In the 30th year of our marriage, Franco Maxwell's company declared bankruptcy.
And the first thing he did?
He asked me for a divorce.
I refused.
Instead, I spent every waking hour looking for over a dozen jobs, working nonstop.
At night, I went around collecting bottles, scrimping and saving every penny to pay off his debts. I didn't spend a single cent on myself, not even when I ended up in the hospital from sheer exhaustion.
Until one day, the restaurant where I worked was booked by the wealthiest man in town for a proposal.
I was running around frantically, trying to keep up with the pace, and had to slip into the back to hide my sweaty, worn-out face from the guests.
When I looked up, I saw my husband.
Franco was kneeling on one knee, holding a three-hundred-million-dollar diamond ring, proposing to his adopted sister, Ingrid Foster.
And there, standing with them, were my two children and grandchildren, the ones I had raised alone.
God, they were joyfully celebrating.
"Aunt Ingrid is really amazing. To be with our dad, she had to lie and say she had cancer and only had a month to live. That's when our dad finally overcame his psychological barriers and proposed to her."
"Only Aunt Ingrid is good enough for a man of our father's stature. I can barely even admit I know Mom outside. She's always stuck in the kitchen, so plain-faced and pathetic!"
"Aunt Ingrid is not only beautiful but also successful, unlike Grandma, who only knows how to cook and clean at home. We don't want Grandma anymore. We want Aunt Ingrid to be our grandmother!"
Their harsh insults felt like a punch to the gut.
Right then, I realized Franco's bankruptcy was nothing but a lie. He hadn't cared about the business; he just wanted to get rid of me to be with Ingrid—the first love he couldn't have when he was younger.
All my sacrifices for this family, everything I did, had turned into a cruel joke. Overwhelmed by the weight of that cold, hard truth, I picked up my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in thirty years.
"Thirty years ago, you said you'd take me around the world. Does that promise still count??"
...
Suzy's POV
"Suzy, of course it counts! Every word I said to you back then still counts for life. It's been thirty years, and you finally turned back to look at me."
His deep voice came through the phone, still full of excitement, like a man who couldn't believe his luck.
Right away, he asked, "Where are you now? I'll come pick you up."
I gently turned him down. "I can't go with you just yet. Give me a week. I need to settle a few things here, and then I'll come find you."
On the other end of the line, the man replied with a grin I could almost hear.
"Okay, I'll wait for you. But, Suzy, if you dare go back on your word, I'll come over myself and drag you away! You'll never get away from me!"
Just as the call ended, the door opened.
Franco walked in with the kids, and Ingrid was with them.
When Franco saw that the table wasn't filled with food like usual, his face immediately darkened.
"Look at the time, Suzy! Why haven't you made dinner yet?" he said, complaining, "Can't you stop being lazy for once?"
I glanced at the sad, pitiful vegetables and meat my daughter-in-law, Marian, had brought back. The vegetables were the ones no one else wanted, all bruised and damaged, and the meat was leftovers, emitting a foul odor.
Every mealtime, Franco and the kids would refuse to eat, claiming they weren't hungry. So, I would eat it all myself.
It wasn't that I found life difficult, but I worried about their health.
After work, I would collect bottles to buy fresh meat for them so that they could eat well.
In reality, they secretly ate large fish and meat every day, while the spoiled food in the kitchen seemed to mock me. It felt like cotton needles stabbing my heart, a persistent, sharp ache.
But this time, I didn't walk into the kitchen like usual.
I sat on the sofa and refused to do what Franco asked.
"I've already eaten. I'm too tired to cook. If you want to eat, go out and get something."
The moment I said it, Franco's face turned bright red with anger.
He slammed the ashtray down by my feet and snapped, "You're purposely doing this, aren't you? You know we're broke and heavily in debt, yet you still want us to spend money on eating out. You just don't want me to turn things around, do you?!"
Andrew, my son, looked at me in disbelief and chimed in, "Mom, do you really think we have a lot of money? Aren't you worried our debtors will come knocking at our door and threaten us? We even bought the ingredients for you, and you couldn't bother to cook a single meal? How lazy can you get? You're nothing like Aunt Ingrid. She's way more diligent than you!"
Karla crossed her arms and jumped in.
"Exactly! Why can't you be more like Aunt Ingrid? She knew we were broke, so she went to the market and bought us cheap clothes—at least we had something to wear. But you, Mom? You waste food and blow what little money we've got left!"
My daughter-in-law, Marian, and son-in-law, Dylan, said nothing, but their eyes were filled with reproach.
In an instant, I became the villain.
I looked at the children I had raised, now siding with the mistress, and the fire in my chest flared up.
I asked coldly, "If Ingrid is so great, then let her do it. Why enjoy the fruits of my labor while criticizing me? Who raised you? Ingrid or me?"
At these words, their faces froze, speechless.
"Everyone, calm down. Suzy isn't doing this on purpose." Ingrid stepped in with a gentle voice, playing the peacemaker. "She must be tired. It's fine. Tonight's dinner is on me. Order whatever you want."
As she made that remark, Ingrid discreetly showcased the large diamond ring on her left-hand ring finger.
I had seen that diamond ring a month ago when I found it in Franco's pocket while cleaning his coat.
When we got married, we didn't have much, so I could only afford a $9.99 ring. Franco promised me that when our lives improved, he'd buy me an actual wedding ring.
Naturally, I believed the ring was meant for me. Every day, I waited with my heart pounding, dreaming of the moment he'd place it on my finger.
But on our anniversary, it never came.
I was then told the Maxwell family had gone bankrupt.
I thought Franco had sold the ring to pay off the debts, but now I realize that he never intended to give it to me at all.
Hearing that Ingrid would treat everyone—my children, their partners, and my grandchildren—all looked at me with even more disdain.
My grandson Tommy pointed right at me and sneered, "Grandma's useless. She doesn't do anything and won't even cook! Why should we bring her along? People like her don't deserve to eat!"
My granddaughter, Thalia, nodded in agreement, throwing her lollipop at my face.
"Grandma is useless. Grandma is embarrassing. Only Aunt Ingrid deserves to be our grandma!"
I looked at the grandchildren I had raised, feeling my nails digging into my flesh.
I couldn't hold in their insults anymore.
I snapped back at them, "Fine, since you all like her so much, from now on, let her be your grandmother."
Franco saw I was upset and scoffed, "You now feel wronged, Suzy? Isn't what Tommy and Thalia said the truth? If you can't handle it, just divorce me, Suzy! Do you really think we're gonna feel bad for you after all this?"
I looked at the man I had loved for thirty years and felt a profound sense of unfamiliarity.
Suppressing the bitterness in my chest, I calmly told him, "You're right. I do regret it. So, Franco, let's get a divorce."
