"Without my son, you're nothing!"
So every penny spent was earned by her son?
I let out a cold laugh and turned to Jonathan.
"Is that what you think too?"
His eyes darted away. After a long, painful silence, he finally spoke, his voice hesitant.
"Flora, Mom's an elder. She's saying all this for your own good. Just... bear with it, and it'll pass."
"We're all family. Do we really need to make a scene?"
I drew a deep breath and nodded.
"Okay."
The tension between Jonathan's brows eased. He thought I'd caved again.
But the very next second, I continued.
"Sure. Let's see just how ugly this can get."
I turned back to face my mother-in-law.
"Mom, you say everything I've spent over the years came from your son. So tell me, do you even know how much your son makes every month?"
The question caught her off guard. Her eyes shifted, guilt flickering across her face.
"Jonathan makes... he makes tens of thousands a month."
"You think everyone's like you? Sitting around the house all day doing absolutely nothing?"
I tugged at the corner of my lips, my gaze dripping with scorn.
"He makes two thousand a month. Half goes to his car payment. The rest goes straight to you."
"You keep saying I've been spending his money. Go ahead, ask him. Has a single dollar of his ever made it into my pocket?"
"Five years ago, when you needed surgery for your kidney stones, I pulled out my entire wedding fund to cover the bill."
"And Dad."
Mr. Parsons Sr., standing stone-faced outside the door, flinched.
"When your pulmonary emphysema landed you in the ICU for a month, I quit my job. I gave up my year-end bonus to take care of you."
"And when Jonathan's brother got married, when his wife had her baby... every expense this family has racked up over the years, which one of them didn't come out of my account?"
"And now you're all standing here telling me I've been living off Jonathan Parsons' money. Don't you find that laughable?"
The air froze the moment I finished. Jonathan's face had turned a deep, mottled red.
"Flora, why are you bringing all this up? Is money the only thing you care about?"
"I never realized you were such a materialistic woman."
Materialistic?
If I were truly materialistic, I never would have married a spineless man like him.
Mrs. Parsons latched on like she'd finally found an opening, sinking her teeth in.
"What's all this 'your money, his money'? You're family. Why are you keeping score?"
"Besides, I never told you to spend that money. I never told you to quit your job. At the end of the day, you only have yourself to blame for not being able to juggle a career and a family. What does any of that have to do with us?"
A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
Just moments ago, every word out of her mouth was about how I'd been spending her son's money.
Now she'd flipped the script entirely.
Back when she needed that surgery and the money was urgent, everyone had hinted that I should hand over my wedding fund. When Mr. Parsons Sr. was hospitalized, they told me over and over that my job was pointless, that I should just quit and come home.
But now, coming out of her mouth, every sacrifice I'd ever made was somehow my own fault.
Once upon a time, I might have fought back. Argued. Made my case.
But now, all I felt was bone-deep exhaustion.
I had no patience left for any of them. I simply lifted my gaze to Jonathan.
"Forget it, Jonathan. Let's get a divorce."
The moment the words left my mouth, every pair of eyes in the room snapped to me in disbelief.
A flash of panic darted through Jonathan's eyes.
"Flora, what are you talking about?"
I pressed my fingers against my temples and repeated myself.
"I said, let's get a divorce. I'm done."
He saw the look on my face and realized I meant it. His composure cracked.
"Flora, Mom just said some harsh things, that's all. How can we hold it against her? She's our elder."
