The father-son talk clearly had a good effect. After that, Leon behaved himself around me and was never rude again. The days that followed were peaceful and uneventful. In the blink of an eye, Allen and I had been married for three years. After a month of processing, my mother’s inheritance was finally transferred into my name. Allen and I had reached a critical juncture in our marriage.
Ever since I received the inheritance, both Allen and Leon had been walking on eggshells, afraid I might suddenly want a divorce. Allen’s mother and ex-wife, whom I’d expected to be obstacles, seemed to have accepted things, seeing that our relationship was strong. Samantha started seeing other men, no longer obsessed with making Allen submit and prove she was his perfect wife. Allen’s mother began pushing for a second child, declaring that if I got pregnant, she’d come and help take care of the baby. I politely declined.
Allen’s mother had a habit of doing what she thought was best, regardless of others’ wishes. Every weekend, she’d show up at our place, either urging us to have a baby, asking about Leon’s grades, or criticizing our lifestyle. She’d either tidy up our house or bring a ton of groceries to cook, claiming she wanted to improve our diet. Annoyed by her frequent visits, I asked Allen to talk to her. After their heart-to-heart, she finally stopped coming around so often.
This incident, however, reminded me that if I had a child, I’d inevitably become more entangled with Allen’s family. I dislike complicated relationships, yet having a child is part of my life plan. Should I change my plans because of others? After much deliberation, I decided to go through with the divorce.
That afternoon, I took leave from work and went home to pack my things. Unexpectedly, I ran into Leon at home with two girls. One of them was the girl I’d seen three years ago. Upon seeing me, he looked a bit awkward but said politely, “Auntie, my classmates and I were hanging out nearby and ran into Leon on the street. We needed to use the bathroom.” The other girl hid behind him without speaking.
Leon explained, “They’ll leave right after using the bathroom.”
I smiled: “It’s fine, have fun.” Not wanting to make them uncomfortable, I ordered some takeout for them and left.
When I got home after dinner, the two girls were gone. Allen was sitting on the sofa, looking serious. He stood up as soon as he saw me. Curious, I asked what was wrong. His expression complex, he apologized earnestly: “I’m so sorry… the jar in your room broke.”
I was taken aback. What jar? When I opened the bedroom door and saw the shattered, painted urn on the floor, I realized – it was my mother’s little house. The gray-white ashes were scattered on the ground, stirred up by the draft as I opened the door, as if greeting me. I crouched down and mentally greeted her back: Hey, Mom.
Leon came over with a white ceramic jar: “Aunt Cathy, can we use this temporarily? I ordered a replacement urn online, but it won’t arrive for three days.”
I took the jar. It seemed too small; Mom probably wouldn’t be comfortable, but there was no better option for now. I’d have to ask her to make do. I carefully gathered the ashes into the jar and put the broken pieces away. Once it was sorted, I had the presence of mind to ask Leon what happened.
“You let them into the room?”
Leon looked guilty: “Sorry, I didn’t watch closely enough. Lucy came in.”
I asked which one was Lucy, and he said the one who hadn’t greeted me. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad it wasn’t the girl he liked. But then I thought, why was I still worrying? I was about to divorce Allen anyway. After understanding the situation, I knew Leon wasn’t really to blame. I told him it was okay, we’d find a solution. When Allen returned, I didn’t mention it. I ended up not leaving that day.
Then came the weekend. Leon was home, and I didn’t want to bring up divorce in front of him, so I decided to wait until Monday. But I never expected Monday to bring another major incident.
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