My husband moved in with his mistress. In silence, I picked up my bedridden mother-in-law and took her to him. Before leaving, I said something that left them both pale…
My husband moved in with his lover. In silence, I lifted my mother-in-law, who was lying in bed, and took her to him. Before leaving, I said something that made them both pale…
Miguel and I had been married for seven years. Our marriage wasn’t a fairy tale, but I always fought for our son, for the home he had chosen.
From the day we got married, I accepted to live with my mother-in-law, Doña Carmen, a woman who had suffered a stroke, was paralyzed on one side and needed attention for every meal and every night of sleep.
At first, I thought it would be simple: she was my mother-in-law, I was her mother, and taking care of her was my duty.
But I didn’t expect that burden to last so long, and the most painful thing was that it came from the person who was supposed to share it with me: my husband, Miguel.
Miguel would go to work and, when he returned home at night, he would stay glued to his phone. I took care of his mother alone, giving her food, water, and medicine. He always said:
—You take better care of Mom than I do. If I do it, she’ll suffer more.
And I didn’t blame him.
I thought it was simple: the wife takes care of the house, the husband of work. But then I discovered that Miguel didn’t just go to work. He had another woman.
Everything came to light when I saw a message:
—I’m going out again tonight. Being with you is a thousand times more fun than being at home.
I didn’t scream, or cry. I didn’t cause a scene.
Simply the pregυпté coп dυlzυra:
—And what are you going to do about your mother, whom you have ignored all these years?
Miguel kept silent. The next day, he moved.
I knew he had gone to live with that woman. Despite my calls and messages, he didn’t answer. Doña Carmen, lying in her bedroom bed, didn’t know anything. She still believed that her son was busy with work and would return in a few days.
I looked at her, that woman who once criticized every bite I ate and every nap I took, and who told me that “I wasn’t worthy to be her wife.” I felt a lump in my throat.
I wanted to leave it all behind, but I told myself: I have to preserve my dignity.
A week later, I called Miguel.
—Are you free? I’m going to take you to your mother so you can take care of her.
On the other side of the line there was silence for a few seconds, and then he hung up.
That afternoon, in silence, I cleaned Doña Carmen, changed her clothes and folded her sheets.
I put her medications, her hospital papers, and her old medical history in a cloth bag. That night, I put her in a wheelchair and said to her gently:
—Mom, I’m going to take you to Miguel’s house for a few days so you can get a change of scenery. Being in the same place all the time is boring.
She nodded gently, her eyes shining like a pineapple’s. She had no idea that she was about to be “returned” to her own son, the same one who had decided to abandon her.
When we arrived at a small apartment, I rang the bell. Miguel opened the door and inside was the other woman, wearing a silk nightgown and red lipstick.
She was speechless when she saw me pushing the wheelchair, with Doña Carmen seated in it, with a cheerful expression. I carefully pushed the chair into the living room, arranged the mats and pillows, and placed the medicine cabinet on the table.
The house smelled of perfume, but it laughed in icy silence. Miguel stammered:
—What are you doing?
I smiled gently.
—Don’t you remember? Mom is yours. I’m just your mother. I took care of her for seven years, and that’s enough.
The woman behind Miguel, pale, was still holding a spoonful of yogurt that she had not yet put in her mouth.
He glanced quickly at the wheelchair and Doña Carmen, who was still trying to understand what was happening and smiling hypocritically at the sight of her son. Miguel approached clumsily and tried to grab my hand to stop me.
I moved aside, calm as if I had finished a task I had planned for a long time.
—Here are the medical records, the monthly prescriptions, the diapers, the sanitary pads, and the cream for the spots. I wrote down all the doses in the notebook.
I left the notebook on the table and turned to leave. Miguel approached, raising his voice noticeably.
—Are you going to abandon my mother? What you’re doing is inhuman!
I stopped without turning around. I remained motionless for a few seconds and then answered in a low voice:
—You ignored her for seven years. What do you call that?
—I took care of her as if she were my own family, not for you, yes, not because she’s a mother. But now I’m leaving, not out of spite.
—I alone… have already done my part as a human being.
I turned around and looked directly into the other woman’s eyes, smiling gently.
—If you love him, love him completely. That’s the deal.
Then I took out a document that certified the ownership of the house and put it on the table.
—The house is in my name. I’m not taking anything. He only took his clothes. But if in the future he needs money for Mom’s medical expenses, I’ll contribute a bit.
—Because it is a sacred place.
Then I became withdrawn and stroked my mother-in-law’s hair for the last time.
—Mom, behave yourself. If you feel sad, I’ll come for you…
Doña Carmen smiled with a trembling voice.
—Yes, come see me when you get home…
I left the apartment.
The door closed behind me, leaving a room in silence where the scent of perfume mingled with that of massage oil. That night I slept soundly, without dreams.
The next morning, I woke up early and took my son to breakfast. A new beginning, no tears, no resentment, only the peace of a woman who had given all her love and had learned to let go at the precise moment.
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