Mother-in-law Approves of Husband and Mistress Having Children

After being a housewife for three years, I enjoyed the life of my husband Trent Guerra earning money, and our child Alanna Guerra relied on me.

I thought this could last a lifetime, until one day at the hospital, I saw Trent and his mother Molly Schmitt supporting a woman.

Molly muttered, "Amari, once you give birth to our family's precious child, I'll make sure my son divorces that woman!"

Trent, caressing the woman's belly, smiled with joy. "Amari, why not just quit your job as a kindergarten teacher and focus on the child?"

I had been married to Trent for three years, ever since I was captivated by this upperclassman when I first entered university.

His daily concern and care naturally won me over.

The sound of the door opening interrupted my thoughts. I quickly wiped my hands on my apron and walked over to take Trent's coat.

"Have you had dinner, honey?" I hung his coat on the rack and went to the kitchen to bring out the food.

As we sat down, I glanced around and asked, "Where's Alanna?"

Without a pause, Trent responded after eating a few bites, "Mom came over, so I asked her to pick her up."

"Okay." I didn't think much of it, since Molly would often come to stay with us for a while.

After dinner, Trent hugged me from behind and pulled out a necklace.

The blue diamond gleamed beautifully under the light.

He put it on me, and I stood in front of the mirror for quite some time, reluctantly taking it off and placing it back in the box.

"Why aren't you just wearing it? You used to love this kind of thing," he remarked.

I hesitated for a moment before casually replying, "I don't wear jewelry much these days. It's inconvenient when I'm cleaning or cooking."

As if I didn't care... but how could I not? In my younger days, I adored fashion and frequently bought accessories. I never lacked anything at home either.

But after marrying Trent, I gradually toned it down. The endless housework was overwhelming.

My parents always thought he wasn't good enough for me, but who was perfect anyway?

As I came out of the bedroom, Molly and Alanna had already returned.

Seeing scratches on Alanna's face, I asked with concern, "What happened, Alanna? Did someone bully you at school?"

Molly, holding Alanna's hand, smiled, "No, no. Alanna just accidentally scratched herself on a tree branch.

"Isn't that right, Alanna?" Molly's tone was strange, though the smile never left her face.

Alanna nodded, admitting it was her carelessness.

After dinner and some tidying up, we all went to bed.

Trent hugged me from behind and whispered, "Valeria, how about we have another child? Alanna must feel so lonely by herself."

I turned over, thinking for a moment before gently replying.

"Honestly, Alanna is fine on her own. I grew up as an only child too. And with a second child, it's hard for parents to treat them both equally."

Trent got a bit upset. I didn't understand why he was so insistent on having two kids. One was enough, especially when he was at a critical point in his career. A second child would only add more burden.

I patted his back to comfort him, and we soon fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of banging and clattering outside.

I walked out to see Molly mopping the floor early in the morning. I took the mop from her.

"Molly, what are you doing? It's barely morning!"

Molly sat on the couch, eating the fruit I had bought from the supermarket the day before.

"You don't know, Valeria. Back in my day, we were up at the crack of dawn every day, always working in the fields."

She said as she dusted off her hands from the sticky fruit and continued.

"Nowadays, you have it so easy, sleeping in until sunrise!"

I was speechless. The generation gap and her authority as my elder made it hard for me to respond, so I just laughed it off.

Alanna came out of the bedroom, looking at us.

"Is it too noisy, Alanna? Go get dressed, and I will take you out for breakfast and then to your tutoring class."

I patted her head and went to the bedroom to change.

As I held my Alanna's hand and walked out, in the elevator, she looked up at me with hesitation in her eyes.

I knelt to her level. "What's wrong, Alanna?"

"Mommy, actually... my face was scratched by my teacher's son. We were playing."

I was furious. What kind of game involved scratching a girl's face?

After dropping Alanna off at her class, I took out my phone and sent her teacher a message.

[Ms. Ochoa, Alanna said your son scratched her face while playing. I understand kids sometimes roughhouse, but could you please remind him not to scratch girls' faces while playing?]

I sent the message and got no response for a while, probably because the teacher was busy. After buying groceries, I headed home to make lunch.