"But this is also a good thing. The more the Nelson family values her, the more resources we can get from them in the future," he said.
Margaret was deeply moved and hugged her son. "Good boy. You have sacrificed too much to our family."
He clenched his fist and said, "Mom, when I am powerful enough in the company and her home, I promise to let her kneel in front of you and wash your feet."
Margaret looked delighted at once. "That's great. A spoiled young lady like her needs to suffer before she knows how to respect her husband's mother."
Not long after I got married, Margaret indeed asked me to wash her feet.
I thought she asked me to bring some water for her to wash her feet on her own and also got me some water to wash mine.
However, Margaret splashed the water and started to blame me, "I said I wanted to wash my feet! You should wash them for me."
After realizing what she meant, I immediately refused. "No way, I haven't even washed my parents' feet. If you really want that, you can go to a foot massage place. It's not expensive, after all."
Margaret asked for Matthew's help with her eyes.
But at that time, he was reporting something about work to my father on the phone and dared not back his mother.
The trivial matter in my heart later became an enormous humiliation to Matthew and Margaret, and they stuck to the idea of revenging on me as soon as possible.
I heard the fingerprint recording buzz on the lock; Matthew was recording his mother's fingerprints again.
And he thought I couldn't hear that!
Lying on the bed, I opened my eyes wide and looked at the ceiling, letting the tears flow down my cheeks, wetting my collar and pillow.
The tears I shed now were all the water that entered my brain before marriage.
My family bought me a house early on because they hoped that no matter what happened in my marriage, I would have a way out and not be coerced.
Never had I expected that I would end up living like a rat in my own house.
Now, I had to wear underwear at home, close the door when going to the toilet, and wash my underwear by hand. I was always on my toes, afraid that if I relaxed for a second, Margaret would curse me for not being a good girl.
It was really hard for them as they had to face a "bad girl" like me all the time.
Now that my tears had dried, I would let them taste the feeling of living in fear at home!