My mother-in-law made my life hell during my postpartum recovery. Even when I jumped off the roof, she showed no remorse. Given a second chance at life, I decided I wouldn't tolerate it anymore. I was determined to teach that mother and son a lesson. 1 "You couldn't even give me a grandson, so what's wrong with me finding someone else?" I stood on the rooftop, holding my three-month-old daughter. The wind howled, carrying my mother-in-law's voice even further. She'd always been materialistic, blatantly favoring boys over girls, incredibly two-faced – saying one thing to your face and another behind your back. Before the wedding, she showered me with sweet talk, making me dizzy with promises, convincing me to ignore my parents' objections and marry Jake. After the wedding, the mask came off, revealing a monster. My husband, Jake, wasn't the sharp, capable man he'd pretended to be. Quite the opposite – lazy and a total mama's boy. After our daughter was born, he barely visited, letting his mother "take care" of me during my recovery. When I finally got out of that postpartum haze and went looking for him, I found out he'd secretly bought a house, and there was a pregnant woman living in it. The postpartum period is rough enough, prone to physical and emotional issues. The constant gloom plunged me into postpartum depression. So, after that series of blows, I ended up on the rooftop. I looked at my daughter in my arms and managed a weak smile. Behind me, my mother-in-law was already starting her usual drama queen routine. Spouting nonsense like, "Our family needs an heir! How dare a woman who can't even produce a son think about ending her life!" I tuned her out like background noise. Gently, I stroked my daughter's soft cheek. Sweet baby girl, maybe in the next life, if we're lucky, you can be Mommy's daughter again. As I jumped, I turned and saw my parents' faces. Suddenly, it hit me – I'd lived such a pathetic life, letting everyone down. If there was a next life... If I could just start over... 2 "Honey, I need some cash right now. Mom says Mr. Johnson's factory is having cash flow problems. If we invest, we can get a stake in the business!" Jake's excited voice buzzed in my ear. My mother-in-law sat beside him, egging him on. "Ashley, you're pretty far along now, almost due. Keep enough for the hospital bills, but give the rest to Jake for his business venture!" My head felt foggy as I looked at the familiar scene, instinctively touching my belly. At this point, I was seven months pregnant. Right on schedule for Jake asking for money for his "business." Just like last time. Last time, seeing Jake so ambitious, I took $25,000 out of the $30,000 my parents gave me as a wedding gift and handed it over, fully supporting his "career." During that period, my mother-in-law and Jake were sickeningly sweet to me, showering me with attention. It was almost overwhelming. That was the best treatment I got after they found out I was carrying a girl. But did that money really go into a business? Nope. His mother had introduced Jake to another girl. That pair, mother and son, conned $25,000 out of me to make a down payment on a house for her. I let out a cold snort, looking at the fawning duo with a half-smile. "Mom, I can give you the money, but when are Jake and I actually going to get our marriage license?" Her eyes darted around nervously, looking from Jake to me. Jake didn't dare speak either. I leaned back on the couch, flashing the same sweet smile I used to, and asked again. She slapped her thigh abruptly, annoyance flashing across her face. "Obviously, after you've given our family an heir, a son! Then we'll get the license!" I agreed softly, "Okay, I'll transfer the money to your account tomorrow." Hearing this, Jake and his mother couldn't hide their excitement. Sitting across from them, I smirked inwardly. A marriage license? Jake had already married that other woman. How could he possibly marry me? This time, I'll make sure this mother and son get exactly what they deserve. 3 The next morning, my mother-in-law knocked on my bedroom door early. Her voice was syrupy sweet, "Ashley, breakfast is ready!" I fumbled for my phone on the big bed. 7 AM. She really couldn't wait. I mumbled an acknowledgment, slowly put on my robe, and went into the en-suite bathroom to wash up. After dawdling for half an hour, ignoring her constant calls, I finally emerged. The moment I stepped out, the door to the adjacent room opened too. Jake, hair sticking up like a bird's nest, groggily started venting his morning grumpiness, "Mom, what's all the racket this early? Can't a guy get some sleep!" His mother shrieked, "Why were you sleeping in that room? Ashley, how could you let Jake sleep in that dumpy room!" I ignored her and walked straight to the dining table. Gotta hand it to her, she really pulled out all the stops for my money. There must have been eighteen different breakfast dishes. I picked up a fried egg, put it on my plate, and took a careful sip of the slightly too-hot oatmeal. Seeing me ignore her, she grabbed Jake and stood beside me, snatching the bowl out of my hand. "Ashley, I'm talking to you! That little room has nothing in it but a crappy old mattress! How could you make Jake sleep there!" "Jake snores so loudly at night, I can't sleep. If he doesn't stay there, should he sleep with you instead?" Just looking at Jake made me sick now; sharing a room was out of the question. Last night, when he tried to get into bed, I kicked him out and sent him to the unfinished guest room. Jake initially refused, but I just stared at him coldly and asked flatly, "Do you still want that twenty-five thousand or not?" His face turned pale, and he obediently grabbed his pillow and shuffled off to the next room. My mother-in-law wouldn't let it go. "Why are you so delicate? Back in my day, women worked in the fields while pregnant! How can a little snoring bother you?" "Aren't you afraid your man will run off to another woman's bed!" I glanced at her, a cryptic smile playing on my lips. Isn't Jake already in another woman's bed? But I couldn't expose them yet. Not the right time. I decided to mimic her shrewish behavior, only worse. With one sweep of my arm, I sent the lavish breakfast crashing to the floor. Porcelain plates and bowls shattered, the clattering sound like music to my ears. My mother-in-law and Jake froze, stunned. Jake reacted first, rolling up his sleeves and storming towards me menacingly. "Ashley, how dare you throw a tantrum at my mom?" I raised an eyebrow, unfazed, and used my trump card again. "What? You gonna hit me? I guess you don't want that twenty-five thousand after all!" Jake froze mid-stride. His mother forced a strained smile onto her ugly face. I knew it. This pair only bullied me because they thought I was weak. Try to bully me now? Not a chance. 4 The money had to be given, but I wasn't going to make it easy for them. Yesterday I told them I'd go to the bank today. But after this morning's scene, did they really expect me to just trot off to the bank? No way. I nonchalantly dropped the line, "I'm not in a good mood. I'm going back to my parents' place for a bit. We can go to the bank another day." Without waiting to see their reactions, I steadied myself with my hand on my belly and slowly went back to my room to pack. Behind me, my mother-in-law put on a show of scolding Jake, her voice loud enough for me to hear clearly. "Jake! You ungrateful son! How could you almost raise a hand to Ashley! She's carrying your child! Are you trying to kill your mother with anger!" Jake mumbled apologies to his mom. Quite the actors, really treating me like an idiot. And Jake – he wanted to hit me, why was he apologizing to his mom? I rolled my eyes behind their backs, muttered "Hypocrites," and slammed my bedroom door shut with a bang. The voices outside quieted, but I could still faintly hear them. "Son, are you stupid? Wait until we get the money, then you can hit her all you want! If you scare her off now and she doesn't give us the money, what about... over there?" Disgusting. Looked decent enough, but couldn't speak or act like a human being. Planning to hit me once the money was secured? I won't give you the chance. I knew who "over there" was – that other woman. She was pressuring Jake to buy the house. But what did that have to do with me? Let Jake deal with his own headache. Since Jake had shown he might get violent, I definitely couldn't stay under the same roof. If he actually hit me, I'd have no one to turn to. I packed my clothes and dug out the property deed from the closet. I opened it and planted a big kiss on the page showing only my name. Jake came from a rural background, clawing his way up through college. I was a city girl, raised comfortably. My family was well-off, and I'd met plenty of rich kids. But Jake presented himself as hardworking, down-to-earth, and kind, with a decent face – different from anyone I knew. We fell in love quickly in college, and after graduation, I married him despite my parents' strong objections. My parents were furious at my stubbornness, practically wanting to crack my head open to see what was inside. But in the end, they relented and agreed to the marriage. I remembered my dad, wiping away tears in anger, shoving this deed and a bank card at me. "This is the house I bought for you, and the money in this card is your dowry. Don't bother coming back to see your mother and me. We'll pretend we never had a daughter." I didn't say anything then, just took Jake's arm and left. I even complained that the 1500-square-foot house was too small. But now, I was incredibly grateful. Thank goodness I hadn't impulsively added Jake's name to the deed, otherwise, I'd have no way to kick this mother-son duo out later. I packed all my valuables into my suitcase and walked out under their watchful eyes, head held high. 5 Instead of going straight to my parents' house, I went to the hospital first. Last time, my daughter was premature, which made her frail. I needed to check on the baby's condition this time around. "Your baby is positioned very low. You should be on bed rest during the third trimester." I clutched the check-up report, the doctor's words echoing in my ears. I was already seven months pregnant. In these seven months, I'd only had two proper prenatal checks, both at small clinics. One was to determine the baby's sex, the other because of sudden abdominal pain. I wanted to go to the main city hospital, but my mother-in-law always said it was unnecessary. "As long as the baby's healthy, why waste the money?" After the first check revealed it was a girl, my mother-in-law threw the ultrasound report at my head right then and there, yelling, "Useless! A good-for-nothing can only produce another good-for-nothing! Our family line is going to end with you!" The second time was the sudden pain. I was so panicked I didn't notice my mother-in-law's reaction, just kept urging Jake to get me to the hospital. Thinking back now, her expression was clearly one of suppressed excitement and joy! I never even got a glimpse of the test results from that visit; Jake and his mother hid them completely. Jake even offered fake comfort, saying, "It's nothing, you just got too emotional, there was a risk of miscarriage." At the time, I wondered how that could be. I'd been trying hard to stay calm and avoid getting angry. How could "being too emotional" cause a threatened miscarriage? Thinking of this, I looked down at the report in my hand again, gripping it so tightly my knuckles turned white. I remembered my mother-in-law constantly nagging me, "Ashley, you have to walk around a lot before giving birth, that way you won't have a difficult labor." She repeated this almost daily. Luckily, back then I was genuinely scared of miscarrying, so I stayed put on bed rest for a while, which saved the baby. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. If I hadn't come to the hospital today, wouldn't my baby have suffered the same fate as last time? I clenched my teeth and cursed under my breath, "That old witch, always plotting how to harm me, never doing anything decent!" But right now, none of that mattered. The only thing in my head was "bed rest, protect the baby." I ignored Jake's incessant calls, carefully cradling my belly as I walked to the hospital entrance and hailed a cab. 6 This was the first time I'd been home in the three years since I married Jake. The furniture in the house hadn't changed; it still felt familiar and warm. When I walked in, my parents were snuggled on the sofa watching TV. From the doorway, I could see their graying hair. They looked much older than three years ago. My nose stung, and I couldn't even manage to call out "Mom, Dad." For them, it was seeing the daughter they'd essentially cut ties with for three years. For me, it was the unspeakable regret spanning two lifetimes, separated by death. I stood in the doorway, pregnant, pulling my suitcase, momentarily speechless. My mom spotted me first. She froze, then nudged my dad urgently, "She's home! Look, Ashley's home!" My dad didn't turn around immediately. As I stepped further inside, I couldn't hold back anymore. I threw myself into my mom's arms and sobbed uncontrollably. Mom held me tight, crying with me, gently patting my back. "You stubborn girl! Said you wouldn't come back and really meant it! Did you think Mom and Dad would actually disown you?" I buried my head in her shoulder, shaking my head. My dad sighed heavily beside us. "You got hurt, didn't you? Told you not to marry him! You wouldn't listen. Would your parents ever steer you wrong?" I looked up at him. His aged eyes were filled with tears, a deep, undeniable pain in them. My parents' faces merged with the last image I saw before I jumped in my previous life. Wiping my tears, I forced a smile. "Dad, you were right. Jake is no good. But I'll make sure he pays for what he did!" My parents didn't ask what exactly happened. But a married daughter, heavily pregnant, showing up at her parents' doorstep looking disheveled and pulling a suitcase – it was obvious she'd been through hell. My dad nodded, patting my shoulder. "It's okay if you took a wrong turn for a while. The important thing is to turn back."
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