A year ago, my husband left our family. He simply walked out, saying he had met another woman whom he truly loved. He told me he was tired of me, that he probably never loved me, and now he had found real feelings and a new family.
He paid no attention to the fact that I couldn’t yet return to work—our youngest son was only a year and a half old. The older one was in preschool, and we were barely making ends meet. I only have one sibling, my sister, who lives in another city.
“Don’t worry about it. You’ll manage,” my mother-in-law said at the time. “The apartment is yours, so at least you won’t be homeless. Be thankful my son is paying you child support.”
Yes, he did pay—exactly one-quarter of his official salary.
He didn’t file for divorce, and I simply didn’t have time to: two small children, freelance work to make any money, and constant exhaustion.
My mother-in-law would visit the kids about once a month. Sometimes she brought them some fruit.
Their father played no part in their upbringing, declaring he was planning to have other children now.
We lived like that for a year, barely scraping by.
At the end of the year, a spot opened up at the daycare, and my youngest could finally attend. I went back to work, and things got a little easier.
“David is going to be a father soon,” my mother-in-law cheerfully informed me over the phone one day. She added, “You should hurry and file for divorce. I don’t want my grandchild to be born out of wedlock.”
As I understood it, my husband’s new partner was eight weeks pregnant. I went to court and filed for divorce.
A week later, my husband was in a car accident. He always loved speed and taking risks, and this time it caught up with him.
The car—purchased during our marriage, incidentally—was beyond repair. My husband ended up in the hospital with multiple injuries. The worst part was that doctors said he might never walk again.
My mother-in-law cried over the phone, and I genuinely felt sorry for her. He was still technically my husband. But then she made a shocking request:
“You need to take David home and take care of him,” she said.
“Me? Excuse me, why me?” I was stunned.
“You’re his wife. You’re still married,” she replied. “His girlfriend had an abortion yesterday. She didn’t want to raise a child with a man who’s disabled. But you’re his wife—you must do it!”
Indeed, the divorce hadn’t gone through yet. The proceedings were postponed due to his hospitalization.
I told her that my duties as a wife had ended the moment her son walked out on me and our children without a backward glance. He hadn’t cared that I was on maternity leave with no income, nor had he attempted to see his children for a whole year.
“He left me, betrayed me, and abandoned his children,” I said. “The fact that we’re still technically married is a coincidence that will soon be resolved. Besides, David still has his real mom, who loves her son so much.”
“Are you suggesting I take care of him?” my mother-in-law asked. “I already did my duty when he was a child. It’s your job now, you heartless woman. I’ll make sure your children know their mother abandoned their father when he became disabled.”
Now, it seems I’ve abandoned him, not the other way around.
My mother-in-law did take him from the hospital. Though his recovery is slow and uncertain, doctors are no longer as pessimistic. And yes, we finally divorced.
Now, my former mother-in-law goes around town telling anyone who will listen:
“Here I am, an old woman, taking care of my sick son! His wife didn’t even care. She turned her back on him, leaving him and their children. This is what wives are like nowadays! They love their husbands as long as they’re healthy and bringing in money. The moment he’s disabled—back to his mother he goes.”
Many people sympathize with her, nodding in agreement. They even tell me I acted irresponsibly. Yet, when my husband was healthy, I was the one he didn’t need.
My friend suggests selling my apartment and moving far away, and my sister has invited me to live with her in her city. I think I’ll do that.
What would you advise me to do?