For His First Love, My Husband Gave Up His Mother

My mother-in-law had always been good to me.

After her husband died in an accident when Nick was only two, she raised him alone.

He was her only son, so she treated me like her own daughter.

She prepared all my favorite foods, went shopping with me, and treated me more like a friend than a daughter-in-law.

When we first got married, she often told Nick to treat me well.

And he did at first. But that kindness was fleeting.

After his first love in university returned, he had nothing but harsh words for me.

He would say his first love was gentle, considerate, and understanding, while I was just a nagging, worn-out housewife.

Lea could comfort him when he was stressed, while I only burdened him with endless complaints about trivial matters at home.

Nick despised me.

Even though he was the one who pursued me, who had initially drawn close to me.

When I discovered Lea's presence, of course, I argued and fought.

But all Nick ever said was, "Can't you be more understanding?" and "There's nothing between us."

Until I found photos of them in a hotel on his phone.

I never told my mother-in-law about any of this. Her heart was weak, and I was afraid it would upset her too much and harm her health.

I thought that if I kept enduring, maybe Nick would eventually come to his senses.

But he didn't. He didn't even care about his own mother's safety.

My heart ached.

When I looked into the room, I saw my mother-in-law struggling to keep her eyes open, trying to say something, her eyes filled with pain.

A nurse came out, "Are you the patient's family? She wants to speak with you. Please, come in quickly!"

I rushed to her side, clutching her hand tightly.

My mother-in-law asked me where Nick was.

I forced a smile, "He's on his way, Mom. He'll be here soon to save you. Don't be afraid."

She tried to return my smile, her voice choked with emotion, "Silly girl, I'm not blind. I know everything he's done to you. It's all his fault. You should divorce him. He's not worthy of you..."

I started to cry, that horrible sense of dread hitting me full force.

"It's okay, Mom. Just hold on a little longer. He's almost here!"

She shook her head and began to speak her final wishes, "When I'm gone, give my diary in the drawer to Nick. After I'm cremated, take my ashes and travel. Help me see the beautiful landscapes that our family has guarded all these years—"

It'll be okay. Everything will be okay.

I cried with her, unwilling to just watch her leave like this.

I frantically called every one of Nick's friends, but none of them knew where he was.

I won't give up.

Finally, I called the police station, "Hello, my husband, Nick Smith, is missing. It's urgent, really urgent! Please, can you help me find him? I'm begging you, please..."