There was a knock at the door. I opened it, and there stood my mother-in-law, drenched to the bone, her eyes swollen from cryingturns out, the mistress had taken every last penny.
Fifteen years ago, Victor and I got married. Back then, his mother made it crystal clear wed never be friends. I accepted it. We built our life together, but children took their time. Ten years of waiting, hoping, praying until life finally blessed usfirst came Oliver, then Sophie.
Life wasnt unkind. Victor climbed the ranks as a director at a big firm. I got to focus on the kids, take maternity leave, and dive headfirst into family life. My own mum was miles away in another city, so help wasnt exactly on hand. And the mother-in-law? Well, in fifteen years, her attitude toward me never shifted an inch. To her, Id always been a “gold-digger,” some sly woman who stole her son. In her dreams, Victor shouldve married the “proper girl”the one shed handpicked. But Victor chose me.
We carried on, raised our kids, and I ignored her icy stares. Then, one day, it all fell apart.
I remember every detail of that day. Wed just got back from a walk, the kids were kicking off their shoes in the hallway, and I went to put the kettle on. Thats when I spotted a note on the side table. Just stepping closer sent a chill down my spine. The house felt eerily empty. Victors things were gone.
Scrawled on the paper in messy handwriting, hed written:
*”Forgive me. It happenedI fell for someone else. Dont look for me. Youre strong; youll manage. Its for the best.”*
His phone was off. Not a call, not a text. Hed just vanished. Left me alonewith two little ones clinging to me.
I didnt know where he was or who this “someone else” was. Desperate, I rang his mum. I wanted answers, maybe even comfort. Instead, what I got was:
This is all your fault. Her voice dripped with smugness.I always knew itd end like this. You shouldve seen it coming.
I was speechless. What had I done? Why did they hate me so much? But there was no time for blameI had the kids and barely any money. Victor hadnt left a single pound.
I couldnt workno one to watch the children. Then I remembered an old side gig, proofreading uni essays. Thats how we scraped by. Every day, a fight just to keep food on the table. Six monthsnot a whisper from Victor.
One autumn evening, as I tucked the kids into bed, there was an insistent knock at the door. Whod be round this late? Neighbours?
I opened itand nearly stumbled back.
There she was. My mother-in-law. A wreck, soaked through, face streaked with tears.
Can I come in? she whispered, and without thinking, I stepped aside.
We sat in the kitchen. Between sobs, she spilled everything. Victors “new love” was a con artist. Shed emptied his accounts, saddled him with debt, and vanished with anything valuable.
Victor was left penniless. The mistresss promises were lies, their futurea fantasy. Even his mum had lost everythingshed remortgaged her flat for him, and now the bank was threatening to evict her.
Weve got nothing left she whimpered.Please help me. Ive nowhere to go
She looked at me like a beaten dog, begging to stay, even just for a few days.
My fists clenched. My head throbbed with questions. I remembered every cutting remark, every scornful glance, the years Id felt like an outsider in my own family. And now she wanted my help?
Part of me wanted to throw it back in her face. To snap, *”Figure it out yourself!”* But another partthe bit that still believed in love, in kindness, in my kidswouldnt let me be that cruel.
I stayed quiet. My eyes burned.
What do you choose? Revenge or mercy?
While I decided, I stood up, made tea, and slid a cup in front of her.
Because sometimes, being human means choosing not with your heartbut with your conscience.
