Chapter 4The Last Strawberry

Chloe was from a single-parent home. Her father had suffered a stroke before the New Year and was paralyzed on one side. He looked even worse now, arriving in a wheelchair.

As soon as we sat down at the dinner table, Chloe brought up the idea of moving her father in.

"Mom, my dad can't be left alone. I did the math. Hiring a live-in caretaker or nurse would cost at least three thousand a month. My salary combined with Mark's isn't even ten thousand. We just can't afford it. Instead of paying a caretaker, we should bring him here to live with us. The family can take care of him together.

"We have that extra storage room anyway. We can clear it out for my dad. We can rent out his old apartment, and the rent can help cover living expenses."

Before I could even speak, Arthur and Mark nodded in agreement.

"Of course, of course. A son-in-law is basically half a son. It's our duty to be filial to our father-in-law."

"Don't worry, Chloe. With all of us here, we'll definitely take great care of him."

...

The braised ribs I had specifically prepared for our guest tasted like cardboard in my mouth.

I looked up at Arthur and Mark amidst their chorus of agreement.

"Are you two going to take care of him?"

My son and daughter-in-law work every day, and Arthur is a man who wouldn't lift a finger to do a household chore. This massive burden would undoubtedly fall on my shoulders.

The memory of serving my father-in-law and mother-in-law day and night for years involuntarily sprang to mind.

Sick elderly people can't be hit or scolded, and they often cause a ruckus that gives you no peace. It was truly exhausting.

I had finally seen my sick in-laws pass away, and now they wanted me to take care of a half-paralyzed patient. Just thinking about it was suffocating.

My voice was very soft, but it instantly froze the atmosphere at the table to absolute zero.

Arthur furrowed his brows.

"What's your problem these past few days? You're giving attitude left and right. What exactly do you want? It's just taking care of a half-paralyzed patient. You're used to doing it. Why won't you do it now?"

He put down his bowl.

"Helen, you spent a hundred dollars this afternoon. What kind of clothes did you buy? Were they made of gold? I let that slide. I consider it paying for peace. But you're pushing your luck. If you keep this up, I won't give you another dime.

"You're an old woman. You don't care about your son, you don't care about your grandson. Are you trying to leave this family, find some shady guy outside, and demand a divorce at your age?"

The word "divorce" made me freeze.

Right. Divorce.

Why hadn't I thought of divorce before?

Seeing me stay silent, Arthur paused and softened his tone.

"I know you're upset. That's why I went out of my way to buy you strawberries this afternoon, didn't I? You should be grateful."

Mark nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Exactly! Mom! Am I not your biological son? Is it really that hard to help us out?"

Mark looked exactly like his dad did when he was young. His face was full of dissatisfaction with me, as if I owed him something.

"Do whatever you want. I'm not taking care of him anyway."

As soon as the words left my mouth, the bowl in Arthur's hand came flying at me.

It crashed to the floor, shattering loudly.

"Fine! We don't need you! It's just taking care of a person. You seriously think this family will fall apart without you? If you don't want to do it, then leave! Mark, from now on, pretend you don't have a mother!!"

I clutched my bleeding forehead. It took me a long time to recover from the shock.

By the time I reacted, the entire table of people had already left the dining room.

Mark was still muttering.

"Mom, don't blame Dad. You're being completely unreasonable! Making a huge fuss over and over again about such a small thing."

That night, I asked my daughter about getting a divorce.