Chapter 2

My mother's whole face went red.

She'd been honest and decent her entire life, her skin thin as paper.

Driven out so bluntly by her son-in-law's mother, she ducked her head in shame, her hands worrying at the hem of her shirt, her voice small as a mosquito's:

"You're right. I'll go now…"

With that, my mother walked slowly to the door and picked up the luggage on the floor.

Lesley didn't spare her another glance. She looked at me instead and said, as if it were only natural:

"Tony, my mom's getting old. It's time she got to enjoy some comfort."

"From today on, you take care of everything in this house, and you look after my mom. Don't let her lift a finger."

At those words, my mother stopped short.

She turned back to Lesley, her tone humble and full of worry:

"My son works so hard every day. Half the time he's too worn out to even eat or sleep. Where's he going to find the time or the energy to do housework and wait on an elderly woman…"

Cast aside the moment she was no longer useful, thrown out on the spot, and my mother hadn't said one word for herself.

But the instant she saw me being wronged, her eyes went red with heartache.

Tabitha gave a cold snort.

"Country people always make such a fuss."

"What son-in-law doesn't honor his mother-in-law? All I'm asking is that he provide for me in my old age. Isn't that only right?"

Lesley nodded along.

"Exactly. A man who settles down and starts a family, waiting on his mother-in-law is only natural."

"These eighteen years, my mom was being generous. For the child's sake, she let it slide."

"Now the kid's in college and hardly comes home. It's about time Tony did his part. We can't keep coddling him."

My mother opened her mouth, wanting to say something more for me.

But I cut in ahead of her, nodding to Lesley and Tabitha.

"You're both right."

"I really should do my part."

Seeing how readily I agreed, Lesley looked at me the way you'd look at a child who'd finally learned some sense.

Tabitha crossed her arms and smiled, satisfied.

"Good that you understand."

Only my mother stared at me, disbelieving, her eyes full of confusion.

I explained nothing. I just quietly took the luggage from her hands and walked her out the door.

For eighteen years, my mother had carried this family on her back, never resting a single day.

She really did deserve to go home and rest.

After I saw her off at the train station, she looked at me with tears in her eyes, worry pooling there.

"Tony, you can barely keep up with your own career as it is. How are you going to manage from now on…"

I smiled. "Don't worry, Mom. I can handle it."

The tears spilled down her cheeks.

"It's all my fault, being useless, no help to you…"

I wiped them away for her.

"Mom, you've helped me more than enough."

"The rest of the road, I'll walk on my own."

I've never been a man who goes looking for trouble.

But I'm sure as hell not a pushover to be trampled on either.

I knew my mother-in-law had faked that back pain for eighteen years for one reason: she didn't want to handle Lesley's postpartum care, didn't want to raise the child, didn't want to tire herself out for one second.

Eighteen years of scheming. I would collect on every bit of it, with interest.