Why My Husband Wanted Her Gone
Daniel's dislike of Mrs. Lin gradually became impossible to ignore.
Whenever we discussed household arrangements, he found a way to bring up replacing her.
He would mention that she was getting older, that we should consider someone younger, or that our children needed a different kind of support.
I reminded him that Mrs. Lin had never neglected her responsibilities.
He would respond with the same vague statement.
"She shouldn't be here."
One evening, after the children had gone to bed, I finally lost patience.
"Daniel, I need you to explain something to me."
He looked up from his phone.
"What?"
"Why do you hate Mrs. Lin so much?"
His expression changed immediately.
"I don't hate her."
"Then what is it? You treat her as if she's done something terrible to you."
He placed his phone on the table.
"Can we not talk about this tonight?"
"No. We've been having this argument for years. Every time I defend her, you get angry. Every time she makes the smallest mistake, you act as though you can no longer tolerate her. She has never given us a reason to distrust her."
Daniel stood up.
"I don't want her working here anymore."
"And I want to know why."
For a moment, I thought he might finally tell me.
Instead, he looked directly at me and said, "If you care about our family, you'll stop defending her."
I felt as though he had slapped me.
"What does that mean?"
He said nothing.
"Are you accusing her of something? Has she done something to you? If so, tell me. I cannot make a fair decision when you refuse to explain yourself."
His eyes darkened.
"You don't know anything about her."
"Then tell me!"
The words escaped me louder than I intended.
We stood facing each other in the living room, both breathing heavily.
Finally, Daniel turned away.
"Some things are better left alone."
He walked upstairs.
I remained where I was, feeling more confused than ever.
For the first time, I wondered whether Mrs. Lin had a connection to my husband that I knew nothing about.
Perhaps they had met before she came to work for us.
Perhaps she had done something that had hurt him.
But what could possibly have happened between them?
I considered asking Mrs. Lin directly, yet something stopped me. I did not want to force her to reveal a painful secret, especially if it had nothing to do with me.
Instead, I continued protecting her whenever Daniel became unreasonable.
I did not realize that my attempts to defend her were making the situation even more unbearable for both of them.
Mrs. Lin was caught between a son who could not bear to acknowledge her and a daughter-in-law who treated her with affection without knowing who she really was.
And Daniel, despite all his anger, could not bring himself to tell me why.
The Morning She Disappeared
The day Mrs. Lin left began like any other.
I woke up a little after six, expecting to smell the breakfast she usually prepared before the children got out of bed.
But the house was unusually quiet.
There was no sound of dishes in the kitchen, no gentle humming from the hallway, and no familiar footsteps outside the children's bedrooms.
At first, I assumed she had gone to the market early.
I washed my face, changed my clothes, and went downstairs.
The kitchen was empty.
The breakfast table had not been set.
A small pot of water sat on the stove, but nothing else had been prepared.
I called her name.
"Mrs. Lin?"
No answer.
I walked toward her room and knocked on the door.
It was open.
The room looked strangely bare.
Her clothes were gone from the small wardrobe. The few personal items she kept on the bedside table had disappeared. Even the old slippers she wore around the house were missing.
For a moment, I simply stood there.
Then my phone vibrated.
It was a message from her.
Madam, I have returned to my hometown. I am sorry for leaving so suddenly. I will no longer be able to work for your family. Please take good care of yourself and the children. Thank you for treating me kindly over the years. I will always remember your kindness.
I read the message twice.
Then I called her.
The phone rang several times before the call was rejected.
I tried again.
This time, the phone was switched off.
I stared at the screen, unable to understand what had happened.
Mrs. Lin had never left without telling us where she was going. Even when she took a few days off to visit her hometown, she always informed me well in advance.
She had not mentioned resigning.
She had not said goodbye to the children.
She had not even waited for me to wake up.
It felt as though someone had quietly removed a member of our family while we were asleep.
I immediately went upstairs to find Daniel.
He was already dressed for work.
"Mrs. Lin has left."
He paused while adjusting his watch.
"What do you mean?"
"She went back to her hometown. She sent me a message saying she won't be coming back."
He lowered his eyes.
For a fraction of a second, I thought I saw relief on his face.
Then it disappeared.
"Perhaps she found another job."
"She didn't say anything about another job. She just left."
Daniel picked up his briefcase.
"People leave jobs all the time."
I stared at him.
"After five years? Without even saying goodbye?"
He did not answer.
I stepped closer.
"Did you have another argument with her?"
"No."
"Did you tell her to leave?"
He looked at me sharply.
"I didn't tell her anything."
His answer was so quick that I became suspicious.
"Daniel, please. I know how you've treated her. If something happened yesterday, you need to tell me."
"Nothing happened."
He walked past me and headed downstairs.
A few minutes later, I heard the front door close.
I stood alone in the hallway, staring at the empty space where Mrs. Lin's room began.
I had never imagined that I would miss someone so intensely after she had been absent for only a few hours.
The children were devastated when they learned she was gone.
Sophie cried and asked whether Mrs. Lin had left because she had been naughty.
Ethan became unusually quiet.
I hugged them both and assured them that they had done nothing wrong.
But I could not answer their questions.
I did not know why Mrs. Lin had left.
I did not know whether she was safe.
And I did not know why my husband seemed determined to pretend that her departure meant nothing.
That afternoon, I decided to clean her room myself.
I thought it might help me feel less helpless.
I was not prepared for what I would find.