Since it was my contact number that Fred left, the doctor called me.

He didn’t sugarcoat it.

It was late-stage cancer.

We had two options: either go through surgery, which might give Fred a few more years, or skip it and let him live out the remaining six months as comfortably as possible.

I didn’t even hesitate—I chose surgery.

But the problem? The surgery would cost 300,000 dollars, and we didn’t have a penny in savings.

That’s when I remembered the gold bracelet my husband gave me.

It weighed 400 grams—a solid, expensive piece.

Why not sell it?

At 800 dollars per gram, I could get 320,000 dollars for it.

That would cover the surgery costs almost perfectly.

The moment that idea hit me, I rushed to find the bracelet.

Since it was so pricey, I’d never even worn it—not once since we got married.

But when I found it, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

It was fake.

I looked at my husband, and at that moment, I decided not to tell him he had cancer.

Right then, he gave me a little kick and said, “What are you standing around for? Hurry up, let’s go home!”

Every month, we drove back to the town. Not for anything special—just to have dinner with the whole family.

Since my parents passed away, I really treasured those gatherings.

I especially loved spending time with Marcia, my mother-in-law. Being around her gave me this feeling like I had a mom again.

And honestly, she was the kindest one to me in the whole family.

If anyone would understand what I was going through, it’d be her.

When we got to the house, I told her everything.

I knew she couldn’t help, but I just wanted a little comfort.

Something to remind me I wasn’t completely alone in this family.

But instead, she looked at me and said, “So what? My son managed to marry you with a fake bracelet. That just shows how smart he is. Not everyone’s got that kind of talent, you know.”

“Don’t you know whose mother I am? And now you’re running to me to tattle on my son? You know what? I think he’s been way too nice to you. He should’ve beaten some sense into you by now.”

“You’re always running to someone else’s mom to cry about your problems. No wonder you ended up with no parents of your own.”

Her words knocked the wind out of me. My parents’ death was always a raw wound.

Even my closest friends wouldn’t touch that subject.

But here she was—someone I thought of as kind and gentle—throwing it in my face just because I complained about her son.

By the time dinner rolled around, I was pale and out of it.

Not that anyone seemed to care.

Marcia had made grilled steak for dinner. There were four of us, but she only grilled three.

And when it came time to serve, she gave me this pointed look and said, “Anyone who badmouths my son won’t get to eat the dish I make.”

My husband figured out what was going on pretty quick.

He looked at me and said, annoyed, “Are you seriously still upset about that bracelet? Are you really that materialistic? You think you’re gonna die without it?”

Then he let out this cold laugh.

“You don’t actually think my mom didn’t know, do you? That fake bracelet? It was her idea.”

I stared at Marcia, stunned. Of everyone in this family, she was the one I trusted most.

I couldn’t believe she was behind it!

“Why?”

But before I could get an answer, the door opened, and in walked an uninvited guest.

It was my husband’s childhood friend, Blossom Hoffs, with her son.

The kid ran in, all cheerful, and said, “Uncle Fred!”

Right away, my husband pulled a check from his wallet and handed it to the kid.

Fred always did this—every time Blossom brought her son over, he’d give the boy a check.

But this time, I didn’t even think. I reached out and snatched it right out of the kid’s hand.

I just want to know—if I’m not even worth a 1,000 dollars wedding gift, then how much is Blossom’s son worth to him?

No one saw my move coming.

I grabbed that check with no hesitation.

Well, well. I didn’t know how much it was, but when I looked at the figures, I was in for a shock.

It was… 1,000 dollars.

The injustice of it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Blossom’s kid says one little thing, and it’s worth 1,000 dollars. But for Fred, I’m not even worthy of a wedding gift?!

No wonder every time my husband comes home, Blossom and her son are right there with him.

It’s 1,000 dollars every time. That’s 12,000 dollars a year!

It all makes sense now. I make over 1,000 dollars a month, and he makes 500. How could we never have any money saved up? Turns out, all of it’s been going to Blossom’s son!

My husband realized what I’d done and grabbed the check back from me.

Then, in front of everyone, he… slapped me.

“You shameless bitch! How could you steal a gift for a kid? Are you even human?”

“I’m warning you—don’t act crazy. If you do this again, I swear I’ll beat you to death!”

He bent down and handed the check back to Blossom’s son.

“Good boy, hold on to it. Don’t let that evil woman take it again.”

I scoffed. “Blossom’s kid must mean a lot to you, huh? You wouldn’t even give me 1,000 dollars for a wedding gift, you tried to pass off a fake bracelet, but the minute he calls you ‘uncle,’ you hand over 1,000 dollars. What if he calls you ‘dad’? Are you gonna give him all our property?”

Back then, Blossom didn’t even consider my husband because she thought he was useless. She picked the town mayor’s son instead.

But not long after their wedding, the mayor got sent to jail.

The mayor’s son couldn’t handle the shame, got sick from the stress, and eventually died.

Since then, every time my husband comes back, he’s been giving Blossom these flirty looks.

But I was blind, totally blinded by love. I didn’t even notice.

Now, this fake bracelet opened my eyes.

My words set my husband off. He actually grabbed a plate and smashed it on my head!

But I didn’t even try to dodge. I let the blood pour down my forehead.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he yelled. “If you’re tired of living, just say it!”

“I just feel sorry for her—her and her poor kid. What’s wrong with having a little compassion?”

Then, Blossom played the saint, apologizing to me.

“I’m sorry, I never thought Freddie would hit you.”

She teared up and looked at Fred.

“Freddie, don’t be mad at Desiree. She just loves you too much.”

Then, she changed the subject.

“Desiree, you wouldn’t understand how hard it is to raise a child until you’ve been a mother. Once you have kids, you’ll get it.”

“And actually, I came today to tell you about a method I just found out about that can help you have a boy. But now it seems like my visit wasn’t even needed.”

The moment she mentioned children, not just my husband but even my in-laws looked uncomfortable.

It’s been five years since I married Fred, and we still don’t have a kid. My in-laws have been on my case about it non-stop.

As soon as Marcia heard “baby boy,” she grabbed Blossom’s hand with excitement.

“Really? What method? I knew you were so kind, you’d share it with us. My daughter-in-law doesn’t know what’s good for her. Don’t let her get to you.”

Blossom smiled sweetly. “Oh, how could I? Freddie has been so good to me, so no matter what Desiree thinks of me, of course, I’d still tell you.”

I just let out a cold laugh—no matter what they suggest, none of it’s gonna work now.

Because Fred couldn’t have kids.

He just couldn’t. But his pride wouldn’t let anyone know. Other than the two of us, no one had a clue.

Blossom shot me a look and said, “The solution is actually pretty simple. The real reason Desiree hasn’t gotten pregnant yet is because her parents died too early. There’s too much resentment lingering around them.”

She added, “I talked to someone. If you dig up her parents’ coffins and let them sit in the sun for two days, she’ll definitely be able to conceive.”

What absolute nonsense!

The thing I cherished most in this world was my parents, even though they were gone.

Blossom? She knew exactly what she was doing.

I snapped back, “This woman’s making things up. None of this has a scientific basis! Don’t believe a word she’s saying!”

But my in-laws? They were as desperate as it got.

And Blossom? She was playing right into their desperation.

If they bought into it, they’d actually go through with it.

And sure enough, my worst fear became reality.

After thinking it over for a moment, Marcia actually told Fred and Todd, my father-in-law, to dig up my parents’ graves!

Right then, my phone buzzed.

It was a message from Blossom. A taunt.

[Yeah, I did it on purpose. What are you gonna do about it? If you won’t divorce Fred, then I’ll make him destroy the one thing you care about most.]

I couldn’t even respond. I didn’t have time. My husband and Todd were already on their way out.

I had to run to block the door.

My husband glared at me as he warned me, “Move.”

But I stood my ground. There was no way I’d let them do this!

And then Blossom’s son decided to chime in. “Uncle, how can you let a girl stop you? Isn’t that embarrassing?”

That was it. My husband snapped.

He shoved me so hard, I hit the floor.

Then his fists came down, again and again, like a storm.

He grabbed my hair, yanking me up just to slam my head against the ground.

As he hit me, he shouted, “Since when do you get a say in this family? Huh?! Let me tell you, I’m digging up your parents’ graves whether you like it or not!”

Blood dripped from my forehead, where an old wound had reopened. It mixed with my hair, sticky and warm.

When he finally stopped hitting me, he threw me back onto the floor like trash.

Then the kicking started.

No one stopped him. They all just stood there, watching.

Even Marcia had something to say.

“Careful with her belly, son. Don’t damage her uterus. How’s she supposed to have kids if you ruin it?”

Every inch of my body was screaming in pain. Blood filled my mouth and nose, the metallic taste choking me.

And yet, I laughed.

The more I hurt, the harder I laughed.

Even my husband’s relentless assault slowed to a halt as my strange laughter echoed through the room.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” he demanded.

I looked right at him, laughing louder now.

“I’m laughing at you,” I said, my voice steady, mocking. “Laughing because you can never have kids.”

Hearing my words, everyone’s expressions shifted.

My husband, who prided himself on his reputation, was especially stunned—especially since I had said it in front of his precious childhood sweetheart.

He was livid. He grabbed me by the arm and said, “You love your parents so much, don’t you? Fine. I’ll make you watch me dig up their graves myself. Hell, I’ll even throw their bones out to feed the stray dogs. And it’s all your fault, Desiree!”

My legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor.

Still, he grabbed at my clothes, dragging me toward the door.

At that moment, I heard the sound of sirens.

I gasped for air, each breath feeling like a gulp of freedom.

I knew that letting him hit me hadn’t been in vain.

When the cops walked in, I thought they’d freak out.

But my mother-in-law merely cast them a calm glance.