She never liked me. < img src = "https://zycie.news/crrops/7f7d37/620x0/1/0/2025/04/23/gphc9z0saivkzgqlql8ltxrhnz1icpjo3usfxmtcta.jpg" alt = "old lady @pexels" styles = "background-color: rgba (126,127,111.1)" > < p > from the first day. Even before I said & ampquo; yes & rdquo; Her son, she was already looking at me like a threat. As if I had to take something from him & ndash; Love, attention, money. Throughout our marriage, she found the oacute; d power to humiliate me.

< p > & ampquo; salt soup. < p > Husband & ndash; Her beloved only child & ndash; He never stood on my side. M & oacute; it was that she was like her nature. And I endured. Because I believed that a family is more than good relationships & ndash; It's a duty. I endured 12 years. Then I could not.

< p > Divine & oacute; d was painful. He went to the younger. She could finally breathe & ndash; She got rid of me. We haven't seen each other for years. Until that night.

< p > The phone rang at 2: 41.

< p > I looked at the screen. & AMP; BDQUO; Mother of her ex -husband & AMP; RDQUO; & ndash; This contact has been, like an old scarce trace.

< p > I picked up with hesitation. On the other side the voice was trembling, which I would not know if it wasn't for the name.

< p > & ndash; I'm sorry I am calling & Hellip; I & Hellip; I didn't know who. Son … said he had more important things. And I … I can't get up from & Żka. I'm afraid.

< p > I didn't know what to say. A woman who has received my dignity for years for years, now begged me for help.

< p > I took the keys. I went.

< p > lay in & oacute; Żku. Sam. In a nightgown. Red eyes from crying. When she saw me, she looked down.

< p > & ndash; I thought & Hellip; that you will not come & ndash; whispered.

< p > & ndash; I thought so too & ndash; I answered softly.

< p > I stayed with her all night. I brewed tea. I covered with a blanket. I gave the medicine. And I didn't ask why her son, the beloved one, didn't come. Because I knew. It moved as much as I used to be from me.

< p > in the morning when I left, she squeezed my hand and whispered:

< p > & ndash; I did not deserve, but thank you.

< p > I didn't answer. Because sometimes words don't matter anymore. Only deeds count.

< p > because maybe she hated me all my life. < br /> but when she really needed a man & ndash; I was the one.

< P >< br />< Strong > see, as we wrote about in recent days: from life taken. “Instead of my doctor, my C & Amp; Oacute; Rka chose a worker”: I'm afraid that she won't give her life, on which & oacute; Re deserves

Natasha Kumar

By Natasha Kumar

Natasha Kumar has been a reporter on the news desk since 2018. Before that she wrote about young adolescence and family dynamics for Styles and was the legal affairs correspondent for the Metro desk. Before joining The Times Hub, Natasha Kumar worked as a staff writer at the Village Voice and a freelancer for Newsday, The Wall Street Journal, GQ and Mirabella. To get in touch, contact me through my natasha@thetimeshub.in 1-800-268-7116