I give my mother $25,000 a month to take care of my wife after she gives birth. But when I came home unexpectedly early, I found her secretly eating a bowl of spoiled rice mixed with fish heads and bones. What happened next was even more terrifying…

She crossed her arms. “Because she’s stubborn. She insists on eating things she shouldn’t after giving birth.”

“Things she shouldn’t?”

I pointed at the bowl.

“This?”

She pursed her lips. “In my day, women ate less after childbirth. That’s why they were strong.”

Lily’s shoulders trembled.

And in that moment, I understood—

if I stayed silent, nothing would change.

“Mom,” I said calmly, “the money I send you every month… what is it for?”

“To help the house,” she replied.

“No.”

My voice was firm.

“It’s to take care of my wife.”

Silence.

She stared at me.

“So you’re choosing her over your own mother?”

The question hung heavy.

I looked at Lily.

At the bowl.

Then back at her.

“I’m choosing what I can see.”