My husband and I have been married for five years and live in Irvine, California. Marriage has not always been smooth, but I still consider myself lucky to have a thoughtful mother-in-law. Susan is gentle, rarely interferes, and gives gentle advice.

I have been working too much lately, and my spirit is down. Mark—my husband—is busy and doesn’t care much. Seeing me so exhausted, one day my mother-in-law called me down to the living room and placed a thick envelope in front of me:

“Take this. Here’s $20,000. Go travel to Europe for a few weeks to relax, then come back and think about it.”

I was stunned. She had never given me such a large sum of money and even advised me to go out. I was touched, but I wondered: why did she want me to leave home at this time?

I still packed my bags and booked a flight from LAX. Mark didn’t object: “You go and get some fresh air. I’ll take care of things at home.” That sentence made me even more confused.

On the day I left for the airport, my mother-in-law personally took me there, giving me all sorts of instructions. I hugged her goodbye, but as soon as she turned her back, I changed my plan: pretending to fly, then quietly returning. I wanted to know what had happened at home during my “absence.”

I called a taxi home, got off a few hundred meters from home, and walked. As soon as I reached the end of the cul-de-sac, my heart was pounding. The garage door opened, and laughter echoed from inside the house. I hid behind the fence and looked inside, my heart aching: in the living room was…, Mark was sitting next to a young girl, leaning heavily on his shoulder. Mrs. Susan was also there—she didn’t object, on the contrary, she put out some food, happily saying:

“My daughter-in-law is gone, from now on you guys can relax. I just hope Mark has someone by his side. This girl is good, I like her very much.”

My ears were ringing. It turned out that the “trip” was just an excuse to get me out of the house, clearing the way for someone else to come in. The $20,000 was a “consolation” for me to leave quietly.

That night, I did not return home. I rented a room at a hotel near John Wayne Airport (SNA), and tossed and turned all night. I knew that if I kept quiet, I would always suffer.

The next morning, I contacted a lawyer in Costa Mesa, asked about the property division procedure and prepared the documents. I asked an acquaintance to record clear evidence. I wanted everything to be transparent.

Two weeks later, when they still thought I was “flying around Europe”, I walked into the living room with the lawyer, a file in my hand. Their faces were pale. Mark stammered, Susan was confused, and the girl retreated into the kitchen.

I looked straight at her, my voice calm but firm:

“Thank you for the $20,000 you gave me. I will use it to start a new life—free and easy. From now on, I am no longer related to this family.”

I put the divorce papers on the table, turned around and walked away without looking back. This time I left that house not as someone abandoned—but as a woman strong enough to choose her own happiness.