Maria and Adrian loved each other for two years before getting married.
At that time, he was a gentle, sincere man, and I believed I was the luckiest woman alive. Our wedding happened with the blessings of both families.
My mother gave us a three-storey house as a wedding gift — the house was under my name, built from her entire life’s savings.
After becoming a daughter-in-law, I always tried my best to maintain our little family.
My mother-in-law — Lilibeth — was never satisfied with me because I worked at a bank, left early, came home late, and often couldn’t cook. But I never blamed her. I simply tried to adjust myself silently.
Then one day, my life turned upside down. Adrian came home with a strange expression and said he needed to “talk seriously.” My heart sank as he began:
“I’m sorry… but someone else came into my life. She’s pregnant…”
I thought I had misheard. It felt like someone squeezed my heart tight. But what hurt most was how calm he was — as if he were discussing a business deal.
A week later, my in-laws gathered at my house. There were six people: my husband, my mother- and father-in-law, my sister-in-law, my brother-in-law, and the mistress — the one who was pregnant.