Chapter 4: We Both Came Back

As soon as my wife headed for the kitchen, I followed. Once inside, I whispered, “We can’t let Mom stay here. If she does, it’ll be trouble. As soon as lunch is over, we have to get her to leave.”

I kept my voice low, glancing over my shoulder. I didn’t want Mom overhearing, not yet.

My wife didn’t answer, just looked at me with a half-smile. Then, out of nowhere, she started wiping her tears. That scared me, and I rushed over. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

Her shoulders shook, and for a moment, I thought maybe the stress had finally broken her. But then she looked up, her eyes searching mine.

She wiped her eyes and looked at me seriously. “Jim, be honest—did you get a second chance too?”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it hit me like a thunderclap. My heart skipped a beat.

Thinking about how different she was acting, I suddenly understood. Delighted, I said, “You mean you…”

My voice broke, hope rising in my chest for the first time in years.

She nodded, and we hugged each other tightly, both in tears.

I held her like I never wanted to let go, both of us crying for everything we’d lost, and everything we had a chance to save.

It turned out that after I died in my last life, things were just as hard for my wife and daughter. My daughter needed to go to school but had nowhere to live. With no choice, my wife borrowed money from her family, rented a place in town, and stayed there with our daughter.

She told me about the nights she spent staring at the ceiling, wondering if things would ever get better. About how she tried to keep our daughter’s spirits up, even when she wanted to give up herself.

But my mom wouldn’t let up. Even though she couldn’t get around, her mouth still worked. She spread rumors in the neighborhood that my wife was messing around with other men, and even dragged my sixteen-year-old daughter into it. My daughter’s reputation was ruined, and she was ostracized at school. No matter where they went, people pointed and whispered.

It was worse than I’d imagined. The gossip spread like wildfire, and there was no way to put it out. My daughter came home in tears more days than not. My wife’s family stopped calling. They were alone.

In the end, both mother and daughter lost hope and took their own lives.

The words felt like a punch to the gut. I wanted to scream, to beg forgiveness, but all I could do was hold her tighter.

Hearing all this from my wife, I felt even more guilty. I swore I’d kick my mom out, stop being a doormat of a son, and make sure my wife and daughter had a good life.

I made a silent promise right there—never again. I’d do whatever it took to protect them.

But my wife shook her head. “No, we can’t just kick her out. You know what your mom’s like—if you throw her out, who knows what she’ll say behind our backs? The whole neighborhood will be pointing fingers at us.”

She was right, of course. In a small town, your reputation is everything. One bad story and you’re branded for life.

“We have to make her leave on her own.”

She had a plan, and I could see the determination in her eyes. This time, we’d do it together.

I nodded. “So how do we get her to leave?”

I was ready to follow her lead, whatever it took.

My wife smiled. “Just don’t get in my way. Leave it to me.”

Her confidence was contagious. For the first time, I felt like we had a fighting chance. Maybe we really could do this.