Since Michael and Sarah returned for a hometown childbirth, “Please leave,” my mother-in-law stated in a chilly voice. “My eldest son and his wife are due in three days. Me—leave?” I asked, confused and stunned.

“Yes. We don’t need another mother figure anymore. You’ve been redundant for a while now. Michael and his family will be living here, so make sure you’re out by tomorrow,” she continued.

I knew I was never truly accepted into the family since the day I got married—treated as a wife, never. But I never imagined they would tell me to leave.

“You barren failure. You were allowed to experience raising a child—be grateful. We have no obligation to support you anymore. It seems like Simon is tired of you too.”

“What? Simon too?” I asked.

I, Anna Thompson, gulped down my saliva. If it’s not a conspiracy between my mother-in-law and Michael, then I don’t need to stand on ceremony with my husband anymore. Foolish to drive me out, but it was my mother-in-law who ignited this. What happens to this house now is none of my concern. May they face the reality they have ignored squarely.

Personally, I’m Anna Thompson, forty-five years old, living with my husband and mother-in-law in a popular area close to the station. The access to the city center is superb.

When house-hunting, my picky husband—recently promoted to a managerial position—insisted on a spacious apartment. The rent was steep, but the space and rooms made it worth the stretch.

My husband, Simon, eight years my senior, a divorcé I met through a friend’s introduction, comforted me with the enveloping kindness unique to an older man. We decided to get married after two years of dating. Even when I told him about my infertility due to past illness, his affection did not waver. Likewise, my feelings remained unchanged when I learned of the circumstances he carried.

My husband had a son named Michael from his previous marriage.

“I’m truly sorry to ask you, who have never been married, to live with my parents and son. I won’t make you suffer—I’ll ensure you’re happy.”

That was the promise he made to me.

To prevent me from feeling suffocated, my husband suggested moving to a spacious apartment where I could have my own room.

“Michael, turning ten this year, won’t need much care with my mom around. You don’t have to push yourself.”

After his divorce, my husband got help with childcare from his parents at their home. A few years later, Simon’s father passed away in an accident, and it seemed his mother took over as Michael’s caretaker.

From the first meeting, Michael wouldn’t even make eye contact with me. I thought it might be his shy nature—approaching a difficult age—so I didn’t worry. As long as they accepted me as a member of the household, I was content.

My mother-in-law was a quiet and refined person. When I visited to formally introduce myself after our engagement, she treated me with such politeness that I thought we would get along fine living together.

“I’ll continue to prepare the meals as I have been. Simon comes home late, so it’s okay if we eat at different times, right, Anna? I’ll leave the cleaning and laundry to you. All right, let’s work well together.”

After getting married, I switched from a full-time employee at the pharmacy to a part-timer due to the division of household chores. I started work a bit later in the morning, so I wouldn’t get home until nearly 8:00 p.m. Dinner was always ready when I arrived, making me feel good about living together.

My mother-in-law and Michael usually had dinner before I got home, so I was always eating alone. Even after getting married, I sometimes felt a sense of “is this it?” But I came to accept that this was our family style.

From the beginning, my mother-in-law never really liked me and didn’t consider me part of the family at all.

“Michael, the school’s activity day is before summer, right? When is it? We’re all going to see you sometime,” I said after getting married, trying to break the ice with Michael, who still hadn’t warmed up to me.

“No, I mean—” Michael faltered, but my mother-in-law interjected.

“We’ll go there, just Simon and me. Anna, you don’t need to worry about it.”

I misunderstood her words, thinking she was just being considerate.

“I can get the day off work. Let’s all go together.”

“You don’t need that. You’re Simon’s wife, and Michael’s family has always been just Simon and me.”

I was lightly—no, quite—shocked. When I brought it up with my husband at night, he said, “Mom’s been clinging to Michael. She probably thinks you’re trying to take him away. I’ll talk to her eventually.”

I began to join as a mother at the activity day, but Michael and I rarely spent any time together outside of school events. Sometimes I could tell Michael wanted to say something, but my mother-in-law always cut in between us.

I later found out that she had been badmouthing me to Michael.

“Anna said she could be happy with Simon if Michael weren’t around. She’s a terrible person. Dad must be deceived by her too.”

If a boy in his formative years hears such things, it wouldn’t be strange for him to distrust me. It was a sickening story, but at that time I hadn’t imagined that my mother-in-law could do such a thing.

After graduating high school, Michael immediately moved in with his girlfriend and left home. As soon as he started college, a year after he started working, he married her without a ceremony.

Once Michael moved out, my mother-in-law surprisingly stopped doing housework altogether. Instead, it seemed that picking on me had become her sole entertainment.

She stopped cooking, which she used to do before, and now just sat at the dining table waiting for me to come home. Without a moment to sit down, I would stand in the kitchen and prepare dinner.

“You’re really inefficient—at this rate, it’ll take you all night.”

I was never good at cooking, partly because I had always relied on my mother-in-law to prepare the meals. Whenever I did manage to cook, she would taste each dish and invariably complain.

“This tastes awful.”

“I’m sorry, I’m trying my best.”

“You’re astonishingly tone-deaf when it comes to flavors, Anna. It’s a good thing Michael never had to eat this—how terrible.”

If she thought so, she might as well make it herself, but it seemed she just wanted to complain to me. Not just about the meals—she started nitpicking everything from the cleaning I never used to do to the laundry.

“Why are there so many wrinkles on the laundry? You have to vacuum every nook and cranny. You really can’t do anything right. Didn’t your family teach you anything?”

With that, my mother-in-law sighed while looking at me, belittling even my family. I clenched my fists in frustration.

“I don’t know how you won over Simon, but I can’t see much charm in you as a woman.”

And she always concluded with the same line:

“If you hadn’t come, Michael would have never left.”

I understood that there was a gaping hole in her heart since Michael had left—maybe it was what they call empty nest syndrome. If taking it out on me made her feel better, that’s what I told myself to endure it.

But her bullying took on new energy after a certain event.

That event was the pregnancy announcement for Michael’s wife, Sarah.

The joy my mother-in-law exhibited was unlike anything I had seen before.

“It’s Michael’s baby—it’s bound to be adorable. Yeah, he’ll be my first grandchild.”

Watching the two of them rejoice, I was happy too, but my mother-in-law’s excitement was beyond normal—probably because Michael asked her, “Grandma, can Sarah have our baby at your place?”

Sarah’s family home is an hour away by plane, and since they have no one else to rely on here, they turned to us for help preparing for the baby.

Of course, my mother-in-law wouldn’t dream of turning down Michael’s request.

The phone calls from Michael started to become frequent, and her excitement went through the roof. The next day after getting the news, she started preparing enthusiastically—from cleaning out Michael’s room to preparing the bedding and making a list of baby items. It was like she had grandchild fever.

Naturally, I had to get involved too.

When I returned from work—“Anna, I vacuumed Michael’s room, so you need to wipe the floors and the windows, and please wax them too. This weekend we’re going to the department store to look at baby cribs.”

Cleaning and waxing at night was tough, especially after a long day at work. If I even thought about cutting corners, I’d be told to do it over again.

Moreover, my mother-in-law started asking for money, and before I knew it, the house was overflowing with baby stuff.

“Anna, I need you to withdraw some money tomorrow. There are things I want to get ready for the baby.”

“Again? Isn’t it wasteful to prepare so much when Sarah and Michael haven’t even arrived? Shouldn’t we wait and choose together with them?”

I had wanted to meet my mother-in-law’s requests, but I was troubled by the relentless spending.

“How can you be so cold? It’s Simon’s grandchild. Oh, that’s right—you’re not related to Michael by blood. You don’t care, do you?”

“That’s not true. Please don’t say that. I just thought Sarah might want to pick things out herself. Wouldn’t you want to choose things for your own child?”

Perhaps because I was making a valid point, my mother-in-law glared at me sharply. I immediately thought I had gone too far, but it was too late. Without a word, my mother-in-law went back to her room looking upset.

I did reflect on it, but I was also shocked to be spoken to in such a way.

The next morning, my mother-in-law didn’t come out of her room—perhaps still angry. Simon had a three-day business trip starting that day, so he just called out, “I’m leaving,” through her door.

“Please don’t throw cold water on Mom’s great-grandchild fever. She hasn’t been the same since Michael left. You were worried too, right?”

“I was,” I replied, “but if we spend all our money like this, we’ll have nothing left when Michael and Sarah arrive, right?”

Simon’s face immediately turned sour. “Are you saying my earnings are too low?”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

Simon just said, “Fine,” and left with a look of dissatisfaction. Discussions about money always ended up like this.

Since I’m the one managing our finances, I can’t help but think ahead. Of course, there’s a reason for that. We’ve been married for thirteen years. Simon has provided me with a very comfortable life.

“Your part-time income is for you to enjoy,” Simon had always told me.

So I saved everything beyond what I needed for myself. Even though it’s in my name, I consider it our shared property. But then Simon’s company’s performance declined, and over the last five years, his salary has dropped to two-thirds of what it was when we first got married.

While there’s uncertainty whether his company will last until his retirement, he doesn’t seem to consider changing jobs. For appearances in front of my mother-in-law, my husband couldn’t give up his title as department head.

Now I’m the one paying the rent, and he covers the living expenses. We’ve kept this from my mother-in-law to save my husband’s face.

That day, I left work a bit early to apologize to my mother-in-law. When I got home, she was already sitting at the dining table waiting for me.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. I may have gone too far,” I admitted.

But my mother-in-law remained silent. Instead, she blindsided me with unexpected news.

“Michael and Sarah are returning for a hometown childbirth. Please vacate,” my mother-in-law declared in a chilly tone.

The eldest son and his wife were set to arrive in three days. Perplexed and stunned, I asked, “I have to leave?”

She affirmed, “Yes. We don’t need another mother figure anymore. You’ve been redundant for a while. Michael and his family will be living here. Make sure you’re out by tomorrow.”

The realization hit me hard. I had never truly been accepted into the family since the day I got married. I had always been treated as an outsider. The news of Michael’s return for the birth made it clear.

“You barren failure,” my mother-in-law continued. “You were allowed to experience raising a child. Be grateful. We have no obligation to support you anymore. It seems like Simon is tired of you too. Maybe he’s getting along well with a new girlfriend by now.”

Shocked, I gulped down my saliva, contemplating the possibility of my relationship with my husband growing distant. Could this be a trap?

I fell into thinking my husband would never… but I remembered that up until a year ago, he never had overnight business trips.

“All right, I’ll eat out tonight,” I said, grabbing my bag and leaving the house to walk aimlessly. I needed to calm my severely shaken heart.

Worried about my husband, I tried calling his cell phone. Despite my mother-in-law’s words, I still wanted to talk to him—but he didn’t answer, no matter how many times I rang. I dialed his office, only to learn that he had taken a couple of days off.

My mother-in-law’s words began to ring more true. Could he really be on a trip with another woman?

Dark thoughts crowded my mind, and I found myself overwhelmed with emotion—tears streaming down my face.

Staggering along, I noticed the tavern behind the station, a place we used to frequent when we first moved here.

“It’s still here,” I thought as I entered.

“Welcome.” The tavern owner’s expression clouded briefly upon seeing me, then he nodded in recognition.

“Hey, long time no see. It’s been about eight years,” I said. “I used to come here a lot with my husband.”

“Yes, it’s been a while. I remember you,” he replied.

I couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of relief. “Can I get a beer and a mixed plate of grilled chicken, please?”

The owner, a man of few words as always, nodded. As I sipped the cold beer and savored the grilled chicken, I took out my cell phone. The screen lit up with a photo of us when Michael turned eighteen—looking sharp in the slim suit we picked out together.

I wished for us to be closer as a family. The beer washed down my throat, taking the day’s bitterness with it.

Could I really move out tomorrow? Contemplating the next steps, I searched for moving companies, finding one for the job the next day. I also looked up junk buyers and saved two companies in my favorites.

Changing the screen saver on my phone seemed to clear my head completely. The beer and grilled chicken tasted exceptional.

I decided to think about everything once I got home.

Walking away from the tavern, I was called from behind. A young waitress from the tavern was running toward me.

“Excuse me, are you Mrs. Thompson?”

I noticed the screen saver on your phone,” she said, confirming my identity. Then she dropped a bombshell. My husband was having an affair—with one of their employees.

We exchanged contact information, and she promised to keep me informed. My mother-in-law’s words appeared to be true.

Instead of sadness, a fierce anger welled up within me. It was time to confront this head-on.

Booking an appointment with a moving company, I resolved to move out that day.

If it wasn’t a conspiracy, and my mother-in-law and Michael were truly involved, then I no longer needed to honor my husband.

Returning home, I packed my belongings until midnight without hesitation. The moving company arrived on time, and I made it clear that I was leaving as requested.

They took everything I had bought, erasing every trace of my presence.

My mother-in-law panicked, but I was resolute.

“I’m taking everything I bought. You can start a completely new life tomorrow,” I declared, suppressing a laugh.

Ignoring her protests, I proceeded to have everything taken out. My mother-in-law complained loudly to the movers, but there was nothing she could do.

The only items left in the house were piles of baby gear and her old dresser from before the marriage.

“Well then, I bid you farewell. There should be no trace of me left, so enjoy your life with Simon, Michael, and his family,” I declared, leaving her sitting there stunned.

Placing the keys on the table, I exited the room.

The movers held onto my things for a while, and I decided to stay with a single colleague for some time. Feeling a sense of completion, I slept soundly that night.

A week later, I finally heard from my husband. I wondered if he was scheming with that other woman. While my husband was dragging his feet, I received a call from the young woman at the tavern.

“Got a big shot—so I’ll send it to you.”

In the photo, my husband was chatting up a not-so-young woman at the tavern. Maybe out of a sense of justice, the young woman must have followed them after they closed. There was also a photo attached of the two entering a hotel.

“Even in such times, the cheating continues,” I thought, and any last bit of affection I had for my husband dissipated.

I asked for the woman’s name and had her address looked up the next day—armed with all the evidence of the affair.

My husband called. “Anna, where are you? Michael and his family are here too. Aren’t you going to come home soon?”

“No, I’m not coming back. Your mom told me to leave. I’m done here. Michael and his family are going to live with you now, right?”

I knew it—Michael and his family were out of money and looking to crash at our place. I’d heard that after graduating from vocational school, they’d been hopping from job to job and were now working part-time.

“No, I want you back, Anna. I went to the pharmacy, and they said you’re off for a bit—God, please come back.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, so don’t worry about me. Your mom and Michael didn’t like me, right? I reckon they’re happy to have the place to themselves without me around.”

My snide comment left my husband speechless. He knew his mother and Michael never accepted me as family but pretended not to see it.

“Well, all right,” he said finally. “I have something to say, so I’ll come back there.”

Once my husband replied with a relieved plea in his voice, I agreed.

Days later, I returned to the house for the first time in a long while. Some new pieces of furniture and appliances were inside.

When Michael and Sarah saw me, they just nodded from their seats on the sofa without getting up.

As I took a seat, my mother-in-law glared at me with a scary look on her face. The atmosphere was tense, and just as I thought to get things done and leave quickly, Michael spoke up.

“What are you doing here? You took everything from the house. What kind of monster does that? Dad’s been supporting you, and you’ve had it easy.”

I sighed. “I took everything because I paid for it. I wanted to remove all traces of me—just as you wanted, right?”

“That’s crazy. There’s no way you could afford all that just working part-time at the pharmacy,” my husband said.

When I glanced at him, he started talking as if he’d resigned himself.

“We’ve been getting by on what Anna and I both make for a little while now.”

“Then the stuff you took should be both yours,” Michael muttered.

Instead of my speechless husband, I decided to speak up.

“Simon’s company has been doing poorly, and his salary plummeted. That’s why for the past five years, I’ve been covering what’s missing. But that wasn’t enough, and now I’m the one paying our rent.”

My mother-in-law looked at my husband with surprise.

“I’m not just a part-timer—I’m a part-time pharmacist, and the pay is quite good. I’m making more than Simon now.”

At my words, my husband awkwardly looked away. My mother-in-law’s eyes were frantically shifting between my husband and me.

“From now on, Michael, you’ll be paying the rent. You’re going to live here, right? After all the help your grandma was given, it’s time for you to take care of her.”

Michael looked at me with a shocked expression when I dropped the news.

“Suddenly rent? How much is it?” he asked.

“It’s $5,600. Good luck. Since it seems my role as a mother is over, I don’t have an obligation to take care of you anymore. Pull yourself together—you’re going to be a father soon.”

Michael murmured, shaking his head. “That’s impossible.”

It was Sarah who raised her voice upon hearing this.

“Wait—$5,600? Weren’t we supposed to live here for free, covering rent and living expenses?”

I almost burst out laughing.

“Don’t worry, Sarah. You can move to a cheaper place. Simon still makes a decent salary.”

Hearing this, Sarah’s face relaxed a bit.

“Oh, since I’ll be leaving you, Simon, life might still get tough with your mistress, huh?”

At that, Sarah finally broke down in tears.

It was my husband who panicked. “What—what are you talking about?”

Sarah replied, “Oh, your mother told me about the new woman.”

“I guess it’s time to end my role as a wife too,” I said.

My husband must have thought there was no evidence. Indeed, it hadn’t even been ten days since I left the house.

“Wouldn’t that hurt Mary if she heard you?”

“Well,” I said, “I’ll get in touch about that later.”

At the mention of Mary’s name, my husband jolted, realizing that I knew everything. He held his head in his hands.

This was not the atmosphere to write a divorce paper.

“Well then, I’ll be going now. Please talk to me further through a lawyer.”

Neither my husband Simon nor Michael said anything more, staying silent as I grabbed my bag and stood up.

My mother-in-law stood up simultaneously, slamming her hands on the table. She yelled with a voice too strong for an elderly woman.

“What the hell—it’s all your fault our home is in shambles!”

I was instantly irritated.

“It was you who told me to leave. It was you who said Simon had another woman. And you interfered with my relationship with Michael—everything was you.”

I felt a surge of heat in my chest. I regretted not being more assertive with my relationship with Michael, not holding back because of my mother-in-law.

“Michael has nothing to do with this. It’s time for you to step up, Simon. He’s going through a hard time—you should support him as his wife. Take responsibility as a family member!”

What was she even talking about?

If she hadn’t called Michael back home, if she hadn’t hinted at Simon’s affair, I would still be happily supporting Simon and this home.

I had always believed in and supported Simon.

“Where are you, Michael? Why are you still up there? It’s all her fault!”

My mother-in-law’s lips tightened into a line, and she was trembling. I slipped past the silent woman and quickly left the room.

Afterward, Simon agreed to the divorce rather easily. It seems my determination was strong, and he couldn’t counter the evidence of the affair.

Shortly after, it seemed like they started the process of moving out of the apartment. In the end, Michael and Sarah went back to their apartment and never lived with the mother-in-law again.

Simon seems to be considering remarriage, but Mary was furious over the alimony and his request for her to live with his mother.

I’ve heard they’re considering whether to place my mother-in-law in a care facility. After all the love she poured into her son and grandson, it’s somewhat sad to think they’re ready to abandon her now. Perhaps she served her purpose too.

If my mother-in-law had said nothing back then—and it had just been a simple trip home for childbirth—maybe we would still be living together.

After the divorce, Michael sent me an apology letter. He wrote about how, as a child, he really wanted to be more spoiled; how he couldn’t talk to me because his grandmother disliked it; and how happy he was when I attended school events.

Maybe I should have reached out more. Perhaps then we could have built a different relationship.

Even though our relationship has ended, I quietly pray for Michael’s happiness in life.

I’ve returned to work as a pharmacist and quickly rented an apartment close to my workplace.

I didn’t feel good about keeping the furniture and appliances I took with me, so I had them all picked up and disposed of by a junk removal service.

Life without my mother-in-law’s harassment is peaceful and comfortable. For a while, I want to live for my own happiness—not someone else’s.

The first few mornings in my new apartment were the strangest. I woke up to silence. No footsteps in the hall, no critical voice picking apart my breakfast, no heavy sighs from the dining table. I could hear birds instead.

When I walked to the pharmacy, the sun was already high, the breeze crisp. For the first time in years, I noticed how beautiful the city felt when I wasn’t rushing home to please anyone.

At work, my colleagues asked if I was doing all right. I smiled and said yes—and I meant it. The air around me felt lighter.

Some evenings, I stopped by the same tavern behind the station for dinner. The owner always nodded when I came in, never prying, just serving me the same grilled chicken and a cold beer. Once, the young waitress who had helped me came over shyly and asked if things were okay now.

“Better than okay,” I told her. “Sometimes, losing everything gives you back your freedom.”

Weeks passed, and the pain dulled into memory. I began to rearrange my life quietly—mornings at the pharmacy, afternoons reading in the park, weekends taking short trips to the coast.

Freedom was a strange thing. At first, it felt like emptiness, but then it started to feel like peace.

Occasionally, I still thought about Simon. Not with anger anymore, but with a kind of tired sadness—the sadness you feel for someone who never knew how to love without control.

And Michael… when I thought of his letter, I would smile faintly. Maybe one day, he’d find the strength to break free from the same cycle that had trapped his father and grandmother.

As for my mother-in-law, I heard through acquaintances that she had fallen ill and was living quietly in a facility outside the city. The thought didn’t bring me joy or pity—just a muted acceptance. Some people live their whole lives clinging to control until there’s no one left to control.

When I received the official divorce papers, I didn’t cry. I signed them calmly, mailed them back, and went to the park. The sun was bright, children were laughing, and I felt something I hadn’t in years—a sense of possibility.

Maybe I couldn’t be a mother, but I could still nurture myself, my peace, and the life ahead of me.

One evening, as I stood by my apartment window watching the city lights shimmer, I whispered softly, “Goodbye, Simon. Goodbye, Mrs. Thompson. Goodbye, Michael.”

The words didn’t carry bitterness—only release.

I had spent years trying to belong to a family that never wanted me. Now, I finally belonged to myself.

Life, I realized, didn’t owe me the perfect ending—just a chance to begin again. And that, at last, was enough.