I never told my “mama boy” husband that I was the one who bought back his house and paid off all his debts. He believed his mother had saved him, while I was nothing more than a useless housewife. On Christmas Day, I spent the entire day preparing dinner, yet his mother refused to let me sit at the table. “You look filthy. I can’t enjoy my meal if I have to look at your face,” she said. I went to change my clothes and sat down again—only to be shoved so hard. “Don’t you understand? My mother doesn’t want to eat with you.” Blood streamed from my head, but they pretended not to see it. I calmly picked up my phone and called the police. “I’d like to report a crime,” I said. “Illegal trespassing and assault.”

Editoron

Chapter 5: The Lesson

The door to the garage clicked shut.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, a muffled thud. A shout. The sound of something heavy hitting a workbench.

I didn’t flinch. I walked to the freezer, took out a bag of frozen peas, and pressed it to my head. The cold was shocking, but it helped clear the fog in my brain.

Agnes was hyperventilating at the table. “He’s killing him! Your father is killing my son!”

“He’s not killing him, Agnes,” I said calmly. “He’s just… adjusting his perspective.”

I walked over to her. “Now, about you.”

“This is my son’s house!” Agnes spat, trying to regain some shred of dignity. “I’m not going anywhere until he comes back!”

“We’ve already established this is my house,” I said. “And you are currently trespassing. The police are outside. Do you want to join Mark in jail? I’m sure they can find a charge for you. Accomplice? Harassment? Fraud?”

I looked at the clock on the wall.

“You have thirty seconds to gather your things and get out. If you are still here when my father comes back from the garage, I can’t promise he won’t use the cane on you.”

The garage door handle jiggled.

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