My MIL Ruined My Honeymoon – but Then Karma Hit Her Three Times Harder

"It was your left leg," Molly said again, louder this time.

Giselle's smile twitched. "It's healing."

Brian's eyes finally lifted — sharp, confused, and stuck on her like a spotlight.

Molly blinked and said nothing. But something shifted in the room.

"It's healing."

I waited until the dishes were cleared, and Brian and I were alone in the kitchen.

"I'm done," I said flatly. "She needs to go."

"I know," he said, eyes lowered. "I called Aunt Lydia. She's agreed to take her. I already booked the ticket."

"When?"

"For Friday."

"Why not tomorrow?" I asked, looking him in the eye.

"She needs to go."

"Because... that was the cheapest ticket I could get. Because I also booked us a weekend away. Just us, Marie. No phone, no guilt, and definitely not my mother."

I nodded slowly. I didn't smile. Not yet.

Friday morning, I didn't wait for her bell. I packed her things. I carried her suitcase to the curb myself.

Giselle glanced at Brian like he'd stop me. He didn't.

I didn't smile. Not yet.

"You've got two working legs, Giselle. You've been lying for a month, and I've been allowing it because my husband felt guilty. He felt responsible for you. Do it yourself."

She didn't say goodbye.

Brian opened the cab door and finally said it.

"Mom, you're going to Lydia's. You're not coming back to our house."

"He felt responsible for you."

As the cab pulled away, I went inside, opened the closet, and pulled out my silk nightgown. I packed just the essentials.

We didn't go far. It was just a quiet cabin, deep in the trees. It was just my husband and me, and this time?

I gave myself permission to have peace, and when I closed my eyes, I wasn't holding my breath.

I packed just the essentials.

If you could give one piece of advice to anyone in this story, what would it be? Let’s talk about it in the Facebook comments.