7
After we got home, my mom thought we could use this incident to break off the engagement.
I wanted nothing more than to get rid of this family of scumbags as soon as possible, but knowing how shameless they were, I knew it wouldn’t be easy to break off the engagement now.
Sure enough, the next day Jack came to our house with gifts to apologize.
No matter how eloquently he spoke, my parents didn’t budge.
On the third day, Mrs. Wilson came along too, using her pregnancy as leverage. She came under the pretense of apologizing but was actually trying to pressure us.
My parents didn’t dare say anything harsh to her. After seeing her off, my mom cursed the old hypocrite at home.
While I comforted my parents, I was mentally cursing their family a thousand times over.
Being manipulated like this was incredibly frustrating.
“Dad, Mom. Let’s just let it go this time. We won’t break off the engagement yet,” I said.
My mom urgently replied, “How can we do that? We finally have solid grounds against him. If we break it off now, no one will blame you.”
My dad added, “That’s right. Don’t worry. Worst case, your mom and I will go stay somewhere else for a while. If they can’t find us, how can they emotionally blackmail us?”
I chuckled and shook my head, explaining, “It won’t work. If they can’t find you, they’ll come after me. I can’t just stop going to work. Don’t worry, we’ll let it go for now. After the baby is born, I’ll have another reason to break off the engagement.”
“Really?” they asked.
Seeing me nod, they finally relaxed.
The next day, as expected, they came to our house again. After hearing my parents‘ firm answer that we wouldn’t break off the engagement, they even shamelessly stayed for dinner before leaving satisfied.
After this incident, Jack probably wanted to improve his image and gave up on the idea of making his mom have an abortion.
Using work as an excuse, I would visit Mrs. Wilson once a month with lots of gifts.
The neighbors praised me highly, while some mocked the Wilsons for “having a baby at her age,” and others gossiped about Jack’s vicious and
cunning nature.
Months flew by, and it was almost time for Mrs. Wilson to give birth.
At the dinner table, the whole family was exceptionally warm towards me.
Jack put food on my plate, saying, “I prepared all your favorites today.”
12:49 PM
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Such enthusiasm for no reason – I wondered what new scheme this family was cooking up.
I smiled and said, “You’re too kind. You should prepare Auntie’s favorites. She’s the most important one right now.”
“You’re just as important,” Mrs. Wilson chimed in with a smile. “After I give birth, you two should quickly get your marriage license, then have a baby. The two children can grow up together as playmates.”
I just smiled noncommittally, not responding to her suggestion.
“It’s just that I’m about to give birth, and for the postpartum recovery period… Jack has to work, and your Uncle Wilson is a rough man. He can barely take care of himself, let alone a new mother and baby,” she continued.
Ah, so this was what they were getting at.
I pretended to be concerned and said, “Oh yes, what should we do? How about a postpartum care center?”
“That’s such a waste of money. We need to save where we can. I was thinking, isn’t your mom retired and at home? We’re going to be family soon anyway, so maybe your mom could come take care of me during my recovery. When it’s your turn to have a baby, I’ll take care of you so your mom won’t have to. What do you think?”
Of course, I didn’t think it was a good idea. It was incredibly shameless. If they couldn’t afford it, they shouldn’t have had the baby. How could they have the nerve to make such a request?
I looked at Jack, who kept his head down as if he didn’t exist, obviously feeling very guilty.
“My mom is getting older. She can’t handle staying up all night to take care of a baby. She’s always said that when I have a child, I should go to a postpartum care center or hire a professional postpartum nanny. So, Auntie, you’ll have to find another solution for your recovery period,” I said, my tone cooler, expressing my dissatisfaction.
“Oh, I know it’s not an appropriate request. But I have no choice. The postpartum recovery period is crucial for women, especially at my age. I need to take extra good care of myself. My life is so hard. I’ve worked hard all my life thinking I could finally enjoy some comfort from my son, but it turns out I still have to struggle on my own, she lamented.
How ridiculous. Her hardships had nothing to do with me. I wasn’t even married into their family yet.
What, did they expect me to start being filial in advance? Why not ask me to prepare for her funeral while they’re at it?
Tired of watching her act pitiful, I suggested, “Auntie, why don’t I help you hire a postpartum nanny? It’s much cheaper than a care center.”
“Well… that would be quite an expense for you, she said hesitantly.
Hah! So she wanted me to pay? Fine! We’ll see whose money it ends up being. For now, I’ll let her be happy for a while.
