honest with yourself,” Anthony said wearily. “I’m filing for divorce. Will your lawyer show up instead of you?”
“You’re making me out as some neglectful cuckoo?!” she roared. “Trying to ruin my reputation? I’ll fight for Liam to the end! If you don’t come back, nannies will raise him, and you’ll see him when I allow it!”
“Kathy, wake up,” he cut in. “To you, he’s just a line on your CV.”
She hired the best solicitor. At work, whispers spread—their “Iron Lady” was waging war on her husband. Anthony didn’t bar her from Liam, but the boy clung to his dad, eyeing her warily. Soon, she stopped visiting.
In court, armed with documents, she was certain of victory—until, glancing outside, she saw Anthony and Liam playing in the courtyard. They kicked a pinecone, laughing, leaping like children. Her breath caught; words died in her throat.
When Anthony was called in, he scooped up Liam, who buried his face in his father’s hair. Anthony’s face was etched with pain and fear.
“Stop,” Katherine told her solicitor. “I want a settlement.”
“You’re serious?” Anthony stared. “No more fighting?”
She said nothing. She left Liam with him, covering his expenses and paying her former mother-in-law as his nanny. Anthony remarried; his new wife is expecting. Katherine sees Liam on holidays and rare weekends. He calls her by name—but he waits for those visits.