Over the years, he constantly belittled and mocked her for not having children.
Meanwhile, his career flourished. He led thousands of employees, drove one luxury car after another, and recently even got himself a chauffeur...
But he never moved houses.
This house was a wedding gift from our parents to Janet, as York had married into our family...
That was right. York had married into our family.
But since our parents passed away, no one ever brought it up again.
In recent years, York's parents had even taken to openly and secretly blaming Janet for not having children, calling her a curse that would end their family line...
My thoughts were interrupted by a loud shout from the other room.
"You eat my food, use my money, and I even support your sister. What right do you have to argue with me?"
Then came the sound of a door slamming heavily.
3
York had left.
I breathed a sigh of relief, went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water, and pushed open the door to Janet's room.
She sat alone on the floor, her head buried in her knees, her frail shoulders shaking slightly.
The room was a mess, with wet clothes, broken glass, and some white pills scattered around...
"Janet, are you okay?" I handed her the glass of water.
Janet looked up, her eyes red.
When she saw me, she quickly turned away, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes.
"Yvonne, I'm sorry we disturbed you."
I had suggested divorce to her before. Over the years, Janet had endured so much pain and humiliation because of the issue of having children. I saw it all.
But every time I mentioned divorce, tears welled up in her eyes.
After all, it had been almost ten years. During their toughest times, York had once held her and cried, promising that he would make her life better someday.
Life had gotten better, but York had completely changed.
Still, Janet persisted, always believing that if she just tried a little harder, things would get better, especially if they had a child.
I didn't say anything. I just bent down to pick up the clothes and the pills from the floor. The white pills had gray letters on them, the same ones I had seen at my friend's house that morning.
"Yvonne, you should get some rest. You have that business trip tomorrow, right? Go to bed early; I'll handle this myself," Janet said, nudging me.
"What's this medicine?" I stared at the pills for a while before finally asking.