“Because they were yours, Mommy. Because you made them with your hands. I couldn’t.”
Her voice broke.
For the first time since I arrived, I saw her cry. I hugged her. I felt her small, fragile, trembling body in my arms. And I knew something terrible had been happening for these eight years.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because you were in New York. Because you were working so hard. Because I didn’t want to worry you.”
“And why?”
“Because I thought I could handle it. I thought if I tried harder, if I did everything perfectly, she would accept me. He would love me like before.”
Like before.
She pulled away from me and wiped her tears with the back of her hand.
“In the beginning, when we got married, Robert was different. He was affectionate, attentive. He brought me flowers. He told me I was beautiful. But little by little… little by little, he changed. He started coming home late, not talking to me, treating me like I was invisible. And Carol… Carol started giving me orders, criticizing me, telling me that I wasn’t good enough for her son, that I came from a poor family, that I should be grateful they had accepted me.”
Every word was a knife in my chest.
“And Robert, does he defend you?”
Brenda looked down.
“He… he says I should be more patient with his mom. That she’s just like that. That she doesn’t mean any harm. That I’m too sensitive.”
“But you heard her, Brenda. I heard her myself. She called you useless.”
“She… she was mad because I hadn’t finished cleaning on time. Some important guests were coming. She needed everything to be perfect.”
She was justifying her. Defending the very woman who was humiliating her.
And that scared me more than anything else.
“Brenda, listen to me carefully. This is not right. What is happening here is not normal. It’s not love.”
“You don’t understand, Mommy. They are different. They are on another level. They have other customs. I have to adapt.”
“Adapt? Does that include being treated like a servant?”
“I’m not their servant. I’m Robert’s wife.”
“Then where is your husband? Why isn’t he here with you right now? Why isn’t he protecting you?”
She didn’t answer, because she had no answer.
We heard footsteps in the hallway. Brenda immediately tensed up.
“It’s Carol,” she whispered. “Please, Mommy, don’t make a scene. I don’t want trouble.”
“Trouble, Brenda? There is already trouble.”
“Please.”
She looked at me with those pleading eyes. And even though everything in me wanted to go downstairs and confront that woman, even though I wanted to scream what I thought, I held myself back, because I needed time. I needed to understand the whole picture. I needed to know exactly what had been happening for these eight years.
And above all, I needed a plan.
Because I hadn’t come back from New York just to watch my daughter suffer. I had come back to save her.
And that was exactly what I was going to do.
The door opened. Carol appeared with a fake smile.
“Everything all right in here? Robert just arrived. He’s downstairs. He wants to greet his mother-in-law.”
His mother-in-law. She said it as if the word burned her mouth.
“Let’s go,” I said to Brenda, taking her hand. “We’ll go down together.”
And when I saw Robert in the living room, dressed in his expensive suit with his gold watch, with his perfect empty smile, I knew exactly what kind of man he was.
The kind of man who allows his mother to destroy his wife. The kind of man who chooses comfort over love. The kind of man I was going to take everything from.
But no one knew that yet. Not even I knew how far I was capable of going.
As I tell all this, I think about where you might be listening to me. Write the name of your city in the comments.
Robert approached with open arms and a smile that looked like it came out of a magazine ad.
“Mother-in-law, what a wonderful surprise. Brenda didn’t tell us you were coming.”
