A newlywed changed her linens every day until one morning, her mother-in-law came in and discovered blood on the bed. revealing a secret that breaks every mother’s heart…
My son Paulo had been married to Mira for just a week. Their wedding in Batangas was unadorned, yet it was filled with laughter, tears, and heartfelt vows. At first, Mira had been the ideal daughter-in-law—gentle, polite, always courteous, her pleasant smile lighting up every aspect of our home. Neighbors and relatives praised her. “We are truly lucky to have such a kind daughter-in-law,” I insisted to my acquaintances at the market. For the purposes of showing exclusivity. However, within a few days of the wedding, I began to observe something strange… Every morning, without exception, Mira would take the bed linens and blankets outside to be washed and dried in the sunlight. In a few days, he changed it twice more. Once I asked, “Why do you change the bed every day, son?” He just smiled gently and replied, “I’m allergic to dust, Mom.” I experience improved sleep quality when my surroundings are clean. However, I couldn’t shake off my uncertainty. All the linens were clean, fragrant, and carefully selected for the wedding. No member of our family had allergies. Slowly, distrust crept into my heart—something was being hidden. For the purposes of showing exclusivity. One morning, I pretended to leave for the market. As Mira came down from the kitchen, I cautiously entered their bedroom. As the door opened, a pungent metallic smell enveloped my senses. My heart was beating faster as I approached the bed. With trembling hands, I lifted the blanket… My knees almost gave way. The white mattress was stained with blood—thick, dark, and widespread. It wasn’t menstrual blood. It seemed changed—more confusing. Terrified, I opened the drawers. Inside were rolls of bandages, a bottle of disinfectant, and a meticulously folded, blood-stained shirt. I rushed downstairs, grabbed Mira by the wrist, and pulled her back. “Clean this up for me!” What was happening? What caused the blood? Why are you hiding it? For the purposes of exclusive display. At first, she remained silent. Her body was shaking, tears welled up in her eyes, and her lips were quivering. Then she collapsed into my arms, crying uncontrollably. “Mother…” Paulo had advanced leukemia. The doctors said he had only a month left. We rushed the wedding because of my inability to separate from him. I wanted to stay, no matter how short the time. My existence was shattered. My son—the child I had cared for and cherished—hid his grief just to protect me. She chose to suffer in silence to avoid my anxiety. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I stared at the ceiling, thinking about the hardship Paulo had endured and the quiet dedication Mira had shown. The next morning, I visited the market and bought fresh linens. I helped Mira clean the old clothes. Each day that followed, I got up early to support her—to support both of them. One morning, as we changed the bed together, I hugged her tightly. “I appreciate your help, Mira…” for expressing my love for my son. For settling down.
For choosing her, despite the awareness of the inevitable loss. Three months later, in the quiet morning, Paulo slowly lost his breath in his sleep, with Mira holding his hand and whispering “I love you” until his last breath. For the purposes of showing exclusively. No conflict. Fearlessness. Exclusively silent. A slight smile on her face. From that day on, Mira stayed.
She never rejoined her parents. She never remarried. Instead, she stayed with me, helping to run our small food booth. She treated me like her own mother. Two years have passed. When individuals ask, “Why does Mira continue to stay with you?” I just smile and respond: “Because she is not only my son’s wife…” She became my son too. This will remain her home forever. This work draws inspiration from actual events and individuals, although it is fictionalized for artistic purposes. Names, personalities, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the story. Any resemblance to real individuals, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.