After the wedding, since we were still young and did not have enough money, my husband agreed to live in my parents’ house. He got along very well with my mother, so life went on in harmony, without those “mother-in-law and son-in-law” tensions that everyone talks about.
My mother, although she was only a housewife, always looked young and well-groomed thanks to the money my father earned. Many times on the street we were mistaken for sisters instead of mother and daughter.
My dad worked a lot, and because he didn’t want my mom to feel lonely, whenever my husband and I went out, we would invite her. There were three of us in everything: trips, walks, meals.
Lately I noticed something strange: my mother and husband whispered to each other too much, and when I asked, they denied it.
This morning I woke up and didn’t find my husband in bed. I went to my mother’s room and she wasn’t there either. As I went downstairs, I saw the safe wide open: all the money and gold were gone.
There was only one piece of paper written in my husband’s handwriting:
“Don’t look for us. Consider that destiny ends here.”
My legs trembled, my whole body collapsed. I couldn’t believe my eyes: my mother—the one who gave me life—and my husband—the man to whom I gave my youth—had gone off together, taking everything with them and leaving me alone with shame and pain.
The images appeared in my mind: their whispers, the complicit looks that I pretended not to see. It was all true.
The phone vibrated. A message from an unknown number read,
“Don’t blame us. We just want to live according to what we feel.”
I felt my heart break into a thousand pieces. Everything I had believed was just a farce.
I collapsed on the floor, the whole house rumbling in silence.
I called their phones again and again, but they were turned off.
My father, returning hastily from a work trip, almost fainted when he read the note. His hair seemed to turn gray for more than ten years in an instant.
The neighbors began to murmur, the news spread like wildfire. Some pitied me, others mocked me. I no longer had the strength or face to go out.
The next day we went to the bank: all the accounts were empty. My father murmured in a trembling voice,
“Your mother… and that man… they took everything.”
In tears I cried out,
“Why, Mom? Did you forget that I am your daughter?”
The phone vibrated again. Another message from the same number:
“Don’t look for us anymore. Start your life again.”
I pressed the cell phone to my chest. Starting over? When the two most important people had betrayed me in the most cruel way…
My father put his hand on my shoulder, his eyes red but his voice firm:
“We don’t need them. The two of us will move forward. We will start again.”
I collapsed on his shoulder, crying hard. And at that moment I understood: the only man who would never abandon me was my father.
I took a deep breath, wiped my tears, and promised myself: from today I will no longer be weak. I will get up, take care of myself, and live with dignity.
They… let time and destiny judge them.
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