One day, I heard some strange noises coming from Mrs. Gloria Bennett’s room. At first, I thought Mr. Charles Bennett had come home. But to my shock, it wasn’t him at all—Mrs. Bennett was having an affair! She knew I wouldn’t dare reveal her secret and continued acting with complete disregard. But just a few days later, she was diagnosed with HIV. And the man she was having an affair with… he was dead. It was a hot summer day, and the cicadas were chirping loudly outside. Half-asleep, I shifted in bed, only to be jolted awake by a sharp sting in my finger. Frustrated, I was now wide awake. It had been a terrible day. Earlier in the afternoon, I had gone out to pick up some groceries. Some mischievous kid had left a needle on the seat of a public bike, and I sat on it. To make matters worse, after getting home, Mrs. Bennett criticized me for not even being able to toss a proper coleslaw together. In my haste, I cut my hand while chopping. The cicadas grew louder outside, making sleep impossible. I gave up and headed to the bathroom. As soon as I stepped out of the bedroom, I heard loud moaning from Mrs. Bennett’s room—intense, unmistakable sounds of pleasure. Startled, I froze. Then I saw it—a pair of old men’s shoes in the hallway, mud still clinging to the soles. Mr. Bennett must have returned. Mr. Bennett was usually away for work, leaving Mrs. Bennett home alone. She never let herself go though; in fact, she had a better collection of makeup than I did. Given the situation, it made sense that Mr. Bennett might struggle to stay faithful. Not wanting to intrude, I quickly ducked into the bathroom. Even when I came out, the sounds from Mrs. Bennett’s room had only intensified. Feeling awkward, I hurried back to my room without even grabbing a glass of water. Lying in my darkened room, I couldn’t shake the empty feeling inside me. My mind raced with questions I couldn’t answer. Mr. Bennett and Eric both worked at the same research institute. They usually returned from work together. Why had only Mr. Bennett come home this time? With just my own warmth filling our queen-sized bed, I eventually drifted back to sleep, the cicadas fading into the background. The next morning, I woke up early. Mr. Bennett sometimes left in a hurry, so I wanted to make sure I could make breakfast for him. Despite my difficult relationship with Mrs. Bennett, Mr. Bennett was always kind to me. I was grateful to him—he was the only reason I could manage my strained relationship with his wife. I set the breakfast biscuits and oatmeal on the table, then turned to grab Mrs. Bennett’s oat milk, only to hear her voice from the other room. “Other women are out here being thrifty, but not you! A whole breakfast spread for just one meal? What are you trying to do, show off? You must be one of those country bumpkins who’s never seen luxury before, and now you’re here to feast at our expense!” Her words ignited an instant flame in my chest. I had been abandoned at birth and raised in an orphanage until I was adopted at age ten by the Richardsons, a kind couple from Rural Kentucky. After graduating from college, I moved to Chicago for work and eventually married Eric. After we got married, Eric and Mr. Bennett were frequently away on business. Mrs. Bennett used her “poor health” as an excuse to force me to quit my job and stay home as a full-time housewife. I did as she asked, but her torment never stopped. Whenever Eric was home, things were bearable. But the moment he left for work, Mrs. Bennett would criticize everything I did, accusing me of taking advantage of the family’s wealth. I walked out of the kitchen, slamming the oat milk down on the table. I was about to speak up, but the sight of my wedding ring caught my eye. The anger simmered down. Even if Mrs. Bennett didn’t like me, Eric had always shown me love and care. And just before he left this time, he promised me that in a month, once his current project was over, we would move out and finally have our own place. I took a deep breath and calmly explained, “I didn’t mean to make so much food. I just heard Mr. Bennett come home last night, so I made an extra plate—” I didn’t even finish before Mrs. Bennett shot up from her seat, grabbed the oat milk, and threw it in my face. “You little tramp! Trying to take over this house, aren’t you? You haven’t even given us a grandchild, and you’re already trying to get rid of me! Let me tell you something—if you don’t behave, I’ll make sure Eric kicks you out of this house!” Over the years, Mrs. Bennett’s outbursts had come out of nowhere, but she rarely got physical. For a moment, I stood there, stunned. She sat back down, smugly picking at her breakfast. I gritted my teeth and held back. Just one more month, and Eric and I would be out of here. Getting into a fight with her now wouldn’t help anything. I retreated to the bedroom to change clothes. From behind, I heard her sneer, clearly convinced I wouldn’t dare stand up to her.
By the time I finished changing, Mrs. Bennett had already left. The breakfast table looked like a battlefield. I told myself again and again—just one more month. I cleaned up the mess and went to prepare Eric’s clothes. The weather had been getting colder, and Eric had only taken his seasonal clothes on his last trip. I didn’t want him to catch a cold. After spending all morning busying myself, I had just sat down to lunch when the phone rang. “Did you make lunch yet? Bring it to the Bingo Hall.” Mrs. Bennett didn’t even wait for me to respond before hanging up. She had been treating me like a servant for years, but for Eric’s sake, I still packed up her lunch. I barely ate a bite before rushing over. “You’re so slow! What good are you for, anyway?” Mrs. Bennett grabbed the lunch box and shot me a glare. Mrs. Stewart, sitting nearby, couldn’t help but speak up for me. “Gloria, your daughter-in-law is pretty good! She brings you lunch every day. My daughter-in-law? I’m lucky if I even see her on holidays!” Mrs. Bennett snorted as she stuffed her face. “Please, she’s just some hillbilly from the country, spending my son’s money. And she probably ate her lunch before even bringing mine. What kind of ‘respect’ is that?” I wasn’t even listening to her at that point. My eyes were fixed on the familiar old men’s shoes—the same ones I saw at our house the night before. They were on Mr. George Franklin’s feet, the man sitting beside Mrs. Bennett at the Bingo table. The man Mrs. Bennett had been with last night wasn’t Mr. Bennett at all—it was Mr. Franklin! Mrs. Bennett had been having an affair right in our home! “What are you staring at? Didn’t you hear me talking to you?” Mrs. Bennett threw the lunch box at me, but I could see the guilt in her eyes. She shoved the box into my hands. “Get out of my sight! I can’t stand looking at you!” Stunned, I left in a daze. I couldn’t believe it. Mrs. Bennett, of all people, so strict and old-fashioned, was having an affair! This wasn’t my problem to solve—it was Eric’s mother, after all. And Eric valued family harmony above everything else. If I told him about this, there’s no telling what kind of trouble it would cause. I spent hours lost in thought until the sun had set and my phone rang. It was a video call from Eric. I answered, seeing his handsome but tired face on the screen. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. “Hey, honey. I got the clothes you sent me this morning. I didn’t even notice the weather changing, but you did. You’re always so thoughtful.” I forced a smile, but Eric noticed something was off right away. “Is something wrong? Did Mom say something to you again? You look upset.” His concern made me feel even guiltier. But I lied. “No, everything’s fine. Just focus on your work.” I hadn’t figured out what to do yet, and at that moment, the front door opened. Mrs. Bennett was back. Afraid she might say something that would make Eric suspicious, I quickly ended the call. She seemed to be in a good mood, even humming a tune as she came in. After thinking about it for a while, I decided to speak up. “Mrs. Bennett, Mr. Bennett will be retiring in a few months, and Eric will be back home too. Let’s try to get along and live peacefully as a family.” I meant it as a subtle warning, hoping she’d stop her affair. But her reaction was explosive. She glared at me, hands on her hips. “Live peacefully? Who are you to tell me how to live? You can’t even give us a child, and you’re talking about peace? What a joke!” “And what about you? You’ve been sneaking around, haven’t you? Chatting up men behind my son’s back?” Her words hit me like a slap. How dare she accuse me of being unfaithful when she was the one having an affair? “If I did get pregnant, it wouldn’t be Eric’s! He’s been away for months!” Her face turned white at my words. She shot me a furious look and stormed into her room, slamming the door behind her.
Whether it was my words or the guilt of her affair, Mrs. Bennett stayed quiet for the next month. She left every morning after breakfast and didn’t ask me to bring her lunch anymore. She would return home, lock herself in her room, and we barely saw each other. On my birthday, Eric called to apologize for not being able to make it back. But later that afternoon, a bouquet of flowers arrived from him. The card had a quote from our favorite college poem. It brought a warm feeling to my heart, reminding me of the love we shared. “You little vixen! Eric’s not home, so this must be from one of your lovers!” Mrs. Bennett started in again, but this time I wasn’t fazed. “Mom, these flowers are from Eric. He sent them to me.” She sneered, “Of course, wasting my son’s money on flowers for you!” I didn’t bother to argue. I picked up the flowers, ready to head back to my room when she called out again. “You ungrateful thing! I’m sick, and you don’t even notice! Take me to the hospital!” My heart raced. She had seemed fine just moments ago. “What’s wrong, Mom? Are you okay? I’ll get the car keys!” “No! Gas is too expensive. Just push me in the wheelchair.” She insisted, so I had no choice but to wheel her to the hospital. On the way, she complained of diarrhea and a fever. It sounded like the flu, but I didn’t want to take any chances. Eric would be worried if it turned into something more serious. At the hospital, the doctor listened to her symptoms with a strange expression and ordered a blood test. Hours later, when I saw the results, I was shocked. It was HIV. I froze in place, staring in disbelief while Mrs. Gloria Bennett’s face was etched with panic. “It was you! It had to be you! You hate me, so you must have done something to my food, didn’t you?!” Her face twisted with anger, while onlookers started gathering, whispering to each other. I didn’t want this whole situation to explode in public, especially not her HIV diagnosis. I tried to push her out of the hospital, but she grabbed my arm. “If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me! Now that I’ve got HIV, you’re not getting off easy!” she screamed, trying to bite me. I instinctively yanked my arm away, causing her to stumble and fall to the ground. She glared at me with pure hatred. I had tried to be patient with her all these years, but now she was accusing me of poisoning her? I couldn’t take it anymore. “I swear I’ve never been unfaithful to Eric! Can you say the same for yourself, Mrs. Bennett?” Her face turned ghostly pale, and the murmurs from the crowd grew louder, like daggers piercing through her. “You… you! Everyone, come look! She’s abusing an old woman!” Mrs. Bennett cried, pulling at my arm again. In the struggle, the test results slipped from my hand, caught by the wind, and flew toward the courtyard. A neighbor picked up the paper and glanced at it, her eyes widening. “There’s HIV in our neighborhood!” The entire crowd changed. Faces of disgust and judgment surrounded us. “I knew it! With her husband gone all the time, it’s no wonder something like this happened!” “They’re supposed to be from a respectable family, but look at them now!” “Mrs. Bennett was always talking about how terrible her daughter-in-law was. Could it be the daughter-in-law gave it to her?” I looked at Mrs. Bennett, who was now shrinking under the weight of the gossip. She didn’t say a word, just trembling under the accusing eyes of the neighbors. I let out a cold laugh and walked back to the house. If Mrs. Bennett wanted to claim I mistreated her, I might as well show her how “bad” I could really be. She could clean up her own mess this time. Mrs. Bennett gathered the test results from the ground and followed me home, looking defeated. This was too big to hide from Eric and Mr. Bennett. After all, they were both in the medical field—they’d know what to do better than I ever could. I picked up my phone to call Eric, but before I could dial, Mrs. Bennett collapsed to her knees in front of me.
“Lauren, please, please don’t tell Eric or Mr. Bennett. I don’t want to distract them from their work!” I looked at her coldly. Even now, she was worried about keeping up appearances. Mrs. Bennett was desperate now, slumped on the floor, crying uncontrollably. “If they find out, I’ll have no reason to live! I’m begging you, Lauren, if you make that call, I’ll end it right here!” Before I could respond, she rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a knife, pressing it to her throat. “Fine, fine, I won’t tell them. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the hospital and get the medicine. Just take the meds, okay?” Afraid she might hurt herself, I gave in for now. Mrs. Bennett lowered the knife, tears streaming down her face as she stood, shoulders hunched. The once proud and domineering woman now looked completely defeated. A part of me almost pitied her. The next morning, I woke up early to head to the hospital, but when I opened the door, I was greeted with a nasty surprise—someone had spray-painted bright red words on our front door and wall. “HIV-Infected Scum, Get Out!” Anger surged through me, but what could I do? If I had neighbors like this, even if I wasn’t the target, I’d feel uncomfortable too. I closed the door and hurried to the hospital to pick up Mrs. Bennett’s medication. When I returned, I found Mr. George Franklin, looking frail and miserable, standing at the door with his two children. They were banging on the door, demanding to be let in. Both of Mr. Franklin’s kids were wearing full protective suits, making him look even smaller and more fragile. “Gloria Bennett! If you don’t open this door right now, we’ll break it down!” “Disgusting! Acting like a tramp at your age, not only ruining yourself but dragging our family down too!” “Let me tell you something! If my dad’s sick, it’s because of you! Your family has to take responsibility for him now. We’ll move him in, and you’ll take care of him!” I rushed forward just in time. Mr. Franklin’s daughter turned toward me, glaring. “You must be Gloria Bennett’s daughter-in-law. Open the door, or I’ll make sure the entire neighborhood knows exactly what kind of filthy woman your mother-in-law is!” Despite my own anger, I knew it was Mrs. Bennett’s fault. With a forced apology, I let them into the house. “You had the nerve to seduce my dad, but now you’re hiding like a coward? Gloria Bennett, it’s too late to save face!” “I’m really sorry for everything. If Mr. Franklin is worried about his health, I’ll take him to the hospital to get tested. If anything’s wrong, we’ll take full responsibility.” Just as I was trying to calm things down, Mrs. Bennett stormed out of her room, holding a pair of scissors to her throat. “George Franklin, you better tell the truth! I’ve only ever been with you! If I’m sick, it’s because you gave it to me!” Mr. Franklin’s eyes widened in shock, his frail hand pointing toward Mrs. Bennett, trembling. “You… you…” Before he could finish, Mr. Franklin clutched his chest and collapsed.
I gasped, rushing to call an ambulance. After making sure Mrs. Bennett was safe, I followed the ambulance to the hospital, where Mr. Franklin was rushed into surgery. I spent the entire day without food or water, too exhausted and dizzy to think straight. After hours of waiting, I grabbed a couple of sandwiches to eat. But before I could even take a bite, Mr. Franklin’s daughter showed up at my door again. “Gloria Bennett! You heartless witch! My dad just passed away in the hospital, and you’re going to pay for it!” Mrs. Bennett’s eyes filled with rage as she shouted back, “I got sick because of him! If anything, he should have been paying me! You’re not getting a dime from me!” Fearing the situation would escalate, I opened the door. Mr. Franklin’s daughter stormed in, shouting at me. “Lauren Mitchell! Forget the HIV for now—your mother-in-law killed my father! If you don’t give me fifty thousand dollars by tomorrow, I’ll camp outside your house and shame you all!” I had barely eaten a thing, and now, on top of being screamed at, she pushed me hard enough that nausea overwhelmed me. I collapsed, throwing up on the floor. Her anger faltered for a moment, but she kept sneering, “Oh, are you pretending to be sick? I wouldn’t be surprised if your whole family is infected with HIV! If I don’t have that money by tomorrow morning, I’m showing up at your husband’s workplace!” After finally managing to get her out of the house, I was left feeling both panicked and exhausted. The nausea wouldn’t stop, and Mrs. Bennett, who had been watching, suddenly looked concerned. “You’re not… pregnant, are you?” I froze, then dashed to the bathroom to grab a pregnancy test. Two lines appeared immediately. Eric had been home three months ago, so that meant the baby was three months along. Instead of joy, Mr. Franklin’s daughter’s cruel words rang in my head. What if my whole family had HIV… I couldn’t hold back anymore. I went to my room, locked the door, and sobbed until there were no tears left. The next morning, before dawn, Eric and Mr. Bennett returned home. I had been waiting for this moment, but now, instead of joy, I felt nothing but fear as I broke into tears in Eric’s arms. Eric held me close, stroking my hair. “It’s okay. HIV isn’t as easily transmitted as people think. Even if we do test positive, there are treatments now. We’ll get through this together. As soon as it’s light, I’ll take you to the hospital for tests.” His words gave me a small spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, after all this time living with Mrs. Bennett, I hadn’t caught anything. We didn’t have any direct contact—there was a chance I was still safe. At the hospital, Eric and I went in for testing. While waiting for the results, Mr. Franklin’s daughter called again. “Lauren Mitchell! We had my dad’s body tested—he didn’t have HIV! Your mother-in-law killed him by sheer stress!” I felt the world go black around me, but just then, the nurse called us to collect our results. Eric picked up the report, glanced at it, and then quickly tucked it into his bag. But I didn’t need to look. I already knew. I had HIV.
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