3
After a few days of not seeing each other, Jack asked me out for dinner.
At the table, he was sighing heavily, clearly troubled.
I kept my head down, focusing on my food. Even looking at him made me feel sick, let alone caring about what was bothering him.
Seeing I wasn’t reacting, he finally spoke up: “Lily, honestly, what do you think about my mom’s pregnancy?”
“What do you mean, what do I think?” I pretended not to understand.
He asked, “Do you really think it’s a good thing for my mom to have this baby?”
“Isn’t it?” I countered.
“It’s not that it’s not good, but she’s so old now. I’ve heard it’s very dangerous for older pregnant women,” he said, putting on the act of a filial
son.
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“That’s true. So what should we do?” I asked.
“Why don’t you try to persuade my mom?” he suggested.
He didn’t specify what to persuade her about, but it was clear he wanted to avoid the responsibility while getting rid of the potential problem.
Looking at it now, in my past life, he must have misrepresented my words to his mother, making her think I had threatened and forced her to have an abortion.
He had benefited from staying in the background, and even used it to criticize me and make me feel guilty, forcing me to give in on various issues.
The last argument before my death was because I discovered he had cheated on me multiple times while I was pregnant.
When I confronted him with evidence, he actually said, “I cheated because you’re too cruel. I feel cold sleeping next to you. You made me lose a family member, so you deserve this as karma for your actions.”
My mother–in–law even cheered him on: “That’s right! You made me lose my baby. You think you can have a good life in our family? Dream on! So what if my son cheated? It’s because you, you little slut, can’t keep your man in check.”
When I said I wanted a divorce and left the house, someone pushed me down the stairs from behind.
As I lay in a pool of blood, they stood by coldly watching me beg for help.
My mother–in–law snarled, “Want a divorce? We can’t let you take away the Zhang family’s bloodline. It’s better if the baby dies too. It can go keep my baby company.”
I closed my eyes, life ebbing away in helplessness, despair, and hatred.
“Lily, are you listening to me?” Jack called out, pulling me back from my thoughts.
I curled my lips into a mocking smile: “Sure, I’ll go talk to your mom.”
Since he didn’t want to state his purpose directly, I’d naturally go about it based on my own understanding.
The next day, I bought two large bags of nutritious food from the supermarket and went to visit my future mother–in–law.
As soon as I entered the neighborhood, some ladies who knew Mrs. Wilson saw me and asked, “Lily, bringing so many things to your future in–laws? Tsk tsk, you’re so generous. The Wilsons are really lucky.”
Their words were dripping with sarcasm, but I pretended not to notice and politely replied, “Yes, Mrs. Wilson needs to boost her nutrition recently, so I bought a bit extra.”
Hearing this, they curiously asked, “What’s wrong with her? Is she sick? I saw her yesterday and she looked fine.”
“It’s not an illness, it’s good news,” I said deliberately, leaving them hanging.
“What good news?”
“Well… I shouldn’t say. You’d better ask her yourself,” I said, walking away with the bags, leaving them to speculate.
In my past life, whenever they talked about children, my mother–in–law would tear up and mention the baby she had aborted.
Public opinion always favors the weak, so I was criticized for being a heartless teacher, often pointed at and gossiped about in the neighborhood.
I wondered what they would say this time about someone her age trying for a second child.
Mrs. Wilson did look better than before, radiating a maternal glow.
Seeing me bring so many good things, she couldn’t stop smiling.
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