My Wife Forced My Mother to Wash Dishes Like a Servant... Then I Walked Into the Kitchen
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Chapter 2 / 3
CHAPTER 3: The Cost of Control
CHAPTER 3: The Cost of Control
An hour later, the house was no longer a home.
It had become a silence filled with consequences.
His mother sat wrapped in a blanket he had brought her, hands resting carefully in her lap as if she still didn’t fully believe she was allowed comfort.
His wife stood near the staircase, arms crossed, still trying to hold onto pride like it could save her.
“You’re choosing her over me,” she said finally.
He looked at her.
“No,” he replied.
“I’m choosing what kind of person I am allowed to be in my own home.”
She laughed once.
But there was no humor in it anymore.
“You’ll regret this,” she said.
He shook his head.
May you like
“No. I already do.”
But not for the reason she thought.
