At first, I thought she would never dare to leave. Her parents’ house is in Lucknow, about 500 kilometers away. In Davao, she doesn’t know anyone but me. I don’t even have access to all the money in the house. With that thought, I slept soundly, propped up with a high pillow, next to my mother.

My mother, Sharda Devi, has always seen herself as a sacrifice to the family and expected her daughter-in-law to be completely obedient. I thought, “As a son, it’s your duty to take care of your parents. A woman only has to put up with a little, what’s wrong with that?”

My wife, Anita, is from another city. We met while we were studying in Davao. When we talked about marriage, my mother strongly objected.

– “The girl’s family lives far away; it will be exhausting going back and forth all the time.”

Anita cried, but she was determined:
– “Don’t worry, I’ll be your daughter-in-law and I’ll take care of your family. I may not be able to visit my parents more than once a year.”

In the end, I begged my mother, and she reluctantly agreed. But from then on, every time I wanted to take my wife and children to my parents’ house, she found excuses to avoid it.

Conflicts with the mother-in-law

When our first child was born, Anita began to change. Differences arose about how to raise him. I thought, “My mother only wants what’s best for her grandson, what’s wrong with following her advice?”

But Anita refused. Sometimes they argued even about things like giving the child milk or baby food. My mother would get angry, break dishes, and then be sick for a week.

Recently, when we took the baby to my mother’s house, the situation worsened. The child had a high fever and seizures. My mother blamed Anita.

– “Don’t I know how to protect my grandson? How could you let him get so sick?”

I felt my mother was right. I blamed Anita, and she began to openly show her frustration.

The fight and the night in the warehouse

That night, Anita didn’t sleep, taking care of the child. I, tired from the long trip, went upstairs to sleep with my parents.

The next morning, relatives arrived for a visit. My mother gave Anita 1,000 rupees and asked her to go to the market to buy groceries to prepare food for the guests. I saw that my wife was exhausted, but just as she was about to say something, my mother shouted:

– “If someone goes to the market, people laugh at them! I was up all night too, and I’ll be working in the morning. She’s the daughter-in-law, she should be in charge of the kitchen!”

Anita, still lying down, replied:
– “I was awake all night taking care of your grandson. These guests are yours, not mine. I am your daughter-in-law, not a servant.”

My mother and I looked at each other. I felt ashamed in front of our relatives. Enraged, I dragged Anita to the storage room and forced her to sleep there. No mattress, no blanket. I told her, “This time I have to be strict, so you don’t argue with your mother-in-law again.”

The following morning

The next day, when I opened the warehouse door… Anita was no longer there.

I got scared and ran to my mother to tell her. She was surprised too, and immediately called the whole family to look for her. A neighbor said:

“Last night I saw her crying, dragging her suitcase down the street. I gave her some money so she could take a taxi back to her parents’ house. She said her in-laws treated her like a servant, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She’s about to get a divorce.”

I was in shock. After a long time, Anita answered my call. Her voice was cold:

“I’m at my parents’ house. I’ll be filing for divorce in a few days. Our son is 3 years old; of course he’ll stay with me. The property will be divided in half.”

My heart was pounding. When I told my mother, she said:

– “He’s threatening. He won’t dare.”

But I knew Anita wasn’t the same anymore. This time, maybe I’d really lost her…

Part 2: The Divorce Papers

Three days after returning to Lucknow, Anita sent me a brown envelope. Inside were divorce papers, stamped by the local court. She clearly stated the reason:

“I was mentally abused by my husband and his family. They treated me like a servant, with no respect for my dignity.”

My hands trembled as I held the papers. Deep down, I still hoped she would come back. But Anita had already made up her mind.

My mother, Sharda Devi, was furious when she found out:

– “How dare she? A divorced woman is a disgrace to her family! Leave her alone! She’ll come crawling back!”

But unlike her, I wasn’t angry. I was terrified. If we divorce, I’ll lose custody of my son. Under Indian law, children under three years old must stay with their mother.

Family and public pressure

The news spread quickly among the family in Jaipur. Some blamed me.

– “Raj, you were a fool. Your wife just gave birth and you forced her to sleep in the warehouse. Isn’t that cruel?”

Others said:

“The whole town knows. The Kapoor family is notorious for mistreating their daughters-in-law. Who will want to marry into your family in the future?”

I clutched my head, too afraid to reply. Every word of criticism pierced me like a knife.

The pain of losing a child

That night, I secretly called Anita. She answered, and on the screen I saw our son sleeping in her lap. My heart ached when I saw his little face. I said to her:

– “Anita, at least let me see him. I miss him terribly.”

She looked at me, her eyes cold:

– “Now you remember your son? And what about me, who was thrown into the warehouse and treated like a slave? Don’t you remember me? Raj, it’s too late. I won’t be coming back.”

Tears ran down my face.

Late repentance

In the following days, I became like a soulless body. I couldn’t concentrate on work. Every night I dreamed that Anita left with our son, and I chased after her in vain.

I began to understand: for the past two years, I had only listened to my mother, forcing Anita to endure and remain silent. I didn’t protect her, I didn’t stand up for her—for that woman who gave up everything for me.

Now, the price to pay was losing her and my son.

The harsh reality

One morning, my aunt approached me and touched my shoulder:

“Raj, some advice. When a woman files for divorce, it’s difficult to change her mind. You only have two options: accept it or humiliate yourself and beg for forgiveness. But remember, this is no longer a personal matter; now it affects the honor of the Kapoor family.”

I sat in silence. The pressure from my mother, relatives, and public opinion weighed heavily on my shoulders. But my greatest fear remained the same: never to hear my son call me “Dad” again each morning.

The climax is approaching

That night, I went out alone into the yard, gazing at the starry sky, my heart filled with anxiety. I knew I was about to lose everything… or I had to do something I’d never done before: stand up to my mother and fight to get my wife and son back.