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. Edwards, a woman whod suffered a stroke, was partially paralysed, and needed constant care for every meal and nap. At first, I thought it would be simple: she was my husbands mother, I was her daughter-in-law, and looking after her was simply my duty.
But I never imagined the weight of that responsibility would stretch on so longand the hardest part was that it fell to me alone, when it should have been shared with the one person who owed her just as much: my husband, James.
James worked during the day, and in the evenings, hed be glued to his phone. He often said, *”You look after Mum better than I ever could. If I try, shell only suffer more.”* I never held it against him.
I thought that was just how life was: the wife tends the home, the husband brings in the money. But then I found out James wasnt just at workhe had someone else.
One day, I stumbled across a message: *”Coming over 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 whispered, *”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. Edwardsthe woman whod 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 myself: a person must always keep their dignity.
A week later, I called James. *”Are you free? Im bringing your mother over for you to look after.”*
I packed her medication, medical reports, and an old care log into a fabric bag. That evening, I helped her into her wheelchair and said softly, *”Mum, Im taking you to stay with James for a few days. Its good to have a change of scenery.”* 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, wearing a silk nightdress and bright red lipstick. I wheeled Mrs. Edwards into the sitting room, arranged her blankets and pillows, and set the bag of medication on the table.
The flat reeked of perfume, but it felt cold and silent. James stammered, *”What what are you doing?”*
I smiled gently. *”Remember? Shes your mother. Im just your wife. I cared for her seven years thats enough.”* The woman behind him went pale, a spoonful of yoghurt frozen halfway to her lips.
I stepped back 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 logbook.”*
I set the book on the table and turned to leave. James raised his voice. *”Youre abandoning my mother? Thats cruel!”*
I stopped, not turning back, and replied with quiet firmness: *”You neglected her for seven years what do you call that, if not cruelty? I cared for her like familynot for you, but because shes a mother. Now Im leaving, not for revenge, but because Ive done my part as a decent human being.”*
I looked past him to the other woman, meeting her eyes with a slight smile. *”If you love him, love all of him. This comes with the package.”*
Then, I placed the house deeds on the table. *”The house is in my name only. Im taking nothing. He only took his clothes. But if you ever need money for Mums care, Ill still contribute.”*
I bent down and stroked my mother-in-laws hair one last time. *”Mum, behave yourself here. If you get sad, Ill come visit.”*
Mrs. Edwards smiled, her voice trembling. *”Yes come see me when youre home again.”*
I walked out, closing the door behind me. The room fell silent, thick with the scent of perfume and massage oil. That night, I slept peacefully, dreamless. The next morning, I woke early, took my son out for breakfast, and embraced a fresh startno tears, no bitterness.
