When my husband finally returned after four years, the whole neighborhood celebrated. My mother-in-law threw a feast — roasted pig, music, laughter, everything.
But after the guests left, my husband sat down beside his mother. His voice was calm, filled with quiet hope.
“Mom,” he said, “I’ve sent almost nine hundred thousand pesos over the years. Can we use some of it now to buy land?”
His mother sipped her tea before answering. “What nine hundred thousand? It’s gone.”
My husband blinked. “Gone? What do you mean gone?”
“I used it,” she said. “On food, on bills, on this house. You think we don’t live here too?”
The words hung in the air. My husband’s face went pale. I felt my knees weaken.
“Mom,” he said softly, “I trusted you. You told me you were saving it.”
“I did save,” she snapped. “I saved this home! You should be grateful.”
