My life was predictable, working as a freelance graphic designer, until my mother-in-law, Cordelia, moved in three months ago. Her husband’s passing had left her alone, and we welcomed her with open arms. But from the start, something felt off.
Cordelia’s behavior was unpredictable. Every Thursday, she’d leave early, returning late, reeking of decay. Her excuses about meeting old friends seemed suspicious. My husband, Xander, brushed it off, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
One Thursday, I decided to follow her. She led me to a hidden, illegal casino in the shadiest part of town. I watched in shock as she gambled away, her eyes fixed on the cards, her hands trembling with each bet.
I felt frozen, unsure what to do. Cordelia’s desperation and obsession were palpable. She lost and won, but ultimately left exhausted, carrying the weight of her losses.
The next morning, I confronted her. “Stop lying, Cordelia,” I snapped. “I followed you. I know where you were.” Her face crumpled, and she broke down, confessing her addiction.
Xander was furious, feeling betrayed. “You’ve been draining us,” I said, anger boiling inside me. “We took you in because we cared, not to feed your addiction.”
Cordelia promised to change, but I knew tough love was needed. The next Thursday, I handed her cash, and she snatched it, revealing her true intentions. But I had set a trap.
Undercover cops raided the casino, catching her red-handed. The judge sentenced her to rehab and a hefty fine.
Months later, Cordelia returned, fragile and remorseful. Xander and I offered her another chance, on our terms: a modest apartment and support group meetings.
As we watched her walk away, I felt hope mixed with fear. Had she truly changed? Only time would tell.
Our experience taught me that sometimes, love requires tough decisions. By confronting Cordelia’s addiction, we gave her a chance to rebuild. Now, it’s up to her to prove that change is possible.
