James and I had been married for seven years. From the very day of our wedding, I agreed to live with my mother-in-law, Mrs. Edith, a woman who had suffered a stroke, was paralyzed on one side, and needed constant care for every meal and nap. At first, I thought it would be simpleshe was my mother-in-law, I was her daughter-in-law, and looking after her was simply my duty.
But I never imagined how long that responsibility would stretch and the hardest part was that it came from the one person who should have shared it with me: my husband, James.
James worked during the day, and in the evenings, he was glued to his phone. He often said, *”You take better care of Mum than I do. If I try, shell only suffer more.”* I never held it against him.
I thought that was just how life wasthe wife runs the home, the husband earns the living. But then I discovered James wasnt just at work he had someone else.
One day, I stumbled across a message: *”Ill come again tonight. Being with you is a thousand times better than being at home.”* I didnt scream, I didnt cry, I didnt make a scene.
I simply asked quietly, *”And what about your mother, the one youve neglected all these years?”* James said nothing. The next day, he left. I knew exactly where hed gone.
I looked at Mrs. Edith, the woman who once criticised every bite I ate, every nap I took, who said I *”wasnt fit to be her daughter-in-law,”* and a lump formed in my throat. I wanted to walk away. But then I reminded myselfa person must always keep their dignity.
A week later, I called James. *”Are you free? Im bringing your mother to stay with you.”*
I packed her medicines, medical reports, and an old notebook tracking her care into a cloth bag. That evening, I helped her into her wheelchair and said gently, *”Mum, Im taking you to stay with James for a few days. Its boring being in the same place all the time.”* She nodded, her eyes bright like a childs.
At the small flat, I rang the bell. James opened the door, and behind him stood the other woman, in a silk nightgown and lipstick as red as roses. I wheeled Mrs. Edith into the living room, arranged the blankets and pillows, and set the bag of medicines on the table.
The flat reeked of perfume, but it was cold and silent. James stammered, *”What what are you doing?”*
I smiled sweetly. *”Remember? Mum is yours. Im only your daughter-in-law. I cared for her seven years thats enough.”* The woman behind him went pale, a spoonful of yoghurt frozen halfway to her mouth.
I turned calmly, as if finishing a long-planned task. *”Heres her medical history, prescriptions, nappies, pads, and cream for her sores. Ive written all the dosages in the notebook.”*
I left the notebook on the table and turned to leave. James raised his voice. *”Youre abandoning my mother? Thats cruel!”*
I stopped, not turning back, and answered in a steady tone, *”You neglected her for seven years whats that, if not cruelty? I cared for her like my own familynot for you, but because shes a mother. Now Im leaving, not for revenge, but because Ive done my part as a human being.”*
I looked at the other woman and met her eyes, smiling faintly. *”If you love him, love him completely. This comes with the package.”*
Then, I placed the house deeds on the table. *”The house is in my name alone. Im taking nothing. He only took his clothes. But if you ever need money to care for Mum, Ill still contribute.”*
I bent down and stroked my mother-in-laws hair one last time. *”Mum, behave here. If you get sad, Ill come see you.”*
Mrs. Edith smiled, her voice shaky. *”Yes come see me when youre home again.”*
I walked out, closing the door behind me. The room fell silent, thick with perfume and massage oil. That night, I slept in peace, without dreams. The next morning, I rose early, took my son out for breakfast, and embraced a fresh startno tears, no bitterness.
