“Hey, you old hag. Don’t think you can get away with locking me up in this place. Let me go home right now, you heartless woman!”
When I walked into my son’s hospital room, he saw me and erupted in anger, unleashing all his pent-up frustrations on me. One day, my son, Nathan—now a college student—collapsed at home and was rushed to the hospital. He needed surgery immediately, but my husband suggested we keep the severity from him for a few days. Now, Nathan was hurling insults at me with pure hatred.
“I’ve never thought of you as my mom. So, just get lost. Fake mom. Don’t show me your face!”
Even though he’s “my son,” Nathan is actually my husband Eric’s child from his previous marriage. We aren’t related by blood. And yet, my husband has never faced his son. He’s always been buried in his work, treating the whole situation like it’s someone else’s problem.
For over 10 years, I’ve been mistreated by this family. Treated like a free housekeeper. A “parasite” who works from home and “does nothing.”
Just when I was feeling utterly hopeless, my son’s friend shared some shocking information with me in the hospital waiting room. Listening to their story, I was in disbelief. It turned out my husband and son were hiding something so outrageous that they couldn’t tell anyone.
“Fine,” I thought, looking at Nathan’s furious face. “Just as my son wants, I’ll disappear from their lives.”
It’s ironic because it’s my in-laws who will suffer from this, but they don’t seem to realize it yet. When I revealed the truth to my husband and son, they started a physical fight right there in the hospital room. As I watched the “family” I once knew crumble before my eyes, I couldn’t help but smile to myself.
My name is Helen Murphy. I live in a small town and will be 45 this year. As a child, I got completely hooked on the internet, and my passion led me to start working from home at the age of 20. My days were fulfilling, immersed in doing what I loved. However, I started to feel a little anxious about my future as I hit 30 without meeting anyone special. That’s when I joined a matchmaking agency and met Eric.
Eric is three years older than me, a sociable real estate agent with a solid build—the complete opposite of me. But we clicked. And for Eric, a divorced dad raising a son on his own, I must have seemed like a stable, supportive partner.
“I’m a divorced guy with a kid, so it’s hard for me to find a girlfriend,” he’d said self-deprecatingly. I respected him for juggling work and raising his son, Nathan.
When I first met Nathan, he was in third grade. He was a lively, cheerful boy who shared his candy with me. It melted my heart. I had been diagnosed with fertility issues years prior, so I had given up on having a child of my own. Nathan felt like a gift.
We got married, and I moved into Eric’s house with him, Nathan, and Eric’s elderly mother, Susan. Everything seemed perfect. Or so I thought.
However, this marriage would soon plunge me into despair.
As soon as I started living with Eric’s family, the attitudes of all three of them changed drastically.
Nathan was spoiled rotten by his grandmother, Susan. He threw tantrums if he didn’t get high-calorie sweets and refused to eat vegetables. When I tried to manage his diet for his health, he’d scream, “What’s this disgusting food? You’re a terrible cook!” and overturn the plate.
When I scolded him, Susan would intervene. “Helen, why do you keep doing things that Nathan hates? This is just harassment. Poor Nathan.”
I approached Eric for help. “Nathan is going to end up unhealthy,” I pleaded.
“Give me a break. I’m swamped with work,” Eric dismissed me. “That’s your job now as his mom, isn’t it? My mom knows him best, just follow her lead.”
So, I tried to leave Nathan alone. His weight ballooned, his health deteriorated, and his behavior worsened. He stole money from my wallet, stayed out overnight, and treated me like a servant.
Ten years passed like this.
Now, Nathan is a college student, and the situation has reached a breaking point. He collapsed at home last week. I found him curled up on the floor, struggling to breathe. Even then, he lashed out: “Useless! Just get me to the hospital now!”
At the hospital, the doctor dropped the bombshell: Nathan had severe kidney failure. Without a transplant, his life was in danger.
“We need to get tested as potential donors,” Eric told me later. “Helen, I’m counting on you.”
“What about you?” I asked, stunned. “You’re his father.”
“I’m scared of surgery,” he whined. “What if something goes wrong? Please, get tested.”
After much arguing, Eric agreed to get tested too. The results were shocking. Despite my fertility issues, I was in perfect health and a compatible match. Eric, due to years of heavy drinking and untreated hypertension, was unsuitable. Susan was too old and ill.
I was the only one who could save Nathan.
“Well, at least now you’ll finally have a connection with Nathan,” Eric said, patting my shoulder dismissively. “Good luck with the surgery.”
I sat in the hospital lounge, head in my hands, resigning myself to the surgery. That’s when two young men sat at the table across from me. I recognized them as Nathan’s high school friends. They didn’t see me.
“Nathan looks bad,” one said. “Is this karma or what? Nathan’s a mess, but his dad’s even worse.”
I couldn’t help myself. “What do you mean by karma?” I asked.
They jumped, embarrassed. But when I told them I was Nathan’s stepmom and I had overheard, they reluctantly spilled the beans. What I heard froze my blood.
I walked into Nathan’s room with a new resolve. He screamed his usual insults: “Fake mom! Get lost!”
“Alright,” I said calmly. “I’ll disappear from your life just like you want. But before I go… don’t you want to know what’s really happening to you?”
“What are you talking about?” Nathan snapped.
“You have kidney failure,” I said. “Without a transplant, your life is in serious danger.”
Nathan’s arrogance vanished. “What?”
“I was the only compatible donor,” I continued. “But since you never want to see my face again, I’ve decided to grant your wish. I’m divorcing Eric. I won’t be your mom anymore. That means I won’t be donating my kidney either.”
“What?!” Nathan shouted. “You’re going to let me die? Give me that kidney!”
“Why should I?” I asked. “Eric, you’ve been telling everyone at work you only married me for a free maid. You thought my ‘work from home’ job was a joke. And you’ve been spending half your income on a mistress for two years, haven’t you?”
Eric turned pale. “How… how did you know?”
“I put a GPS tracker in your bag,” I said coldly. “And that mistress? She’s barely older than Nathan. It’s pathetic.”
“Shut up! We’re in love!” Eric shouted.
I laughed. “In love? That poor girl is taking advantage of you. And guess what, Eric? Nathan knows her too.”
I turned to Nathan. “You knew your dad was involved with that girl. She’s a senior from your high school. And after she graduated… you two met up and had a physical relationship, didn’t you?”
The room went dead silent. Eric looked at Nathan, eyes bulging.
“Nathan…” Eric whispered. “Is this true?”
Nathan looked away, guilty. “She was just using you for money! You were never around! I did it as revenge!”
“You slept with my girlfriend?!” Eric lunged at his son.
“She’s not your girlfriend, she’s a gold digger!” Nathan screamed back.
They started brawling right there in the hospital room, nurses rushing in to separate them. I quietly placed the divorce papers I’d prepared on the side table and walked out.
Update:
One month later, I returned to the house with my lawyer to finalize the divorce. Susan screamed at me immediately. “Give us back the money! We’re broke because of you! Ever since you left, the money has been disappearing!”
“I never took your money,” I said calmly. “Eric has been spending it on his mistress. And by the way, I’ve been supporting this household entirely with my own income for the last ten years.”
“You’re lying!” Susan shrieked. “You just type on a computer all day!”
“Yes,” I said. “I’m a novelist. A very successful one.”
I revealed my pen name. Their jaws dropped. My series had been adapted into anime and films. I was the primary breadwinner, not Eric.
“I had no idea…” Eric stammered, suddenly changing his tune. “Helen, honey… I’ll break it off with her. Just don’t divorce me! Help Nathan!”
“I refuse,” I said. “I’m suing you and your mistress for damages due to infidelity. Prepare yourselves.”
The divorce was finalized swiftly.
Two Years Later:
Susan passed away last month. Nathan is still in the hospital, waiting for a donor that hasn’t come. He dropped out of college and is alone.
Eric? His mistress dumped him the second the money dried up. He’s drowning in debt from my lawsuit and medical bills, working two jobs just to survive. He sold the house, which was recently demolished.
As for me? I’m back at my parents’ home, writing my next novel. I learned the hard way that family isn’t just blood, but how you treat people. And sometimes, the best revenge is simply walking away and letting people live with the consequences of their own actions.