My Wife’s Ultimatum Backfired When I Chose My Father Over Her

Morning light spilled into my father Mikhail’s cozy kitchen, where he sat with his coffee, hands shaky but steady enough to hold memories of my late mother, Irina. Photos of me, Sergei, and my brother, Pavel, lined the walls, Irina’s warm smile in every frame. “You called me stubborn, Irina,” Mikhail murmured, chuckling sadly. Her absence left the house quiet, but her knitted blanket on the sofa kept her near. I checked on him daily, but my wife, Marina, who moved in three years ago, grew restless.

Marina’s heels clicked as she rushed in. “Sergei, we’re behind schedule!” she snapped, barely glancing at Mikhail. She found the house too small, often grumbling about Mikhail’s presence. “It’s old,” she’d say, dismissing his quiet pride. I’d reply, “It’s his home.” One night, after Marina tossed Mikhail’s unfinished meal, I overheard her demand: “Send your father to a care home, or I’m leaving. I’ve reserved a spot.” Her words stung, but Mikhail overheard, his face falling.

A serious woman on her phone | Source: Freepik

The next day, Mikhail waited with a suitcase, saying, “Don’t ruin your life for me, son.” I drove, my heart heavy, but stopped at the airport. “You’re not going to a home, Dad. We’re visiting Pavel.” Marina was gone, a note left behind: “Family deserves respect. My father’s my priority.” At Pavel’s seaside home, he hugged Mikhail, his kids shouting, “Grandpa!” We laughed over fish tacos on the beach, Mikhail’s eyes bright. Pavel’s wife, Lena, said, “You raised good men.” Mikhail nodded, at peace.

Marina found my note, her plans crumbling. Months later, Mikhail and I stood on Pavel’s deck, a “Family Forever” sign in the yard. “Irina would smile,” Mikhail said. I agreed, knowing love holds a family together, not demands. Mikhail’s joy was worth every choice.

 

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