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Love Lost, Found Again Novel Cover

Love Lost, Found Again

I had been in a relationship with Yusuf for ten years, and on the morning we were supposed to get our marriage license, I found myself standing at the courthouse, waiting. He never showed up. Determined to find out why, I drove to his office where he was working. As I gently pushed the office door open, I overheard him speaking to a female student. "I'm not planning on getting married right now. Besides, she's pregnant with my child; she won't be going anywhere." Through the narrow opening, I watched them, lost in affection and whispers, as if they were wrapped in their own world. Without a word, I turned away and made a call. "Set up an appointment for me. I need to schedule an abortion." --- Yusuf and I had been together for a decade. We met in grad school, working side by side on experiments and searching for research topics.
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Chapter 5

Last night's sleep was restless, and through the fog of sleep, I heard a loud knocking at the door. Dragging myself to open it, a voice came in even before the person did.

"Madelyn, once you're a mother, you can't sleep in so late," Winifred Carpenter proclaimed as she barged in, quickly surveying the room before making herself comfortable right in the middle of the couch.

"Yusuf is a university professor, always so busy. You need to take good care of him. Once you marry into our family, don't be so lazy," she continued. "To be honest, the only reason you can marry Yusuf is that he likes you so much. Otherwise..." Her eyes swept over me, and she added, "You should be grateful. It's quite the step up for you."

Winifred never missed a chance to belittle me, wanting me to feel indebted to her and her son. Seeing that I neither moved nor acknowledged her, she frowned and added, "No sense of hospitality, eh? Not even a cup of coffee for your future mother-in-law? Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?" She glared at me with her arms crossed, sitting there with a self-satisfied look.

Suddenly, I recalled our first meeting. After Yusuf proposed, he brought me to meet his mother. For our first dinner, she only made three simple dishes. The only meat dish was spiced honey ham, and she deliberately placed a spoonful of the spices directly onto my plate. With a patronizing tone, she said, "We shouldn't waste food; I only made a few dishes."

"And Madelyn, I heard you don’t like strong spices, but being picky isn’t good for your health, especially if you want to have a healthy baby boy."

She watched me expectantly as if I was supposed to eat it all. Yusuf knew I disliked strong spices; from our very first meal together, he would always ensure they were mild. But here, with one swift motion, he piled the stuff he usually avoided back onto my dish. Yusuf remained silent, so I forced a smile and dutifully ate a mouthful, grimacing through the taste. Unable to stomach it, I rushed to the bathroom and threw up.

From outside, his mother shouted loudly, "I don’t want a fussy daughter-in-law. These young women are so fragile these days."

We barely got through the meal. As we left, Yusuf snapped at me. "What’s wrong with eating a bit of spice? Were you trying to embarrass my mom?" His frown softened as he saw my dismay, and he added more gently, "Madelyn, my mom raised me all by herself. Let’s just cut her some slack, okay?"

Despite my discomfort, I swallowed my pride and nodded, figuring we were all going to be one family soon enough. I decided to put in more effort. On Thanksgiving, I chose expensive jewelry and clothes to gift her. During meals, I was the one bustling around the kitchen, preparing elaborate spreads.

Winifred would criticize even as she ate, dismissing my efforts with, "This just isn’t authentic, looks like you didn’t really put your heart into it." She barely touched any dish, and then used her utensils, still wet with saliva, to pick through everything, making it impossible for me to enjoy what I made.

Initially, Yusuf helped with the cooking, but soon enough, he’d only arrive just as I was finishing up. After eating, he'd relax while Winifred fussed over him, saying, "My hard-working son, let me cut some fruit for you." The two of them, mother and son, were perfectly content, leaving the mess for me to clean up alone.

I've had enough of this nonsense. Snapping back to the present, I glared at Winifred. "First of all, I supported Yusuf through his Ph.D. financially. You didn’t contribute a dime."

"We both work, so why should I handle the home and earn money too? He's marrying a wife, not a replacement mother."

"You know I'm pregnant, yet you come to upset me, expecting me to wait on you. Are you paying me to be your family’s maid?"

I let out a torrent of frustrations that had been bottled up for months, and it felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest. I poured myself a glass of water, took a sip to soothe my throat, and turned to her with a smile.

"And my parents did teach me to respect my elders. They just didn’t teach me to respect those who don’t earn it."

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