She Chose Her Nephew Over Her Own Daughter ,Now She's Begging Me to Stay

Patty Wallace chimed in too. "You came back for your mother, didn't you? And now you're making a scene before you've even seen her? You're lucky she's bedridden—if she knew you were acting like this, imagine how heartbroken she'd be." My voice was flat. "You've got it wrong. I didn't come back to take care of her. I just wanted to see how much time she has left. She gave birth to me and raised me—that counts for something. No matter what happened between us, when she dies, I'll at least see her off." "You—you—" Howard's finger shook as he pointed at me. "Is that even something a human being says? I'll—I'll beat some sense into you!" He swung his palm toward my face. Smack! My husband caught Howard's wrist, his brow furrowed. "You're all elders here. If you have something to say, say it. Don't raise your hand." Howard glared at him. "Does she even see me as an elder? Let go of me—I'm going to teach her a lesson today if it's the last thing I do." My husband said nothing. He just kept his grip locked around Howard's wrist. Howard's face turned beet red from the effort, chest heaving, but he couldn't break free. "Oh my, what's all this? We're family—why does it have to be like this?" Brenda stepped in, turning a smile toward my husband. "You must be Judy's partner. So handsome! Judy hasn't come home once in five years. We've all been worried sick. But seeing how protective you are of her, well, that puts our minds at ease." She tilted her head. "Still, you should talk some sense into her. What grudge between a mother and daughter can't be resolved? Her mother is lying in bed right now. How can a daughter say she won't take care of her own mother? Don't you think?" My husband looked at Brenda, his tone indifferent. "I follow Judy's lead. She makes the decisions in our house." Brenda's smile vanished, her face hardening. "Now I have to say something about that. You're the man—the head of the household. You should have your own opinions. You can't just let a woman call all the shots." I let out a dry laugh. "Auntie, you really take your role as an elder seriously, don't you? Even my marriage is your business now. Don't you think you're overstepping?" Brenda's expression turned cold. Suddenly, a noise came from inside the room. Howard, Brenda, Gloria, and Patty acted as though they hadn't heard a thing. Not a flicker of reaction. I looked at them with a bitter smirk. Five years ago, when Dad's compensation money came through, they couldn't have been warmer to Mom. Now they'd all gone deaf. My husband gave my hand a gentle tug. "Let's go in and check on her." "Okay." I stepped inside and saw Mom lying on the bed, her right hand extended, trembling without stop. When she saw me, her mouth opened. "Ah—ah—" Two guttural sounds escaped her throat. I stood where I was. Didn't move. She reached toward me with a quivering hand, trying to grab hold of me. I still didn't move. "Hh—hh—" Her breathing turned ragged. Both eyes locked onto me, burning with fury. Not a trace of remorse. Bang! The door flew open. Howard, Brenda, Gloria, and Patty came rushing in, panicked and frantic. "Lillian! Lillian, what's wrong?" "Sis—sis, don't scare me!" "Call an ambulance—now!" "Look what you've done! She's your mother! Do you want to drive her to death? Would that make you happy?" I watched them—some wailing, some scrambling for their phones, some jabbing their fingers at me—and a low laugh slipped out of me. It was absurd. Like watching a loud, overwrought play. What was even more absurd was that I'd once been part of the cast. My husband patted my shoulder and pulled me into his arms. I tilted my head up to look at him. Only in moments like this did I feel safe. Warm. "Who's going to sign and pay?" Outside the operating room, a doctor held out the consent form, looking at us. Howard. Brenda. Gloria. Patty. Every single pair of eyes swiveled toward me.

My expression didn't waver. "Where's Dudley?" Howard's face darkened. "Judith, that's your mother lying in there! You can't find Dudley, so you're just going to stand here and watch her die?" I repeated myself. "Call Dudley. Have him come sign the papers and pay." "You—!" Brenda stepped in front of Howard before he could explode, her face tight with barely concealed fury. "Dudley's out of town on business. He can't make it back right now. Just sign the papers and cover the bill first—I'll have him transfer the money to you later." I shook my head. "Have him transfer the money first. Then I'll sign." "Judy!" Gloria grabbed my hand, her voice cracking. "I know you've been wronged, but that's your mother in there. You can't just abandon her." I shrugged. "What exactly am I supposed to do, Aunt Gloria? Mom gave all the money to Dudley. Even if I wanted to help, I'm broke." The color drained from Gloria's face. Patty turned her sights on my husband. "That's your mother-in-law in there. This is life and death—you can't just let Judy do whatever she wants." Terry smiled mildly. "Judy handles all our finances. My salary card is in her hands. Besides, we haven't been married long—big expenses, not much left over. We really don't have the spare cash." When it became clear that neither of us was budging, Gloria and Patty fell silent. I spoke one last time. "Call Dudley. Tell him to come sign the papers and pay the bill. He took the money—he bears the responsibility. There's no such thing as pocketing two million dollars and walking away scot-free." With that, I took Terry's hand and walked away. Howard's voice thundered behind me. "Judith! What the hell do you want?!" I didn't look back. "I already told you. Get Dudley. Make him handle it." The moment I stepped through the hospital doors, the tears came. Two million dollars. She hadn't given me a single cent. Five years I'd been gone. She never called. Not once. Never asked how I was, never cared whether I was alive or dead. Now she was paralyzed. Now she needed surgery. And suddenly she remembered she had a daughter. Why? Why should I be the one footing this bill? Because I was her daughter? Because filial duty demanded it? But filial piety was never meant to be a one-way street. I'd been a dutiful daughter for over twenty years, and what did I get? Love that didn't come with a single dollar attached. She was the one who said it five years ago—"A married daughter is like spilled water. You're an outsider now." Fine. Then I'd be an outsider. "Terry... do you think I'm heartless?" He shook his head. "No. Whatever you decide, I'm behind you. All the way." "Terry—" My voice broke, and the tears spilled over. "I'm not heartless. She's still my mom. She'll be my children's grandmother someday. Of course I want her to be okay." "But I can't do it. I can't accept that the person who took over two million dollars is off living his best life while I—who got nothing—am expected to shoulder everything." "And I can't pretend to be the devoted daughter when she didn't spare me a single thought for five years." "I don't know if I'm right or wrong. Terry, can you tell me?" He was quiet for a long time. Then he nodded. "You're right." I lifted my head. He reached out and gently wiped the tears from my cheeks, his voice soft. "This is Dudley's responsibility. She's your mother, yes—but she played favorites her entire life. Now that something's happened, it shouldn't fall on you." He paused, his gaze steady on mine. "But I need you to think this through carefully. She is your mother. She gave birth to you. She raised you. I don't want you to do something in anger that you'll regret for the rest of your life." His eyes held mine, unwavering. "If you change your mind, we go back right now. We empty our savings—every last penny—and we make sure she gets better. Because she's your mom, and I never want you to carry that kind of grief." "Terry!" The tears came again, but this time they were warm. I threw myself into his arms and held on tight. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me." My husband gently rubbed my back until I calmed down. Only then did he speak. "Have you decided?" "Yeah." I nodded firmly and looked up at him. "I'm her daughter, but she never treated me like one. Over two million dollars—she gave it all to Dudley. Now she's paralyzed, and they want me to sign forms, pay the bills, even take care of her for the rest of her life. I can't do it." "That's Dudley's responsibility. If she'd ever given me even a fraction of that—even ten thousand dollars—I wouldn't be the ungrateful daughter they're making me out to be." In that moment, everything finally clicked into place. I'd always swallowed it. I'd always known Mom favored Dudley, and I'd never pushed back. Not until five years ago, when what happened shattered me completely. I left and stayed gone for five years. Mom never called. Not once. And now they wanted my money and my labor. That crossed a line. When there was money to hand out, I didn't exist. When disaster struck, suddenly I was front and center. If I gave in now, it would happen again and again. My heart couldn't take it. My body couldn't take it either. I let out a long breath. The weight lifted from my shoulders. I turned to my husband. "Let's stay a few extra days. If..." I paused, my voice dropping low. "If she passes, I'll see her off. That's the least I can do as her daughter." He nodded. "Okay." Then my phone rang. It was Howard. "Your mother's awake. She wants to see you. Get to the hospital." I froze, turning to meet my husband's eyes. My fingers tightened around the phone without me realizing it.