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My Mother-in-Law Faked Illness for 18 Years,So I Sold the House and Walked Away Novel Cover

My Mother-in-Law Faked Illness for 18 Years,So I Sold the House and Walked Away

For eighteen years, my mother selflessly raised my son while my mother-in-law claimed a bad back to avoid helping. The moment our son leaves for college, my husband heartlessly evicts my exhausted mother to move his healthy mother in, demanding I care for her. Looking at my mother’s gray hair and my mother-in-law’s ruddy face, I quietly agree. If they think I will submit to this injustice, they are sorely mistaken. It is time to sell the house and walk away.
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Chapter 1

The day my child was born, my mother-in-law used her bad back as an excuse and went home to her hometown to recover.

My own mother quit her job on the spot and came to look after me through my postpartum recovery and to help raise my son.

For eighteen full years, she never took a single day off.

Then, the moment my son started college, my husband immediately brought his mother back from her hometown, threw my mother's luggage out the door, and said to me:

"Our son's in college now. He doesn't need anyone looking after him. Send your mother home today. My mom's moving in."

"She's getting old, her health's not good, so from now on you'd better put in more effort. Take good care of her and treat her right."

I looked at my mother, who had toiled through half her life, her hair gone completely gray. Then I looked at my mother-in-law, ruddy-faced and bursting with energy.

I nodded and said, "All right."

1

Seeing how readily I agreed, Dirk James broke into a satisfied smile.

"You're a sensible woman. That means a lot to me."

My mother-in-law folded her arms, looking smug, and turned to my mother.

"Well, since Corinne Henson agrees, you'd best hurry up and get going now."

"And don't bother coming around anymore. I like my peace and quiet. I don't want extra people cluttering up the house."

At those words, my mother's body went stiff.

She stared, dazed, at the luggage scattered across the doorway, and couldn't stop her eyes from going red.

I knew she felt wronged.

Eighteen years ago, the day I gave birth, my mother-in-law came to the hospital just long enough to glance at the baby, then pressed a hand to her back and sighed at me.

"Corinne, my back's hurting so badly I can't stand it. If I stay here I'll only be a burden to you, so I'll go home first and recover."

"Once my back's better, I'll come and look after you and the baby."

And with that, she pressed a hand to her back and left the hospital without looking back.

I sat there watching her walk away, and it was a long time before I could pull myself together.

Because after Dirk and I got married, my mother-in-law nagged me day after day to have a child.

She kept promising me all I had to do was give birth. With her around, she swore I wouldn't have to raise the baby a single day.

I believed her.

And then, the baby was barely born before she used her bad back as an excuse and went straight back to her hometown.

That was eighteen years ago.

For eighteen full years, she vanished like she'd evaporated off the face of the earth, and never spent a single day caring for the child.

Never bought him one piece of clothing.

Never gave him a cent for his birthdays or the holidays.

It was my mother who deliberately quit her job and rushed over overnight to care for me and the baby.

In the days right after the birth, I was so weak I couldn't even get out of bed.

It was my mother who tended to me day and night, wiping me down, cooking soups to build me back up.

When the baby cried at night, it was her who got up again and again to hold and soothe him, feed him, change his diapers. For three whole years, she never slept a full night.

For all of it, Dirk never once said thank you. Instead, every month, right on schedule, he wired eight thousand a month to his mother for living expenses.

He said, "My mom's back is bad. It isn't easy for her living alone back home."

But I could see plain as day that my mother-in-law posted about her life on the short-video app every single day.

Back home she ate, drank, and had a fine time every day. If she wasn't dancing with the group in the park, she was off traveling or hiking a mountain.

She was living better than anyone, her body sturdier than mine, and I was the young one.

My mother, by contrast, wore herself down doing housework and caring for the child, day after grinding day, until she'd turned into a little old woman with white hair and hands covered in calluses.

And in the end, she was the one written off as extra baggage and swept out the door.

No one could take that. No one.

Seeing my mother still hadn't moved, my mother-in-law frowned, a flicker of displeasure in her face.

"My grandson's in college now. He doesn't need looking after. You staying on here does nothing but take up space."

"For the sake of us being family, we let you live in this fine house for free for eighteen years. That's already going out of our way for you."

"But you can't just keep freeloading in my son's home forever, now, can you?"

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