The UngratefulShe stared at the wilted roses, realizing that forgiveness was the only seed left to plant in the barren garden.

Sarah, were starving! Stop lying there and get up! a disgruntled voice called from above the bed.

Sarahs head throbbed, her throat felt raw, and her nose was completely blocked. Every attempt to sit up felt as if she were made of cotton. It was no wonder shed fallen ill.

The week had been unusually warm, but on the evening before yesterday, a sudden sleetandrainstorm rolled in. Spring was finally showing its face, yet the weather made it impossible to flag down a cab. She was forced to catch a municipal bus from work. After a halfhour wait she finally found a bus, but it was packed to the brim. She squeezed herself in, grateful to have a seat at last, and then still had a long walk from the stop to the house.

She had asked her husband to pick her up on his way home.

Victor, were heading to my mothers with Aaron. Well be late, Victor texted.

As usual.

Sarah trudged home late, soaked through and shivering. She glanced at the clock: 8a.m. on a Saturday.

Victor, could you bring the thermometer, please? she croaked.

Whats wrong? Are you sick? Victor sounded surprised. And breakfast?

Youll make it yourself? Sarah asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

What do you mean, myself? Victor frowned. Wheres Aaron?

Hes ten now! And youre an adult, dear. Could you at least fry some eggs? Let our son give you a hand; I taught him how. Hes grown up enough.

You taught him to cook? Victor blurted.

Yes. Whats the problem? He spends all day on his phone and never helps around the house. Sarah shrugged.

Youre absurd! Men arent expected to cook, thats a womans work! Victor snapped. Fine, well go stay with my parents. Well be back tomorrow night.

And with that, Victor and his mother packed a bag and left for the Clarke family home in the suburbs.

Sarah managed to sit up, fetched the thermometer, switched on the kettle and stared into the steam.

*Why did it come to this?* she thought. *When did the moment pass when Victor could have simply made a pot of tea for both of us, when, in sickness, we used to look after each other? Why have all the household chores suddenly become my burden?*

The thermometer beeped: 39.2°C.

She took her pills and slipped back into bed.

A few minutes later her phone buzzed. It was her mother, Margaret.

Sarah, why havent you called? I always expect you to ring in the morning Margaret fretted.

Mum, Im a little under the weather. I took my meds and fell asleep again Sarah rasped.

Ah, just a little! And wheres Victor? Off with Aaron at your mothers again? Margaret complained.

Weve gone to avoid catching anything Sarah replied weakly.

Do you really believe that? Avoid catching anything Dont overwork yourself, or youll have to wash the dishes yourself! Margaret snapped.

Mum! Sarah tried to protest, but her mother cut her off. She knew exactly what she was saying.

Stop whinging! I have the right to be angry. I married you, not a servant! Did you check your temperature?

Yes, it was high this morning. Its a bit better now, but Im still weak Sarah sighed.

Stay in bed! Father will pick you up soon. Ill help you get on your feet! Its no good staying sick alone. Hold on Margaret hung up.

Sarah rose slowly, washed her face, gathered her laptop and a few essentials, and waited for her father.

When he arrived, his face went white as he saw her.

Oh my! he gasped, clutching his chest.

Dad? Whats wrong? Sarah jumped.

Ah, its you! he said, calming down. He took her suitcase gently. I thought Id finally met my end! You look as pale as a sheet.

Dad, why are you scaring me? she forced a smile. Shall we go?

Right away. Hold on to me, or the wind will blow you off! he helped her into the car, chuckling. Youre looking thin, love. Its almost as if a mother has sold you into servitude. Youre still beautiful, but you need to rest.

Sarah didnt argue. She was exhausted.

At Victors parents house the fire was warm, the food plentiful, and the atmosphere cosy. Margaret, ever the matriarch, tended to Sarah all afternoon, and by evening she felt a little stronger.

She called Victor to let him know she wasnt home, but his answer was dismissive.

What do you want? I cant bring you any medicine. Ive had a pint with dad. Its Saturday, were watching the match. Oh, Mum wants to speak to you Victor handed the phone to his mother.

Sarah! Youre a woman; you cant just lie down and let your husband starve! What matters in a family? Keeping the men fed and warm so they dont bother anyone! Shes ill, she just needs a tablet and thats it! his aunt, Karen, sneered.

Margaret, who was in the next room, overheard and snatched the phone.

My dear daughterinlaw! A man should be strong, not feeble! What do you expect?

Why do you call him weak? Hes our soninlaw! All men are like that, you know. Karen muttered, surprised at her own harshness.

Victor, how are you? Margaret asked.

Im fine. Im just picking up the kids. Whats the point of caring for your wife? Victor replied.

What nonsense! The boys are away so they wont bother you. Karen snorted. Well get the medicine for her, but shes just lazy. She forgets her husbands needs!

Victors mother stared at the silent phone, a frown deepening on her face.

Daughter, do you really need this? Youre still young! This is too much. Margaret exclaimed, visibly upset.

A text from Victor arrived later that day:

Sarah, can you send me some cash? Im short until payday. I spent it on Aarons school fees and clothes.

Sarah stared at the message, stunned.

Are you serious? Ive been paying the rent and groceries all month. Is that normal? she typed back, her fingers trembling.

Its fine. The flat is yours, isnt it? Send it now, Im heading to the shop! Victor wrote impatiently.

No money left, I spent it on medicine, Sarah replied, choosing to lie.

What do you mean, no? Your illness is costing us a fortune! Ask your parents for help, Victor demanded.

Ask your mum, Sarah shot back.

Right, she wont understand why I spent my wages, Victor replied.

I dont get it either, Sarah typed.

Im an adult man. I have my own wants and expenses. I dont have to account to you or to mum! Im at the shop now. Send the cash, will you? he wrote, his tone sharp.

I wont, Sarah replied shortly.

Victors next messages turned venomous, calling her greedy, ungrateful, a bad mother and wife. Finally, Sarah turned off the phone and told her mother:

No, Mum, Ive had enough.

All night Victor and his mother sent angry texts back and forth. Sarah muted the conversation.

On Sunday morning, as the family gathered for breakfast, Victor called again:

Sarah, Aaron and I are staying with Mum. She loves us, unlike you. She even warned me not to rush into marriage. She said, Well see what kind of mother shell become. I ignored that. Youre no mother! A cuckoo! he snapped, then hung up.

Well, isnt that lovely! his father, Ian, said, looking at Sarah. What do you think, dear?

All I see is divorce, and I dont want it, Sarah said, staring at the fluffy omelette with a sprig of parsley. She had made her decision.

Later, her father shouted as he left the house:

Ill be back for lunch, but I might be late!

Margaret, ever gentle, called Sarah:

Sweetie, take your medicine, turn the phone off and get some rest. You need to get better.

And Sarah did. It was Sunday; she had work on Monday, and a little sleep would do her good.

By lunchtime her father returned, handing her a new set of house keys.

Here, take these. You can throw away the old ones if you like, he said.

What? Sarah looked bewildered.

Ive changed the locks on your flat, collected Victors and Aarons belongings and taken them to their motherinlaw. You can stay here for a while, but dont answer the phone. Itll be safer that way, her father explained.

In the kitchen, Margaret was humming, delighted that she and her husband finally had the peace theyd longed for. Their daughterinlaw had finally taken the step she needed.

Sarah filed for divorce. The barrage of insultsstupid, ruined the family, cuckoo, ungrateful kept echoing, but she felt a strange lightness for the first time in years.

The divorce went through quickly; there were no children or joint assets to split. A year after their wedding, Victor decided it was cheaper to take his son back than to pay maintenance. He hadnt even asked Sarah for advice. Hed forgotten that a child needs clothes, school fees, and a home all of which were still under Sarahs name. Hed also forgotten his own responsibilities as a father.

The court, which Victor tried to manipulate, finally set things straight. Victor now lived with his mother, who kept a tight grip on his finances and taught him household chores. After all, three men cant manage a single household without help.

Sarah, meanwhile, was finally happy. She bought a compact car so she wouldnt be stranded in bad weather again. At twentyseven, after a painful divorce, she asked herself what to do next.

The answer was simple: love herself.

She realised that a partnership should be a partnership, not a prison. When you value yourself, you give others the chance to value you too.

*Lifes lesson*: never let anyones expectations define your worth; true strength comes from standing up for yourself, even when the world tries to silence you.