Before my mom passed away, she made me a bag of sandwiches.

I treasured them like gold and couldn't bring myself to eat them, so I froze them in the fridge.

After her cremation, I followed her wishes and took her back to her hometown for burial.

My husband, however, made excuses and refused to go with me.

Before I left, I told him not to touch the sandwiches in the fridge, as they were my mom's final gift to me.

He was in the study, tapping away at his keyboard, and just lazily said, "Okay."

After handling the funeral arrangements, I came home early. When I opened the door, I saw him cooking with his friend, Marisa Bright.

Marisa was wearing my husband's clothes and holding the sandwiches my mom had made for me.

***

"I'm like a guy, and I'm not used to women's clothes, so I had to wear Devon's old clothes. We've always done this since we were little. Don't be upset, Candy," Marisa said.

She nervously buttoned up her shirt as I stared at her.

She was wearing Devon Benton's shirt, showing off one shoulder and her bare legs.

Normally, I would have fought with Devon.

But right now, all my attention was on the sandwiches in Marisa's hands.

Devon didn't even look up, acting bored.

"Why are you back early?" he asked.

"Candy, you just got off the plane and haven't eaten, right? Sit down and have some food," Marisa said.

She sounded as if she were the hostess of the house.

Before I could respond, she sat down, took a bite, and spat it out.

"Why are there shrimp in here? I'm allergic to seafood," Marisa said, dumping all the sandwiches into the dog's bowl.

She had brought over her dog.

"Devon, you should have Candy make something else next time. I don't like these," she added.

I was trembling with rage, speechless.

The sandwiches were my mom's last gift.

She made seventeen sandwiches despite her illness, worried I wouldn't eat properly after she was gone.

I had told Devon not to touch them.

They were a symbol of my mother's love.

They were the last things that could remind me of her.

But now...

"Didn't I say not to touch those sandwiches?" I shouted.

"When did you say that? Anyway, go make some food for Marisa," Devon snorted, not noticing my anger.

Unable to bear it any longer, I grabbed the pot from the table and threw it down.

Marisa, standing nearby, got splashed with hot soup.

"What are you doing?" Marisa jumped up, covering her burned arm and glaring at me.

"Enough, Candy! Is losing my mom that impressive? Who gave you the right to take it out on Marisa? Apologize to her now," Devon snapped.

We had been married for three years and known each other for seven, but Devon never defended me like this before.

I thought he was just introverted and bad at expressing himself.

I never imagined he had given his affection to another woman.

Devon nervously took Marisa's hand and gently blew on it. "It's okay, Marisa. Don't worry."

That hot soup felt like it had been poured over my heart, burning it.

"Devon, do you know what you're eating?" I asked.

"Just some sandwiches. What's the big deal? You're just being petty and jealous of Marisa. I told you. We're buddies," he replied.

Marisa chimed in, "Devon, I'm different from those jealous women. You don't have to worry about me. Just go comfort your wife."

I was so furious that tears streamed down my face.

"That was a memory from my mom. She made those sandwiches for me right before she died," I said.

Devon looked up, frowning deeply.

"Stop talking nonsense. What kind of condition was your mom in? How could she make sandwiches? Can you think before you lie?" he retorted.

The power of a mother's love was immense.

Before she passed away, my mom had a moment of clarity. She asked someone to buy the freshest shrimp and vegetables.

She peeled the shrimp, washed the vegetables, and made the dough all by herself.

Wearing an oxygen mask, she could barely knead the dough with her frail hands, yet she insisted on finishing those sandwiches for me.

Before she died, my mom held my hand tightly, not wanting to let go.

"I wanted to make you twenty, but I just don't have the strength. I only made seventeen. After I'm gone, remember to take care of yourself," she said.

She had made those sandwiches from morning till night.

On the day of her cremation, I couldn't eat anything.

In the end, I heated five sandwiches, but I didn't feel hungry at all the whole day.

I froze the remaining twelve.

Those twelve sandwiches were the pillars of my mother's love, holding up my life.

As long as I had that box of sandwiches, it felt like my mom hadn't left me.

But now, Devon and Marisa had ruined everything.

They made my mother die again.

"I told you not to touch that bag of sandwiches before I left. There's so much food in the fridge. Why did you have to touch that bag?" I said.

By this point, I was sobbing uncontrollably.

Devon's brow furrowed tighter.

We had fought before, and he knew I was stubborn and wouldn't cry easily.

"Okay, it's just a bag of frozen sandwiches. Stop making a scene. I'll compensate you. There's a supermarket downstairs. How about three bags?" he said.

His indifferent attitude made me realize he never thought about where that bag of sandwiches came from.

He never took my words to heart.

From the sandwiches to every little thing in life, he chose to ignore anything related to me.

"Does it matter, Devon? Those sandwiches were made by my mom when she was gravely ill. They are one of a kind—something money can't buy," I said.

Marisa scoffed, "You can come up with anything to compete for attention. I'm different. I wouldn't put Devon in a tough spot."

"Did you hear that? I'll buy you sandwiches, but you have to apologize to Marisa first," Devon said.

Marisa, not again.

In Devon's heart and eyes, there was only Marisa.

He didn't care how sad I was about losing my mom or how exhausted I was handling everything alone.

He only cared if Marisa was hurt or angry.

Tears flowed continuously down my face.

But before I could speak, Devon slapped me across the face.

At that moment, I felt like my world had fallen apart.

Devon's slap shattered my already broken heart.

I said through tears, "Fine, if you only care about Marisa, then I'll leave. This home is yours now."

I grabbed everything in front of me and threw it at Devon's face, then turned and walked away.

I cried as I walked, suddenly feeling how vast the world was, and I couldn't find a single place to belong.

My mom was gone, and I had no home.

Before she passed away, she kept saying how glad she was to see me married.

That way, after she was gone, I wouldn't be all alone.

But there would never be anyone who could love me like she did, giving everything for me.

I wished I could trade everything I had to have her back, healthy and by my side.

Exhausted from all the emotional pain, I suddenly felt darkness closing in and collapsed.