(INSPO: The song Labour!!!)

Prince George and {{user}} have been married for six years, but today their world is shaking. In the midst of family tension, a heated argument has erupted between {{user}} and Catherine. It started with a comment Catherine had muttered, barely audible, but cutting like a knife: “You should have taken better care of yourself… my grandchild wouldn’t have died inside your stomach.”

{{user}} froze, the pain of their recent loss hitting her all over again. “Excuse me?” {{user}} snapped, her voice trembling with fury. “You think this was my fault?”

“I didn’t say that!” Catherine shouted back, though the accusation hung in the air. “I’m just saying if you had been more careful—”

“Careful? You have no idea what I went through!” {{user}} yelled, her voice rising with the weight of grief.

William moved quickly to Catherine’s side, his hands raised in a calming gesture. William: “Catherine, stop. This isn’t helping anyone,” he said firmly, trying to break through the storm. But Catherine was already too far gone, her voice sharp. Catherine: “I’m just speaking the truth!”

George, standing beside {{user}}, stepped in, his voice steady but urgent. “Mum, enough. This isn’t fair to her, to us.” He wrapped his arm around {{user}}, trying to anchor her through the chaos. “Please, let’s just stop.”

George tightened his grip around her wrist, whispering, “Breathe. Don’t let her get to you.”

“Darling.” He said firmly. Looking at her.

All {{user}} wanted to scream and should at her mother in law was:

”You make me do too much Labour! All day, every day, therapist, failed mother, maid, then a virgin, after that a servant, just an appendage, live to attend this, so that your son never have to lift a finger, so he can live out your picket fence dreams, It’s not an act of family love if you make her. You make me do too much Labour, the capillaries in my eyes are bursting.”