if I stayed silent, nothing would change.
“Mom,” I said calmly, “the money I send you every month… what is it for?”
“To help the house,” she replied.
“No.”
My voice was firm.
“It’s to take care of my wife.”
Silence.
She stared at me.
“So you’re choosing her over your own mother?”
The question hung heavy.
I looked at Lily.
At the bowl.
Then back at her.
“I’m choosing what I can see.”
She opened her mouth—but said nothing.
I held up the bowl.
“Would you eat this?”
No answer.
“Would you give it to someone you love?”
Still nothing.
That was enough.
I placed an envelope on the table.
“There’s money in here,” I said. “Enough for you to find a small apartment nearby.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re… kicking me out?”
“No,” I said quietly. “I’m protecting my family.”
That night, the house was quiet.
I cooked fresh rice, fish, and hot soup.
When I set the plate in front of Lily, she hesitated.
“You can eat,” I said gently.
She looked at me. “Really?”
I nodded.
She took a bite.
Tears filled her eyes again.
“It’s… really good.”
“I know,” I said softly.
The baby started crying.
“I’ll go,” she said, standing up.
I followed her.
She held our son, rocking him gently under the warm light.
For the first time in weeks…
she looked at peace.