At Mr. Green’s 60th birthday party, my husband’s younger sister, who is well over 25, pressed her chest against him. What’s even stranger is that his family acted like it was perfectly normal. I thought I was overreacting… Until my father-in-law got drunk and let a secret slip. My husband, Michael, is what you’d call a “sister’s boy.” I realized this when we were still dating. At the time, Emily had just started her junior year in college and was coming home for summer break. Michael and I drove to the Bus Depot to pick her up. I wore a pair of high heels that were too tight, and halfway there, they rubbed the skin on my heels raw. Every step was agony. Michael held a bouquet of flowers meant for his sister, Emily. I didn’t have the heart to ask him to help me, so I just quietly complained, “Can we slow down? My feet hurt.” Michael patted my head but didn’t slow down. Finally, we saw Emily. She was wheeling a pink suitcase and wearing a short skirt. The second she spotted Michael, she squealed like a happy little bird and ran straight into his arms. Michael didn’t hesitate either—he grabbed her thighs and spun her around a few times, right there in public. My face turned dark immediately. Noticing my reaction, Michael gently put Emily down and reached out to hold my hand. “Emily, this is your sister-in-law. Say hi!” “Hi, sis!” Emily chirped sweetly. A few steps later, Emily started whining that her feet hurt. Michael glanced at me cautiously, while Emily gave me a pitiful look. What could I say in that situation? Michael handed me the flowers, whispered, “You’re amazing, babe,” and then picked Emily up on his back. They walked ahead of me while I limped behind, trying to ignore the pain. That day, the thought of breaking up with him crossed my mind more times than I could count. But in the end, I couldn’t let go of five years of love. Besides, Michael came from a good family, was handsome, and had a stable job. If it weren’t for his obsession with his sister, he was practically perfect. A little later, I agreed to marry him. In our second year of marriage, we had a beautiful son, Andy. After giving birth, my body wasn’t the same, but Michael still loved me like before. Just when I thought life would continue peacefully, everything changed at Mr. Green’s 60th birthday party. The revelation hit me like a bolt of lightning. Before that, Emily had gotten drunk and passed out in Michael’s arms. Her chest was pressed right against his thigh. I shot Michael a look, but he ignored me. Instead, he called a server over for a damp towel and carefully wiped Emily’s face and neck. Emily let out a soft moan and wrapped her arms around Michael’s, clinging to him in the most intimate way. Sensing my discomfort, my mother-in-law, Mrs. Green, casually placed a shrimp in my bowl and said, “They’ve been close like this since they were kids. Don’t let it bother you. Come on, eat up!” I forced a nod, chewing on the shrimp that tasted like nothing. As the drinks flowed, Mr. Green stood up with his glass and announced, “Today isn’t just my birthday. I also have some great news! My daughter, Emily, has been hired by the local TV station! We all know how hard it is to get into the TV station—they only pick the very best!” Everyone clapped and congratulated her. Mr. Green, a bit unsteady, swayed slightly and had to be supported by someone next to him. “Emily may not be our biological child,” he continued, “but in terms of smarts and determination, she’s just like a true Green!” Mrs. Green gave me a strange look and quickly stood up to cut him off. Michael gently pushed Emily off his lap and glanced at me, finally realizing what was happening. Around us, the chatter was a blur. My head was buzzing like a swarm of flies. Before, I could convince myself that their closeness was just due to blood ties. But now? There was no way I could believe that the relationship between Michael and Emily was purely that of a brother and sister. Especially since just the night before, when our son had a 104°F fever from tonsillitis, Michael left him to take Emily home after she got drunk. He didn’t come back all night.
That night, when I heard Andy crying, I rushed barefoot into his room and saw his flushed little face, his voice hoarse. The thermometer read 104°F. I ran back to our room to wake up Michael, but he was sitting on the bed, on the phone. “Alright, stay where you are. I’m on my way,” he said. “Michael, Andy’s got a fever!” I told him. He hesitated. “Julia, could you take him to the hospital first? Emily got drunk, and she needs me to pick her up.” “She has plenty of friends. If worse comes to worst, call your parents.” Michael frowned, “They’re asleep, and she’s a girl, Julia. I don’t want anything bad to happen to her. You go first, I’ll meet you there.” My temples throbbed with frustration, but I bit my tongue. I rushed Andy to the emergency room, where the doctor diagnosed tonsillitis. A single shot and the fever would subside. I finally breathed a sigh of relief. But Andy hadn’t eaten much dinner, and the medication upset his stomach. He vomited suddenly, and I didn’t have anything on hand to catch it, so I used my bare hands to avoid messing up the hospital floor. The pungent smell was overwhelming, and I felt tears well up. Thankfully, a woman nearby handed me a plastic bag. Andy’s little face was red with discomfort, and he held my hand, whispering, “Mommy, I’m sorry.” My heart ached as I replied, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Andy. You were so brave.” I put on a strong face for Andy, but one question from that woman broke me down inside: “Where’s your husband? Why are you here alone?” That night, I sat by Andy’s bedside and didn’t close my eyes for a second. Michael came home at five in the morning, holding my favorite crab-stuffed pastries. He apologized, massaged my feet, brought me water, and begged me to rest. I was exhausted, and seeing how sincere he seemed, I let it go. But that incident left a knot in my heart that never truly untied. It eventually became the spark that led to our divorce. After leaving Mr. Green’s birthday party, I walked straight to the parking lot, with Michael chasing after me, blocking the car door. “Are you seriously leaving during such an important event?” he asked. “Come on, stop being dramatic. Let’s go back.” I jerked my hand away. “Aren’t you going to explain what’s going on with you and Emily?” Michael sighed. “I didn’t mean to hide it from you. I just didn’t want anyone to misunderstand and have it affect Emily.” I laughed bitterly, “And that’s it? Michael, do you really think I’m that stupid? Do you expect me to believe that what you two have is just sibling love?” His face twisted in disbelief. “Julia, your mind is in the gutter!” Before I could respond, Mrs. Green appeared, hearing our argument, and immediately pointed at me. “You, of all people, should know better. How could you say something like that?” I watched them stand united against me, feeling a coldness settle in my chest. Without another word, I opened the car door. As I got in, I heard Mrs. Green muttering, “What kind of person did you marry? So disrespectful!” I held back the burning anger and drove away. The next day, I packed up my things, took Andy, and went back to my parents’ house. My mom tried to talk me down. “So what if they aren’t blood-related? They didn’t do anything inappropriate. Marriage means you have to turn a blind eye to some things.” “Mom, you know me. I can’t ignore something like this.” My dad slammed down his cup. “There’s never been a divorce in the Davis family. If you go through with this, don’t come back!” I slammed the door, sinking to the floor as the weight of everything hit me. I thought my parents’ home would be my safe haven. Instead, they were on Michael’s side.
During this time, Michael kept calling, but I ignored him. I blocked him on Instagram and every other social platform he might reach me on. Andy would occasionally ask, “Why isn’t Dad with us?” I would swallow my sadness and reply, “Daddy’s working hard. He’ll come see you soon.” Andy would nod, gripping my hand, “Mom, don’t be mad at Dad. I want us all to be happy together.” Tears filled my eyes. Staring at Andy’s innocent face, my resolve to divorce began to waver. That night, I tried to convince myself to move on, but every time I closed my eyes, the memories I couldn’t let go of flooded back— Emily sitting on Michael’s lap, playing video games. Michael using his chopsticks to hand-feed Emily pieces of fish. Emily throwing herself into his arms every time she won a game. And every time they were in the same room, they sat together, laughing and chatting, completely ignoring me. If they could behave like that in front of me, I couldn’t imagine what went on behind closed doors. It wasn’t stubbornness on my part—it was impossible to ignore. A few days later, I was surprised when Michael showed up at my door with Emily to apologize. That morning, I had dropped Andy off at Maple Grove Daycare and swung by Fisherman’s Wharf to pick up a few pounds of clams—my dad’s favorite. He’d been ignoring me for days, and as his daughter, I knew I had to make things right. My dad was a traditional man, strict but with a good heart. He had never once mistreated my mom in all their years of marriage. Even though he said some hurtful things, Mom told me he had privately called Michael and given him a good scolding. When I got home, the house was empty. I had just started soaking the clams when there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see Michael, unshaven and haggard, with a sulky Emily standing behind him. “Julia, I brought Emily to apologize.” “I overreacted that day.” “I didn’t realize how uncomfortable our behavior made you. I promise, there’s nothing between us other than sibling love.” Then he pulled Emily forward. She didn’t look happy, but eventually muttered, “I’m sorry, sis. My brother and I have always been close like this. If anything was off, he wouldn’t have married you, right?” She shot Michael a knowing glance as she spoke. This wasn’t an apology—it was a taunt. I smirked, ready to fire back, but Michael’s face darkened. “Emily, if you can’t apologize properly, keep quiet!” “Fine!” Emily’s eyes reddened as she glared at both of us. “I hope you two live happily ever after!” Then she stomped away in her heels. “Aren’t you going to chase after her?” I sneered. Michael shook his head. “She’s spoiled from how we raised her, like a little princess. Don’t let it bother you. I swear, I’ll never do anything to hurt you again.” I softened and packed up my things to return home with Michael. A week later, Andy was overjoyed to see his dad again, clinging to Michael like he would never let go. Watching them together, my heart felt heavy. I had never asked Andy to choose between us, but at that moment, I really wanted to know—if Michael and I divorced, who would he pick? For a long time after that, Michael was more attentive than ever before. He woke up early to buy groceries, canceled every social event, and spent all his time at home with Andy and me. There were even little surprises—flowers, cakes, jewelry. He even remembered my period and had warm tea ready in advance. It felt like we had gone back to our early dating days. I could tell he was trying to make up for his mistakes. Even though the hurt lingered, I decided to bury it for now and give our marriage another try. But everything changed the week my grandmother passed away. I went back to my hometown with my mom for the funeral. There was a virus outbreak in my hometown, and since Andy was still so young, I couldn’t bring him along.
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