When April’s husband dies, she loses more than just the love of her life. She loses her home. Forced to sleep in the garage while her cruel mother-in-law, Judith, takes everything, April has no choice but to endure. But when Judith falls gravely ill, she comes pleading for help. Will April choose revenge… or forgiveness?
I used to believe love could protect me from everything. That my husband, James, would always be there to catch me if I fell.
When he asked me to leave my career in finance to become a stay-at-home mom, he promised I’d never have to worry about anything. I loved him, so I agreed.
A woman sitting on a porch | Source: Midjourney
We had twin girls, Grace and Ella, who became our whole world.
And then, he died.
The call came one dull afternoon. James had rushed home from a business trip, anxious to see us. The roads were slippery, and his car skidded on the highway. The agent on the phone kept saying things like instant impact and absence of pain.
But all I heard was the sound of my own heart pounding in my ears.
The scene of a traffic accident | Source: Midjourney
The days blurred. The funeral came and went. I clung to my daughters, to the last voicemail James had left me, replaying it just to hear his voice.
I thought losing him was the worst thing that could happen to me.
I was wrong.
I had spent hours at the cemetery after the funeral. I just wanted to spend a few more moments with my husband before returning to reality.
A woman standing in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney
Judith, my mother-in-law, had taken the girls home.
“We’ll talk when you get back,” he said. “I’ll have the twins bathed and rest.”
When I came home from the funeral, Judith was waiting for me.
She was sitting in the living room, back straight, hands folded in her lap, staring at me with the same cold, calculating gaze as always.
A woman sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
“This house belongs to me, April,” he said. “I let James and you live here, but now I’m going to take it back.”
My breath caught in my throat. I felt like someone had just pushed me.
“Judith, I…”
I thought I heard her wrong.
“That?”.
She exhaled abruptly, as if she was already bored with the conversation.
An upset woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“James never changed the deed,” she said. “I gave him the option after the twins were born, but he never did. 88 So the house is still in my name. You can stay. But you’ll sleep in the garage.”
I stared at her, searching for a glimmer of humanity. Some sign that she was speaking out of pity, that she might retract it at any moment.
But he didn’t.
She just sat there waiting for me to break down.
A woman sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
He wanted me to beg him. He knew I was.
I looked at my daughters, their big, innocent, sleepy eyes watching me from the couch. They had already lost their father. I couldn’t let them lose their home too.
So I agreed.
Twin girls sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
The garage smelled of oil and rust. At night, the chill seeped in through the thin camping mat and comforter I slept on. The cold seeped into my bones every night. When it became too unbearable, I curled up in the backseat of the car, wrapping my arms around myself for warmth.
I told myself it was temporary.
James had left us money, but legal matters took time. And I had to be patient. Because until the lawyer finalized everything, I had nothing .
The inside of a garage | Source: Midjourney
No job, no access to our accounts, nowhere to go.
And even if I had someone to call, I couldn’t imagine saying the words out loud. Shame would have choked me.
I existed in silence. I only entered the house to cook and eat with the girls. To wash their clothes and kiss them goodnight. I moved around my own house like a stranger.
A woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
Now, even a month later, Judith barely recognized me. Why would she? She’d won.
One afternoon, I was sitting in the living room with my daughters. The colored pencils were rolling across the coffee table, scattering in all directions. Grace and Ella were sitting on the floor, legs crossed, their little hands clenched in the colors they had chosen, their faces contorted in deep concentration.
“I’m going to draw Dad’s eyes blue,” Grace said, clutching the paper tightly. “Like the ocean.”
Crayons on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney
She tilted her head, studying her drawing.
“Mine smiles. Dad always smiled,” he said, a smile spreading across his face.
I swallowed to avoid the lump in my throat.
“I did,” I muttered.
Smiling girls | Source: Midjourney
The air felt thick, heavy with the weight of unspoken things. The only sounds were the scratching of pencil against paper and the occasional scrape of little feet against the carpet.
I ran my fingers along the edge of a blank sheet of paper, determined to maintain my composure.
Then, She spoke.
“Mother?”.
I looked up.
“Yes, honey? What’s wrong?”
A Disgruntled Woman | Source: Midjourney
She hesitated, biting her lower lip.
“Why do you sleep in the garage?”
My hands became still.
Grace also looked up, her expression open and trusting. It was the same expression James used when he wanted the girls to tell him their nightmares.
A sad girl | Source: Midjourney
“Yes,” he said. “Grandma sleeps in your bed. Why don’t you sleep there?”
A sharp, twisting pain settled in my chest.
I forced a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind Ella’s ear.
“Because sometimes adults have to make difficult, small decisions. It’s not always pleasant, but there’s always a bigger reason.”
A close-up of a girl | Source: Midjourney
She frowned. I could see thoughts forming in her head.
“But you’re Dad’s wife,” he said simply.
Those words left the air in my lungs.
“I am,” I whispered. “I’m Dad’s wife, yes.”
Close-up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
Grace blinked, waiting for me. I hadn’t realized my daughters clung to those thoughts.
“So why does Grandma have the big bed?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
There was a creaking noise in the hallway. I looked up, and there, around the corner…
An older woman standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney
There was Judith.
He wasn’t looking at me . He was watching them .
Her hands were clutching the door frame, her face pale, and her lips pressed into a thin line. For the first time, she looked like a woman who had made a terrible mistake.
But he didn’t say a word.
He stood there, listening. And when I didn’t answer my daughters, he turned around and walked away.
A woman walking down a hallway | Source: Midjourney
And then, one night, there was a knock on the garage door. I opened it and found Judith standing there.
But she wasn’t the same woman who had banished me. For the first time in a long time, I looked at her.
His usually immaculate hair was disheveled, and the gray hairs were more pronounced. His face, always so rigid with control, was pale and sunken. His lips were dry and chapped.
And his hands… his hands were shaking uncontrollably.
A woman in front of a door | Source: Midjourney
I frowned.
Had she always been so thin? I cooked every day, making sure there was more than enough food for the four of us. Had Judith not eaten?
He swallowed, and when he spoke, his voice broke.
“April, please.”
I didn’t say anything.
A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
She blinked rapidly, as if trying to hold back tears.
“I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
Wait.
He exhaled shakily and then whispered.
“I’m sick…” she said.
A close-up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney
She pressed her lips together, and for the first time, I saw something I’d never seen in her before.
Fear.
I should have felt vindicated. I should have relished the moment before me, desperate and vulnerable. But I only felt exhaustion.
“What do you want?” I asked, my voice hollow.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
Close-up of a woman wearing a tunic | Source: Midjourney
“The doctors say it’s bad. And I can’t help thinking that maybe… maybe this is my punishment.”
I crossed my arms. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Why? For throwing your widowed daughter-in-law into a garage?”
She flinched, as if I had slapped her.
A close-up of an older woman | Source: Midjourney
“For everything, April. For how I treated you, baby. For how I pushed people away.”
Silence fell between us.
Then he reached into his coat and pulled out a stack of papers.
“I’ve transferred the house to you and the girls, April,” he said. “It’s yours now. Officially. Just as it always should have been.”
“Why?” My stomach tightened.
A woman holding a stack of papers | Source: Midjourney
“Because I don’t have anyone else.”
I stared at the papers in my hands. This was what I’d been waiting for, proof that I’d never have to beg again. That I’d never have to fear being kicked out again.
But Judith’s face was lined with regret. And in that moment, I saw her not as my personal executioner, but as a woman who had finally realized the weight of her own cruelty.
A woman holding a stack of papers | Source: Midjourney
I stepped aside and gestured for her to come into the garage.
“Come in,” I said.
His breath caught in his throat.
“It’s cold here,” he said.
“I know, but you get used to it,” I replied.
For the first time, the woman who had previously looked at me as if I were nothing began to cry.
A woman inside a garage | Source: Midjourney
The guest room still didn’t seem like hers. She could see it. The way she moved around it, like a stranger, making sure everything was exactly where it had been.
Judith sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, her hands folded in her lap, staring at the teacup I had placed on the bedside table.
The soft glow from the bedside lamp cast shadows over her face, making her look small.
The interior of a guest bedroom | Source: Midjourney
It was the first night since I’d returned home and Judith had moved into the guest room. Everything seemed… strange.
And I wasn’t sure how I felt about being in the same room James and I had shared for so long. But I was grateful to be back inside.
Now I was sitting across from Judith, putting my legs up on the chair and holding my own cup in my hands.
An older woman sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney
The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, but not hostile.
It was she who broke it.
“I have cancer,” he said softly. “Stage three.”
I exhaled slowly. We both knew it was serious, but hearing those words gave me a strange sinking feeling in my chest.
A woman sitting in an armchair | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know what’s going to happen now,” he admitted.
His hands trembled slightly as he caressed the rim of the cup.
“I’m scared, April.”
“I know,” I said, nodding. “But you’re not alone, Judith. I’m here. The twins are here to hug you and laugh.”
“I don’t deserve it… after all…”
A woman sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney
“Probably not,” I said, cutting her off before she could spiral into guilt. “But Grace and Ella love you. And whether you like it or not, you’re part of this family.”
A lump formed in her throat and she let out a shaky breath.
“James would want us to look out for each other.”
“Yes,” I replied. “I would like that.”
A woman sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
Judith exhaled sharply and ran a hand over her face.
“God, I’m going to eat so much damn soup, aren’t I?”
I snorted.
“Of course! Soup, herbal tea, all the nutritious foods you didn’t want to touch before.”
A bowl of soup | Source: Midjourney
He grimaced.
“Can’t we pretend that wine is medicinal?”
I laughed, and to my surprise, Judith laughed too.
It wasn’t perfect. It wouldn’t be easy. But in that moment, I knew we were going to be okay.
A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney
Because despite everything, we were a family.
After that, I took Judith to every doctor’s appointment I could. I wanted to go back to work, but I thought this was more important right now.
We had the money James had left and we would use it until I was back in action.
A woman driving a car | Source: Midjourney
The doctor’s office smelled sterile, the antiseptic strong. Judith sat next to me, her hands clasped in her lap, her knuckles bone-white.
Dr. Patel, a man in his fifties with kind eyes, adjusted his glasses and flipped through Judith’s chart.
“The biopsy confirms it’s stage three,” he said gently. “We need to start treatment as soon as possible. Chemotherapy, radiation therapy… It won’t be easy, but it’s still treatable.”
A doctor sitting at his desk | Source: Midjourney
Judith nodded stiffly, as if the diagnosis hadn’t just put a clock on her life.
I looked at her, waiting for her to say something. She didn’t.
“Will he need surgery?” I asked, filling the silence.
The doctor nodded slightly.
A woman sitting in a doctor’s office | Source: Midjourney
“Over time, yes. But first we’ll focus on shrinking the tumor. It’s going to be a long road.”
“I know,” Judith said, letting out a sigh.
It was the first time I saw her get smaller.
“Do you have a support system? Family members who can help you?” he asked.
Judith hesitated.
A woman sitting in a doctor’s office | Source: Midjourney
“She has us,” I said, my voice firm. “She won’t go through this alone.”
I reached out and covered hers with my own. Judith’s fingers twitched beneath mine, as if she wasn’t used to being held.
“Well, that makes a difference,” said the doctor, smiling.
Judith didn’t speak the entire way home. But when we reached the entrance, she exhaled shakily.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you, April. Thank you for being so wonderful.”
“We’ll get through this,” I said.
For the first time, he nodded as if he believed me.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
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This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to real events is purely coincidental and not the author’s intention.
The author and publisher do not guarantee the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters, and are not responsible for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and the opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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