I Was Pregnant, Craving Strawberries, and Married to a Monster

I was pregnant, and I was craving strawberries. I bought two pounds of them, brought them home, washed them perfectly clean, and called my husband and mother-in-law to come have some. I went to my bedroom to change my clothes. When I came back, the plate was full of pale, white cores. The bright red, sweetest tips of the strawberries had been bitten off by my husband. The middle parts had been gnawed away by my mother-in-law. My mother-in-law, her mouth dripping with juice, pushed the plate toward me: "Emily, eat! They’re so sweet!" I stared at the pale, leftover bottoms of the strawberries. Stuck to the fruit were gross, dark green bits of garlic and spinach that had fallen out of my mother-in-law's teeth! I grabbed the edge of the table and flipped it over. I turned, walked out the front door, and called my mom. "Mom, you were right. I'm getting the abortion." 1 I had been talking about wanting strawberries for a week. David promised to buy them for me every single day. And every single day, he came home from work looking like a beaten dog, dragging his feet, and giving me a shameless smile: "Sorry, honey, I totally forgot!" His mother would stand off to the side, doting on her precious son. She’d hand him a cold beer, massage his shoulders, and then throw a passive-aggressive jab at me: "What’s so special about a fancy fruit anyway? You don’t have to eat it today. I’ll buy it for you tomorrow!" I was furious. I complained to David: "Your mom says she'll buy them for me every day, and I still haven't had a single strawberry all week!" The moment I brought up his mother, his face darkened: "Do you know how old she is? It’s hard enough for her to come all the way out here to take care of you, and you have the nerve to order her around?" His tone made my blood boil. "Then send her back home! Who asked her to take care of me?!" David’s eyes grew cold. He clenched his jaw and didn't say another word. We had been fighting about this constantly lately. I was so sick and tired of it. As my best friend put it: "Just tolerate it. It's his mom. If he’s the kind of guy who abandons his mother the second he gets a wife, you couldn't rely on his character anyway." I sat heavily on the edge of the bed. Fine. I'll just buy the damn strawberries myself tomorrow! 2 I specifically asked to leave work half an hour early. I took a long detour to an upscale organic grocery store just to buy them. I never used to have cravings like this. It was definitely the pregnancy. Not getting to eat what I was craving was making my entire body physically uncomfortable. When I got home, my mother-in-law, Martha, was sitting on the couch with drooping eyelids, knitting baby booties. I had told her previously that no one puts babies in hand-knitted itchy wool booties anymore. She didn't listen, so I stopped caring. Let her do what she wants. When she looked up and saw the carton of strawberries in my hand, her sarcastic attitude immediately flared up. "Oh, so you actually bought them? Wow, young people these days are so spoiled. Eating whatever they want, whenever they want. Back in my day, the men got the best cuts of the roast, and the women ate the scraps and gristle." I couldn't be bothered to respond. At this point, my strategy with her was just to pretend she didn't exist. Just as I was heading to the kitchen to wash the fruit, the front door clicked open. David was home. He walked in completely empty-handed, acting like an overgrown infant, holding his arms out so his mommy could take his coat. "The project is finally over, Emily. I'll spend lots of time with you these next couple of days." I looked at him and let out a cold laugh. "You're home so early. Where are my strawberries?" He slapped his forehead. "I forgot. I'll go buy them right now." Martha quickly grabbed his arm. "Come back here! You're exhausted, don't run back out. See, no one loves you as much as your mother." After saying that, she shot a vicious, sideways glare at me. I turned into the kitchen, washed the strawberries thoroughly, and popped one into my mouth. God, it was so sweet! I looked down and realized I was still in my work clothes. I set the bowl of strawberries on the dining table. "Have a couple. I can't eat all of these myself anyway." I went to the bedroom, changed into my loungewear, and came back out. My strawberries were ruined. A plate full of pale, white bottoms. Not a speck of red left. David had already rolled off to his study to play video games. Martha, chewing loudly with juice staining her lips, pushed the plate toward me: "Emily, eat! They’re so sweet!" 3 I had waited a week for these strawberries! I bought them, I washed them, and I only got to eat exactly one! I didn't even need to guess. The sweet, red tips were definitely bitten off by David, and the middle parts were gnawed on by Martha! Ever since Martha moved into our house, this was how she and David divided food. If I cooked a steak, David got the tender center cuts, and Martha happily took the fatty edges. Martha was even proud of it. She used to say that when David’s father was alive, she wasn't even allowed to eat the fatty cuts. Now, her status had been elevated! I stared at the leftover strawberry bottoms on the plate. On several of them, I could clearly see the dark green bits of leftover spinach and garlic that had dislodged from Martha’s teeth. Wilted, dark green muck smelling of garlic, stuck to the remaining quarter-inch of fruit... and she wanted me to eat it? Eat my ass! My stomach violently churned with intense nausea! These were my strawberries! This was my house! I was shaking uncontrollably with rage. "AHHH!" I screamed, grabbed the edge of the table, and flipped it into the air! The cute, ceramic piglet plate crashed to the floor, shattering into a million pieces. It looked like it had been violently executed. I grabbed my coat, snatched my purse, and slammed the door behind me. In the fraction of a second before the door clicked shut, I heard David’s panicked voice: "What's going on?! Emily, where are you going?!" 4 Where was I going? Yeah, where was I going? I lived in this city with no family and no close friends. I had no one to rely on. I only had David. And until recently, I actually thought I had love. What an absolute joke. I was delusional. I walked laps around our neighborhood complex for a long time, letting the cold air calm me down. A decision I had been agonizing over for weeks finally cemented itself in my mind. I dialed the one number that would never, ever reject me. The moment the call connected, I couldn't hold back my sobs: "Mom, you were right! I'm getting the abortion!" Before I could say another word, my phone was violently snatched from my hand. I could hear my mom’s panicked voice projecting from the speaker: "Emily! Emily, what happened?! Emily!" It was David. He looked absolutely furious as he hung up the call. "Stop acting crazy! It's such a trivial thing, is this really necessary?!" The tears I had been desperately holding back finally spilled over. I stared at him with pure stubborn defiance. "Give me my phone." He frowned, extending his arm high into the air. I was six inches shorter than him; I couldn't reach it. "Can you stop running to mommy and daddy over every little inconvenience? We're married. If there's an issue, we discuss it! You literally flipped our dining table, and I didn't even yell at you. Can you stop throwing a tantrum? You're making a joke out of us in front of the neighbors. Let's go home and talk." I jumped up furiously, trying to snatch the phone from his grip. "Give it to me! I have nothing left to say to you. Go live with your mother!" He raised his arm even higher, getting agitated: "When it comes down to it, you just despise my mom! You are so incredibly disappointing!" 5 I clawed at his arm, jumping wildly to reach the phone. He gripped my wrist tightly, trying to pin me down. That was when Martha came running out of the building. While she was still a good thirty feet away, she suddenly sprinted, dropped to her knees, and did a dramatic baseball slide right across the pavement, stopping right in front of me. Smack! She slammed her forehead onto the concrete. "Oh, my dear daughter-in-law! You're taking my life away! Please stop jumping around, if anything happens to my grandson, how will I ever face your parents in the afterlife?!" Watching her performance, I completely froze. I knew she was a two-faced actress, playing sweet to my face and talking trash behind my back. But I never expected a theatrical display of this magnitude. David couldn't handle it. He reached down to pull his mother up. "Mom, what are you doing?!" Then, he turned his head and glared at me with vicious eyes: "Hurry up and help my mom up!" I help her?! I’ll help you straight to hell! Martha used David’s leverage to stand up. She immediately started slapping her own face, over and over again. "I was wrong! I am a sinner! I shouldn't have eaten your strawberries! Please don't be mad at me, just come home with me." David was completely broken by this. Tears were literally welling up in his eyes. "My mom is literally begging you, what more do you want?! I admit I was wrong, okay?! Tomorrow I will buy out the entire farmer's market so you can eat all the strawberries you want!" Because of their loud, dramatic wailing, neighbors were starting to gather. Seeing that she had an audience, Martha’s acting kicked into overdrive. "I shouldn't have eaten the strawberries. I don't deserve to eat them! I didn't know my daughter-in-law valued those fruits more than my life! Back in our rural village, wild berries grow everywhere in the mountains! If you love them so much, Mom will go pick them for you! Just stop fighting with us, please come home. I came here with a good heart to serve you, but if you can't tolerate me, I'll leave! I'll never come back! I'm just old and useless!" The surrounding neighbors started pointing fingers at me. "Am I hearing this right? Over some fruit? Is she serious?" "Exactly. She couldn't bear to part with a few bucks worth of fruit. That breaks an old woman's heart!" "Parents give their absolute all to their kids, and look at how the kids treat them. Can't even let her eat a strawberry." "It's so hard being old! If you don't help, they say you're lazy. If you do help, they say you're a burden. Might as well just die when you get old." I watched as the crowd threw their judgmental words at me like poison darts. Some people were even pulling out their phones to record me. I couldn't take it anymore. I screamed at the top of my lungs: "Her! That old hag! She wanted me to eat the scraps she spat out! Strawberries covered in her garlic and spinach spit! If I handed them to you, would you eat them?!" 6 I was going insane. I was shivering with pure anger. I ground my teeth together and glared at David: "Give me back my phone. Give it to me!!!" His eyes were bloodshot. He looked at me with unadulterated hatred. I had never seen him look at me like that before. It was like I wasn't his wife. I was the murderer who killed his entire family, and he loathed my very existence. I used every ounce of my strength to punch him in the chest: "I told you to give me my phone!" Smack! He slapped me across the face! I fell hard onto the pavement! A second later, my phone started ringing in his hand. He glanced at the screen. Then, using all of his strength, he violently hurled my phone at the concrete. The screen shattered into a million pieces. The ringtone died instantly. Silence. In the fraction of a second before the screen went black, I saw the caller ID: Mom. My mother! I reached my absolute breaking point. Shaking with fury, I used all my strength to spring up from the ground and delivered a brutal kick directly to David’s groin. He let out a horrifying howl, clutching his crotch, and dropped to his knees in agony. I scrambled to grab my shattered phone to run. But Martha grabbed me in a death grip. In the chaotic pulling and shoving, my vision blurred, and everything went completely dark. 7 When I opened my eyes, I was back in the bedroom of our apartment. Beside the bed, David was sitting with his head slumped forward, his hands gripping his hair tightly. I heard footsteps approaching, so I quickly squeezed my eyes shut. "David, you need to eat something. You're going to break your mother's heart." "I don't want to eat. Mom, shouldn't we take her to the hospital? It's been all night. I'm worried something's wrong." "Oh, please! I've been through this, would I harm my own grandson? She's fine, pregnant women are just frail. Especially her, she refuses to eat this and that, so picky. You spoiled her into having these bad habits! Plain food builds a strong body. Women these days act like they're laying a golden egg when they get pregnant. When I gave birth to you, I was still bleeding when I pulled my pants up and went to the kitchen to cook dinner." David's voice sounded like he was trying to suppress his panic, wavering unsteadily. "Times are different, Mom. Emily has never suffered a day in her life." Martha’s voice suddenly dropped her usual sweet facade and became ice cold. "If she hasn't suffered, then she needs to suffer now. What woman doesn't suffer? When the baby comes, are you going to carry the burden of this whole house alone? Are you going to serve her every day? She actually dared to kick you! You should have beaten her to a pulp! If you don't break her terrible habits now, you'll be the one suffering later. Come eat with Mom! Ignore her! If she doesn't wake up soon, I'll take a sewing needle to her lip, I guarantee that'll wake her up." After a long pause, the shuffling footsteps slowly faded away. David left the room and closed the door. The room was dead silent. I slowly opened my eyes, feeling like I had just woken up from a terrifying nightmare. 8 David and I were college classmates. He chased me relentlessly for four years. I loved sleeping in, so every morning he would run to the dining hall to grab hot breakfast sandwiches and deliver them to my dorm. When I had an internship fifteen miles off-campus, he rode his bicycle through traffic just to bring me my favorite candied fruit from a street vendor. During the first heavy snow of winter, I opened my curtains to find a massive snowman outside my window, and him standing next to it, his face red from the freezing cold. I knew he came from a poor background, but if he had a dollar, he was willing to spend ninety cents on me. When I finally agreed to date him, our entire department was shocked. Everyone said his sheer willpower and persistence wore me down. The guys marveled that relentless stalking actually worked. The girls were horrified, asking if I had gone legally blind. After graduation, we dated for three years. He took care of my every need. When he proposed, the diamond ring cost him over three thousand dollars. I knew that was money he had saved by working multiple side jobs from dawn till dusk. Even though the diamond was tiny, I was moved to tears. Back then, I deeply believed in a popular saying: Don't judge a man by how much money he has; judge him by how much of it he is willing to spend on you. I truly believed he would treat me well for the rest of my life. Who cared if he was a little broke? We could build our wealth together. 9 When I told my parents I was going to marry him, my mom fought me tooth and nail. Our relationship became incredibly strained over it. I even slammed my hand on the table and yelled at them: "I only asked for your opinion out of respect! I don't need your permission to get a marriage license, and you can't stop me!" My mom looked at me with eyes full of disappointment and heartbreak. She pressed her lips tightly together and didn't speak for a long time. In the end, they couldn't stop me. My mom yelled: "Fine! If you marry him, we won't give you a single dime for the wedding!" I was so arrogant. I told her I didn't care about their money anyway. But on the actual day I got married, my dad slipped a bank card into my hand. He sighed heavily. "Your mother has a sharp tongue but a soft heart. Whether you understand it or not, she is truly looking out for you. But I sincerely hope you made the right choice. Emily... you are our entire world. Do you know how hard it is for parents to watch their child willingly walk into hardship? Remember, if anything ever happens, call us immediately." At the time, I was actually thrilled. I thought I had won the war against my parents!!! 10 After he finished his Master's degree, I compromised and moved across the country with him to this city. The night before we left, I peeked through the crack in my parents' door. My mom was sobbing against my dad’s chest. "It's my fault. I raised her to be too naive." My heart ached, but I swore to myself that I would build a beautiful life and prove that my choice was right. I’d show them. In the beginning, things were sweet. But everything changed the moment I got pregnant and Martha moved in. I always knew he grew up in a rural area. But when we got married, Martha didn't even attend the wedding. His excuse was that she was in poor health, had never traveled, and it was too far away. I even said at the time: "Then we should go visit her! We're getting married, I can't just never meet my mother-in-law." His eyes darted nervously. "You'll meet her eventually. The living conditions out in the country are rough, I'm afraid you won't adapt. My mom is a great person, she won't mind." It wasn't until I got pregnant that my husband said: "We're both so busy, and you really need someone to take care of you right now. Why don't I bring my mom out here? She can cook for you. Ordering takeout every day isn't healthy." I thought it was a good idea. I planned to treat her like my own mother. I firmly believed I could build a good relationship with her. Reality proved I was dangerously naive. Her "cooking for me" meant that if David was home, there was fresh food. If he wasn't, she would heat up three-day-old leftovers and serve them to me. If there were a few good cuts of meat in a dish and I grabbed one with my chopsticks, she would literally snatch it from my bowl and put it in her son's. She constantly tried to brainwash me. She’d say pregnant women who did hard labor had easier deliveries. She’d brag about washing cloth diapers in freezing well-water in the dead of winter. She constantly talked about how tough she was, how much she suffered, and how she sacrificed her blood, sweat, and tears to raise David. Whenever she told these stories, mother and son would stare at each other, eyes brimming with tears! The most infuriating part was that after she memorized my phone passcode, she constantly snooped through my phone. I had reached my limit. I asked David multiple times to send his mother home, saying I didn't need her taking care of me. He just glared at me coldly: "She is my mother! Blood is thicker than water! Now that I have a good life, shouldn't she get to enjoy it? Are you disgusted by her?!"

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