I used to think love could protect me from everything. That Theo, my husband, would always be there to catch me. When he asked me to leave my finance job to be a stay-at-home mom, he promised I’d never have to worry. I loved him, so I said yes. We had twin girls, Hazel and Ivy, who became our whole world.

Then he was gone.

It was a gray afternoon when the call came. Theo was hurrying home from a business trip, excited to see us. The roads were slick, and his car skidded off the highway. The officer said it was quick, no pain. But all I heard was my heart pounding in my ears.

Days blurred. The funeral came and went. I held my girls close, replaying Theo’s last voicemail to hear his voice. I thought losing him was the worst pain possible.

I was wrong.

After the funeral, I stayed at the cemetery, needing a moment with Theo before facing reality. Selene, my mother-in-law, had taken the girls home. “We’ll talk when you’re back,” she said. “I’ll get the twins bathed and settled.”

When I got home, Selene was waiting in the living room, her back stiff, hands clasped, her eyes cold and sharp. “This house is mine, Nova,” she said. “I let you and Theo live here, but now I’m taking it back.”

My breath caught, like I’d been shoved. “What?”

She sighed, like I was wasting her time. “Theo never changed the deed. I offered after the twins were born, but he didn’t do it. It’s still mine. You can stay… in the garage.”

I searched her face for a hint of kindness, some sign she was grieving and didn’t mean it. But her gaze was hard. She wanted me to beg. I knew it.

I looked at Hazel and Ivy, curled up on the couch, their sleepy eyes watching me. They’d lost their dad. I couldn’t let them lose their home too. So I nodded.

The garage smelled of oil and rust. At night, the cold sank into my bones through the thin mat and blanket I slept on. When it got too bad, I curled up in the car’s backseat, hugging myself for warmth. I told myself it was temporary. Theo had left us money, but legal stuff takes time. Until it was sorted, I had nothing—no job, no access to our accounts, nowhere to go. Shame kept me from telling anyone.

I only entered the house to cook for the girls, do their laundry, or kiss them goodnight. I moved through my own home like a stranger. Selene barely looked at me. Why would she? She’d won.

One afternoon, I sat with Hazel and Ivy in the living room. Crayons scattered across the coffee table as they drew, their faces scrunched in focus. “I’m drawing Daddy’s eyes blue!” Hazel said, pressing hard on her paper. “Like the ocean.”

Ivy tilted her head. “Mine’s smiling. Daddy always smiled,” she said, her own smile peeking through.

I swallowed hard. “He did,” I whispered.

The air felt heavy with unspoken things. The only sounds were crayons scratching and little feet shifting on the rug.

Then Ivy spoke. “Mommy? Why do you sleep in the garage?”

My hands froze. Hazel looked up, her eyes wide and trusting, just like Theo’s when he’d ask the girls about their dreams.

“Yeah,” Hazel added. “Grandma sleeps in your bed. Why don’t you?”

Pain twisted in my chest. I forced a smile, tucking Ivy’s hair behind her ear. “Sometimes grown-ups make tough choices, sweethearts. It’s not fun, but it’s for a bigger reason.”

Ivy frowned, thinking hard. “But you’re Daddy’s wife.”

The words hit like a punch. “I am,” I whispered.

“Then why does Grandma get the big bed?” Hazel asked.

I opened my mouth, but no words came. A creak came from the hallway. I glanced up and saw Selene gripping the doorframe, her face pale. She wasn’t looking at me—she was watching the girls. For the first time, she looked like she’d made a terrible mistake. But she didn’t speak. She just turned and walked away.

One night, a knock came at the garage door. I opened it to find Selene. She wasn’t the same woman who’d banished me. Her neat hair was messy, gray strands standing out. Her face was pale, lips dry. Her hands shook.

I frowned. Had she always been this thin? I cooked every day, making enough for all of us. Had she not been eating?

Her voice cracked. “Nova, please.”

I waited, saying nothing.

“I made a terrible mistake,” she whispered. “I’m sick.”

Her lips trembled, and I saw fear in her eyes—something I’d never seen before.

I should’ve felt satisfied, seeing her so vulnerable. But I was just tired. “What do you want?” I asked, my voice flat.

“The doctors say it’s bad,” she said. “I keep thinking… maybe this is my punishment.”

I crossed my arms. “For what? Kicking your widowed daughter-in-law into a garage?”

She flinched. “For everything, Nova. For how I treated you. For pushing people away.”

Silence hung between us. Then she pulled papers from her coat. “I transferred the house to you and the girls,” she said. “It’s yours now. As it should’ve been.”

“Why?” I asked, my stomach tightening.

“Because I have no one else.”

I stared at the papers, proof I’d never have to beg again. But Selene’s face was heavy with regret, and for a moment, I saw her not as my enemy but as a woman who’d faced her own cruelty.

“Come inside,” I said.

Her breath caught. “It’s cold out here,” she said, stepping in.

“I know,” I replied. “You get used to it.”

For the first time, Selene—the woman who’d treated me like nothing—let herself cry.

The guest room didn’t feel like hers. I could tell by how she moved, careful not to disturb anything. She sat stiffly on the bed, hands clasped, staring at the tea I’d set on the nightstand. The lamp’s soft glow made her look small.

It was my first night back in the house, in the bedroom Theo and I had shared. It felt strange, but I was grateful to be out of the garage. I sat across from Selene, legs tucked up, holding my own mug. The silence was heavy but not angry.

She spoke first. “I have cancer,” she said quietly. “Stage three.”

I exhaled slowly. The words hit hard, even though I’d guessed it was serious. “I don’t know what’s next,” she admitted, tracing her mug’s rim with shaky fingers. “I’m scared, Nova.”

“I know,” I said, nodding. “But you’re not alone. I’m here. The girls are here for hugs and giggles.”

“I don’t deserve you,” she said, her voice breaking.

“Probably not,” I said, stopping her before she could spiral. “But Hazel and Ivy love you. And like it or not, you’re family.”

Her throat bobbed, and she let out a shaky breath. “Theo would want us to look out for each other.”

“Yeah,” I said. “He would.”

Selene rubbed her face, laughing weakly. “God, I’m gonna eat so much soup, aren’t I?”

I snorted. “Oh, yeah. Soup, herbal tea, all the healthy stuff you used to skip.”

She grimaced. “Can’t we say wine’s medicine?”

I laughed, and to my surprise, so did she. It wasn’t perfect or easy, but I knew we’d be okay. We were family.

After that, I took Selene to every doctor’s appointment. I wanted to get back to work, but this felt more important for now. We had Theo’s money to lean on until I could start again.

The doctor’s office smelled of antiseptic. Selene sat beside me, hands clenched, knuckles white. Dr. Patel, a kind-eyed man in his fifties, flipped through her chart. “The biopsy confirms stage three,” he said gently. “We need to start chemo and radiation soon. It’s treatable, but it won’t be easy.”

For illustrative purposes onlyFor illustrative purposes only
Selene nodded stiffly, like she was bracing herself. I waited for her to speak, but she didn’t.

“Will she need surgery?” I asked.

“Eventually, yes,” Dr. Patel said. “First, we shrink the tumor. It’s a long road.”

“I know,” Selene said, her voice small.

She looked so fragile, nothing like the woman who’d sent me to the garage.

“Do you have family to support you?” the doctor asked.

Selene hesitated. “She has us,” I said firmly. “She’s not doing this alone.”

I took her hand. Her fingers twitched, like she wasn’t used to being held, but she didn’t pull away.

“That makes all the difference,” Dr. Patel said, smiling.

Selene was quiet the whole drive home. But when we pulled into the driveway, she let out a shaky breath. “Thank you, Nova. For being so good.”

“We’ll get through this,” I said.

For the first time, she nodded like she believed me.