3: 3
The next moment, Boris's mother came flying at me like a hen whose nest had been raided, planting herself in front of Boris.
She jabbed a finger at my face.
"What are you shouting for? I've never said a harsh word to my son his whole life, so who do you think you are, yelling at him?"
The whole scene was so absurd that not just me, even Boris froze.
A few seconds later, he swallowed and gently pushed his mother aside.
"Mom, it's fine. Teresa." He said my name, but he didn't dare look at me.
"We never thought Buddy would die from the heat either. Why would we ever hurt him on purpose..."
I kept my eyes fixed on him. His voice grew smaller and smaller.
Boris's mother yanked him behind her again and straightened her back.
"What are you afraid of her for? Teresa, the dog's dead, so it's dead. Keeping a dog costs time and money. Isn't this better? Now you can focus and have a baby sooner."
"You're already twenty-eight. If you don't hurry up, how long do you plan to wait?"
I looked at her.
She was only fifty this year, but she looked worn down, like someone in her sixties.
The flesh on her cheeks sagged, and only her eyes held a light that wasn't like usual.
In that instant, I understood.
She'd done it on purpose.
Something cold settled over me. I stared at her.
"So you used saving on the electric bill as an excuse and let Buddy die in the heat on purpose, just because you thought keeping him would get in the way of us having children?"
Boris quickly tugged at his mother.
But she mistook my calm tone for a sign that I was backing down.
She thrust out her chest.
"And what if I did? Boris told me that dog goes through a few hundred dollars a month in food alone, and if it ever got sick, there'd be no telling how much. Besides, all day long you're holding that dog, kissing it like it's your own son. If you ask me, you don't have the slightest interest in having a baby. You're getting married next month. Don't you think it's time you settled down and acted like somebody's wife?"
I sat there on the sofa and listened to every word of it.
Then I stood up.
"Are you done?"
She lifted her chin and gave a single nod.
I turned to Boris beside her.
"Boris, I want to break up. The wedding's off."
"I'm giving you one day to move out of my home."
The color, drained white before, slowly flooded back into Boris's face.
His throat bobbed a few times, and he forced out a smile.
"Teresa, this is going too far. My mom went a little overboard, sure, but she means well for us."
I didn't budge. I repeated it.
"Move out tomorrow. Otherwise, I'm calling the police."
Boris's mother finally caught up, and her shaking finger stabbed at me as she screamed.
"You, you, you—whoever heard of throwing a husband out over one dog! And is this even your house? What right do you have to throw us out?"
I didn't waste words on her. I went to my room, unlocked the drawer, and took out the property deed.
I pointed at the owner's name, "Teresa Swanson," printed in bold, and said coldly:
"See it clearly now? I bought this house. I have every right to throw out anyone I don't want here."
"And another thing. Your son and I aren't married yet. He isn't my husband, and he doesn't deserve to be."
Before this, to protect Boris's pride,
I had never once mentioned in front of his mother that I was the one who bought the wedding home.
Boris's mother was dumbstruck. She mumbled at Boris.
"Son, this house—she really bought it?"
Boris flinched like he'd been stung. He ignored his mother and glared hard at me.
"Teresa, don't push it too far."
"I don't deserve to be your husband? I'm younger than you, I'm good-looking. Do you have any idea? My coworkers all say I'm wasting myself on a girlfriend like you."
I couldn't believe my ears.
Boris was two years younger than me. Back then, I'd agreed to be with him precisely because he seemed more mature than others his age.
After we got together, I'd asked him:
"What if people say your girlfriend's older than you? What would you do?"
He'd grinned.
"An older wife brings good fortune. Anyone who makes an issue of it is just jealous of me."
Now, he'd finally said what he really thought.
