“Exactly. If you were really a key employee, would the company fire you so easily?”
Even my ten-year-old son hated me. He pushed me off the balcony.
“If you had returned to the family earlier, my illness would’ve been discovered sooner.”
“You slaved away for others for years, yet couldn’t even pay for my treatment.”
I died in pain. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day when my in-laws once more urged me to quit my job and become a full-time housewife.
I smiled and agreed.
I wanted to see how their son alone could possibly support this family.
At the dinner table, my in-laws echoed each other, spittle flying.
“Emily, we’re only saying this for your good. What’s the point of career success? In the end, a woman must return to family.”
“That’s right. Look at our Daniel—he makes over sixty thousand a month. More than enough to support you!”
Daniel sat beside me with the posture of a victor.
“Emily, listen to Mom and Dad. Quit your job. I’ll take care of you.”
That line again.
As if he really were the one earning sixty thousand a month.
In my last life, to preserve his pride, I never revealed that I earned far more than he did.