After a long and tiring day at work, I came home exhausted, only to be surprised by the sight of six members of my husband’s family waiting for me to talk about something. Feeling helpless, I immediately went back to my parents’ house.

When I arrived home at around 7 p.m., I saw my husband sitting in the living room with my parents-in-law, cracking sunflower seeds and watching TV. The three sisters-in-law who lived nearby had also come over.

My parents-in-law are ordinary retired workers with a modest pension. My husband didn’t want to rent a place, so I had no choice but to agree with him and live together with his parents.

On the second day after our wedding, my husband immediately assigned me the task of going to the market and cooking three meals a day, saying that his mother’s health was poor and she couldn’t take care of the whole family. I thought that getting up early to prepare breakfast, making lunch for my parents-in-law, and then shopping for and cooking dinner after work wouldn’t be too difficult, so I agreed. Besides, I had loved cooking since I was little, so preparing meals didn’t seem like a big deal to me.

However, cooking for my husband’s whole family turned out to be more challenging than I had imagined, because each person had different tastes and dietary restrictions. For example, my father-in-law liked spicy food, but my mother-in-law couldn’t eat spicy food because of her stomach problems. My father-in-law preferred salty dishes, while my mother-in-law had to eat lightly seasoned food due to her high blood pressure. I had to cater to everyone’s preferences, which became quite troublesome.

What’s worth mentioning is that my job is quite stressful. Just before closing time, my boss often “piles” on tasks and demands results immediately, which means we usually have to work an extra hour to an hour and a half, about once or twice a week. Yesterday afternoon, I had to work overtime again. I was so busy that I forgot to call home, only remembering when I finally finished work.

By the time I got home, it was already 7 p.m. As I walked in, I saw my husband and my parents-in-law sitting in the living room, cracking sunflower seeds and watching TV. The three sisters-in-law who lived nearby had also come over.

As soon as she saw me, my mother-in-law frowned and said:

“Why are you only home now? Don’t you know the whole family is waiting for you to cook dinner? If you’re coming home late and can’t cook, at least order food in. Who lets the whole family just sit here waiting like this?”

One of my sisters-in-law chimed in, saying that if my boss ever asked me to work overtime again, I should refuse outright because the whole family was waiting for me to come home and cook dinner. If the boss wanted employees to work overtime, they should pay extra.

I stayed silent and went straight into the kitchen, with my husband following me. But instead of helping me prepare dinner, he came along just to criticize me further:

“A woman should put family first. No matter how successful your career is, you will eventually have to come back to your family. Cooking for the family is the most important thing.”

I was upset and snapped back:

“If family is that important, why can’t your sister cook? Before I married you, what did your family eat—fresh air?”

He replied:

“Isn’t the purpose of marrying a wife to serve her husband’s family? If not, what value does a wife have in the household?”

I couldn’t believe these words actually came out of my husband’s mouth. Feeling furious, I took off my apron, threw it onto the floor, went to our bedroom drawer, and pulled out our marriage certificate and my personal documents. Then I told him:

“Tomorrow we’re filing for divorce. Make sure you bring all your documents.”

After saying that, I stormed out the door. While I was standing there putting on my shoes, I heard my father-in-law urging my husband to chase after me. My mother-in-law, however, remained indifferent, convinced that I would never dare to go through with a divorce. But when I got down to the first floor, my husband was still nowhere to be seen. So I took a taxi straight to my parents’ house.

Seeing my dark expression when I arrived, my mother immediately guessed that my husband’s family had treated me poorly. When she learned I intended to file for divorce, she gently advised me to think it over carefully:

“I think you two should live separately. Your father and I will buy you a house. If after that, your husband still doesn’t treat you well, then it won’t be too late to divorce. After all, you don’t have children together yet, so things will be much easier.”

The next morning, while I was still hesitating about whether to file for divorce, my husband and my parents-in-law showed up at my parents’ house. My husband apologized, saying that we would move out and rent our own place. My mother-in-law also held my hand, admitted she was wrong, apologized, and promised to treat me better from then on, asking me to give my husband a chance to make things right.

After thinking for a while, I accepted their apology and went back home with them.

Not long after, my mother bought me a fully furnished apartment, with the title deed in my name only. Once we moved in, my husband even started cooking. It turned out he could actually cook quite well.

After work, we would prepare meals together. If I came home late, my husband would handle the cooking himself. After dinner, we would take walks together. On weekends, we cleaned the house side by side, went out to eat at restaurants, or traveled. Only then did I truly feel that marriage could bring me so much happiness and sweetness.