Chapter 4
Sonny lay there with an IV drip attached, his face pale and his expression pitiful.
"Camela," he said, his voice hoarse. "I know you're mad, but Mom really didn't mean it. She's getting old, her memory's not what it used to be"
I listened in silence.
Sonny had nearly been killed by his own mother, and yet he was still defending her.
I suddenly thought the whole thing was ridiculous.
"Sonny," I said, interrupting him mid-sentence. "Let's talk."
"About what?" he asked.
"About Austin's custody, and how we're going to handle our assets," I replied.
Sonny's face went even paler than when he was having that allergic reaction.
He shot up in bed, staring at me like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"What did you just say? You want a divorce?" he stammered.
Sonny braced himself against the bed, trying to sit up straighter, but the movement tugged at the IV line in his arm, making the needle sting.
"Divorce? Camela, are you crazy?" he blurted out.
His voice was full of disbelief, as if I had just said something completely outrageous.
"Do you even realize I almost died? You're my wife, and the first thing you do when I just barely made it back from the brink is bring up divorce?" he said.
He was playing the victim, trying to make himself look like the good guy.
I looked at him, my eyes cold as ice. "Yeah, you almost died. But it could've just as easily been our son, Austin, lying here instead of you."
I put extra weight on the words 'our son, Austin,' making sure he felt every syllable.
"That's not the same! Mom..." he shot back, but I cut him off.
"What's the difference?" I leaned in, locking eyes with him. "Is it because you're thirty and weigh 150 pounds, while Austin's only three and weighs 30 pounds?
"Or is it because you're her son, so your life matters, but my son's life is just disposable to her?"
My voice was soft, but his face flushed red in an instant.
He was left speechless by my question.
After a few seconds, he changed tactics, his tone softening. "Camela, I know you feel wronged, and honestly, I'm still freaked out myself.
"Once I'm out of here, I'll really talk to her, make sure she apologizes to you, and promise she won't ever do it again. Can we stop fighting? For Austin's sake?"
Same old story.
He always made a big fuss, then acted like nothing ever happened.
He was always playing peacemaker, always telling me to just let it go and be the bigger person.
I'd had enough of it over the past five years.
"Sonny, this isn't the first time," I said, keeping my voice steady. "When Austin was just a year old, she snuck salt into his baby food, saying he'd be weak without it. He ended up puking and having diarrhea.
"When he was two, she gave him a popsicle behind my back, claiming boys shouldn't be spoiled. He landed in the hospital with pneumonia for half a month.
"Every single time, you told me she didn't mean it and asked me to just let it slide. Did it ever cross your mind that every one of her 'accidents' could've cost my son his life?"
Dragging up all those things from the past, I watched Sonny's face twist with every word.
He was losing his patience.
"Seriously, are you ever gonna let this go? What's the point of dragging up all this old stuff? She's my mom. She gave birth to me, raised me.
"Do you really think she'd ever do anything to hurt her own grandson? You just have it out for her."
There it was. He finally showed his true colors.
To him, his mother was always the sweet old lady who never did anything wrong.
And I was the petty, troublemaking daughter-in-law who was always trying to drive a wedge between them.
I looked at him and suddenly laughed.
Even nearly dying from an allergic reaction couldn't wake him up, not even for a second.
All the weight of me and Austin together couldn't compete with a single tear from his mother.
"Alright, I get it," I said, nodding as I stood up.
Anything more would just be a waste of breath.
I turned to leave, leaving him alone to either reflect what he'd done, or spending some time missing his mother.
Just then, the door to the hospital room creaked open.
My mother-in-law stood in the doorway.
She was dressed in clean clothes, her hair neatly combed, and she was carrying a thermos.
Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes timid and nervous, like a frightened old rabbit.
She completely ignored me, heading straight for the bed and setting the thermos down on the nightstand.
"Sonny, my son..." As soon as she spoke, tears streamed down her face. She threw herself at Sonny's bedside, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Mom, it's okay, don't cry," Sonny rushed to comfort her, shooting me a look full of blame, like I was the villain here.
My mother-in-law lifted her puffy, tear-stained eyes and pointed at me, her hand shaking. "Sonny, that evil witch is trying to kill you. She wants to tear our family apart."