3: 3

The next moment, Boris's mother came flying at me like a hen whose nest had been raided, planting herself in front of Boris.

She jabbed a finger at my face.

"What are you shouting for? I've never said a harsh word to my son his whole life, so who do you think you are, yelling at him?"

The whole scene was so absurd that not just me, even Boris froze.

A few seconds later, he swallowed and gently pushed his mother aside.

"Mom, it's fine. Teresa." He said my name, but he didn't dare look at me.

"We never thought Buddy would die from the heat either. Why would we ever hurt him on purpose..."

I kept my eyes fixed on him. His voice grew smaller and smaller.

Boris's mother yanked him behind her again and straightened her back.

"What are you afraid of her for? Teresa, the dog's dead, so it's dead. Keeping a dog costs time and money. Isn't this better? Now you can focus and have a baby sooner."

"You're already twenty-eight. If you don't hurry up, how long do you plan to wait?"

I looked at her.

She was only fifty this year, but she looked worn down, like someone in her sixties.

The flesh on her cheeks sagged, and only her eyes held a light that wasn't like usual.

In that instant, I understood.

She'd done it on purpose.

Something cold settled over me. I stared at her.

"So you used saving on the electric bill as an excuse and let Buddy die in the heat on purpose, just because you thought keeping him would get in the way of us having children?"

Boris quickly tugged at his mother.

But she mistook my calm tone for a sign that I was backing down.

She thrust out her chest.

"And what if I did? Boris told me that dog goes through a few hundred dollars a month in food alone, and if it ever got sick, there'd be no telling how much. Besides, all day long you're holding that dog, kissing it like it's your own son. If you ask me, you don't have the slightest interest in having a baby. You're getting married next month. Don't you think it's time you settled down and acted like somebody's wife?"

I sat there on the sofa and listened to every word of it.

Then I stood up.

"Are you done?"

She lifted her chin and gave a single nod.

I turned to Boris beside her.

"Boris, I want to break up. The wedding's off."

"I'm giving you one day to move out of my home."

The color, drained white before, slowly flooded back into Boris's face.

His throat bobbed a few times, and he forced out a smile.

"Teresa, this is going too far. My mom went a little overboard, sure, but she means well for us."

I didn't budge. I repeated it.

"Move out tomorrow. Otherwise, I'm calling the police."

Boris's mother finally caught up, and her shaking finger stabbed at me as she screamed.

"You, you, you—whoever heard of throwing a husband out over one dog! And is this even your house? What right do you have to throw us out?"

I didn't waste words on her. I went to my room, unlocked the drawer, and took out the property deed.

I pointed at the owner's name, "Teresa Swanson," printed in bold, and said coldly:

"See it clearly now? I bought this house. I have every right to throw out anyone I don't want here."

"And another thing. Your son and I aren't married yet. He isn't my husband, and he doesn't deserve to be."

Before this, to protect Boris's pride,

I had never once mentioned in front of his mother that I was the one who bought the wedding home.

Boris's mother was dumbstruck. She mumbled at Boris.

"Son, this house—she really bought it?"

Boris flinched like he'd been stung. He ignored his mother and glared hard at me.

"Teresa, don't push it too far."

"I don't deserve to be your husband? I'm younger than you, I'm good-looking. Do you have any idea? My coworkers all say I'm wasting myself on a girlfriend like you."

I couldn't believe my ears.

Boris was two years younger than me. Back then, I'd agreed to be with him precisely because he seemed more mature than others his age.

After we got together, I'd asked him:

"What if people say your girlfriend's older than you? What would you do?"

He'd grinned.

"An older wife brings good fortune. Anyone who makes an issue of it is just jealous of me."

Now, he'd finally said what he really thought.

4: 4

When I first said I wanted to cancel the wedding, part of me still couldn't quite let go of these three years together.

On top of that, I'd suddenly felt unwell during this business trip.

I went to the hospital, and only then found out I was already seven weeks pregnant.

So if Boris and his mother hadn't gone too far, if they hadn't killed Buddy, I wouldn't have brought up breaking up or canceling the wedding at all.

But now, every last knot in my chest had come undone.

I looked up at Boris and said each word slowly:

"If it's a waste, then let's not keep wasting it."

"Boris, tomorrow you and your mother move out. The wedding's canceled. We each tell our own family and friends."

There was a finality in my voice I'd never had before.

Boris's pupils flickered.

Beside him, Carla suddenly dropped the bullying tone from a moment ago and shifted into an offhand, casual voice:

"Oh, come on. Every young couple squabbles. It's perfectly normal. There's no need to talk about breaking up."

She strolled over to the dinner table on her own and picked up a fork:

"Come eat. The food's getting cold."

Boris stole a glance at me, then followed her and sat down at the table too.

I laughed, furious.

I picked up my phone and made a call:

"Hello, I'd like to report a crime. Two people have forced their way into my home and refuse to leave no matter what."

At the table, both of them set down their forks at once.

Boris lunged over in one stride, and when he saw the call on my screen was to 911, he panicked.

He snatched the phone out of my hand and hung up.

His eyes were full of disbelief:

"Teresa, you, you really mean it?"

Only in that moment did he believe it.

That I really was breaking up with him, really was canceling the wedding.

Carla came over too, but she didn't believe I'd actually called the police:

"Teresa, dear, don't take this the wrong way. A woman can throw a little tantrum, that's fine, but threatening your husband with breakups and calling the cops every other minute, that's just not right."

"So the dog died. What's the big deal? Boris can just buy you another one later."

"Mom, stop talking!"

This time it was her son who cut her off.

Boris said resentfully:

"This is all your fault. You said Teresa had a temper, that we should use the dog to teach her a lesson, or she'd walk all over us once she married in."

"Well, now look. She actually called the police!"

Carla froze.

After a long moment, she mumbled:

"But I wasn't wrong, was I? You're not even married yet and she's already fighting with you, going on and on about how she earns more than you do."

"If we don't set her straight, how are you supposed to live with her later?"

My heart went cold, most of the way through.

So they really had killed Buddy on purpose.

The night before I left on my trip, Boris and I had argued, and his mother had overheard.

So she'd egged Boris on, waiting until I was away from home.

They shut Buddy out on the balcony.

In my mind, I could almost see him clawing desperately at the door.

His tongue stretched out, barking loud, doing everything he could to beg for help.

And the two people inside stayed hard as stone the whole time.

I closed my eyes, then opened them again.

Boris leaned in close to me and said, uneasy:

"Teresa, I was wrong. I shouldn't have listened to my mom and let Buddy die."

"I'll find you another one exactly like him. Just let it go, okay?"

I pulled away from the hand that was trying to reach for me.

"Do you really want me to wait for the officers to come and see you out?"

In the struggle, my handbag dropped to the floor.

Everything inside spilled out.

Carla's gaze happened to sweep across a slip of paper on the floor.

She suddenly bent down, picked it up, and looked at it again and again.

Then she straightened her back and said loudly to Boris:

"Son, don't be scared!"

"This woman can't possibly break up with you. Don't let her bluff you!"