Part 1:

My husband was demoted.

My mother-in-law kicked me out of my husband’s house simply because she considered me useless and a burden.

Even my own husband was cruel enough to let his mother throw all my belongings into the yard.

The two plastic bags my father had given me were thrown onto the ground as well.

But when one of them tore and its contents scattered, the mother-in-law who had just insulted me suddenly turned pale and began trembling.

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My name is Gisel.

I am the only child of a building-materials businessman who is fairly well known in Surabaya.

My father, Mr.

Saidi, started his business completely from scratch.

Before he owned a large building-materials store like the one he has now, my father sold building supplies only in small quantities.

There was even a time when he had to deliver customers’ orders himself in a modest vehicle.

Thanks to decades of hard work, our family’s life finally changed.

My father now has a fairly large business and can enjoy the fruits of his labor.

However, one thing that never changed was the way my father raised me.

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Part 2:
Since childhood, I had never been accustomed to living extravagantly.

My father never bought me things just to make us look wealthy.

If I needed something, he would try to provide it.

But if it was merely something I wanted, he always taught me to think first.

My mother, Burnata, also always reminded me not to look down on other people simply because of their financial circumstances.

That was why, even though my family was comfortable, I never felt the need to tell anyone about my father’s wealth.

Before I got married, my father had actually prepared a luxurious house for me.

It was in a fairly quiet neighborhood, with a spacious yard, a high fence, and several rooms that had already been furnished.

He said that house would be a place I could return to whenever I needed it.

However, after marrying Robi, I chose to live with my husband and both my parents-in-law, Mrs.

Titik and Mr.

Jatmiko.

The reason was simple: Robi’s workplace was quite far from the house my father had given me.

If we lived there, his daily commute would take longer.

At first, my father suggested that we still live in that house.

But because I wanted to be a good wife and did not want to make things difficult for my husband, I eventually decided to go with Robi.

At the time, I truly believed that as long as we loved each other, living in a modest house would not be a problem.

At the beginning of our marriage, Mrs.

Titik actually treated me quite well.

She often invited me to cook with her, occasionally bought my favorite food, and even called me her own child.

I tried to return her kindness.

Every morning, I woke up early to prepare breakfast.

After Robi left for work, I cleaned the house, washed the clothes, swept the yard, and prepared lunch.

I never minded doing any of it.

To me, as long as I was part of the family, it was only natural that I should help.

However, as we entered the 11th month of our marriage, something began to change.

Mrs.

Titik, who had rarely discussed my family before, suddenly started asking about my father’s work frequently.

At first, I thought they were ordinary questions.

One afternoon, while I was sitting in the dining room, Mrs.

Titik suddenly approached me.
“Gisel, your father still owns that large building-materials store in Surabaya, doesn’t he?”
I nodded with a smile.
“He does, Mom.

Why?”
Mrs.

Titi then sat in the chair beside me.
“If you don’t mind my asking, how much does your father earn each month now?”
I was a little surprised.

Honestly, I had never discussed my father’s income with anyone, not even Robi.

I simply answered that his business was doing fairly well and that he was no longer as busy as he used to be.

Hearing my answer, Mrs.

Titik gave a faint smile.

Then she said something that left me silent.
“In that case, your father should be able to help the family here a little.

This house hasn’t been renovated in a long time.

Try talking to your father later.

Ask him for a little help to make this house more comfortable.

After all, you live here now.

We want to feel comfortable having you here, too.”
For a moment, I thought Mrs.

Titik was joking.

I even tried to laugh softly to lighten the mood.

But there was no sign of a joke on her face.

I only replied quietly that I would mention it to my father.

From that moment on, questions about my father’s income came up more and more often.

Sometimes Mrs.

Titik asked whether he still owned many stores.

Sometimes she asked whether he had bought a new vehicle.

She even once asked why he never gave my husband’s family a monthly allowance.

I began to feel uncomfortable.

However, I chose to stay quiet because I did not want a small issue to turn into a major argument.

Until one night, while I was organizing clothes in our bedroom, Robi suddenly said something that confused me even more.
“Gisel, tomorrow, if your father calls, try asking him about helping with the house renovation, okay?

Mom wants to repair a few parts of the house.”
I looked at Robi.
“Honey, why does it have to be my father?

Isn’t this house our shared responsibility?”
Robi sighed.
“Yes, I know.

But our finances aren’t very good yet, either.

Your father can afford it.

What’s wrong with helping a little?”
I did not answer immediately.

It was not because I did not want to help, but because something felt wrong about my family beginning to be treated as a source of money to fulfill my husband’s family’s wishes.

Especially since I had never asked them to pay for my needs.

I was still trying to calm myself when Mrs.

Titik suddenly appeared in the open bedroom doorway.

Apparently, she had heard our conversation.

With an expressionless face, she said that a good daughter-in-law should know her place and not merely enjoy the comforts of someone else’s home.

Those words made my chest tighten.

I lowered my head, trying to keep my tears from falling in front of them.

That night, I slept with my back to Robi, hoping my husband would realize that his mother’s words had hurt me.

Instead, Robi pulled up the blanket and said I was too sensitive.

I did not want to prolong the problem.

I simply closed my eyes and remembered my father’s advice before my wedding.

He had once said that being a good wife did not mean allowing myself to be belittled.

At the time, I had not fully understood what he meant.

Until a few days later, when something happened that made me realize Mrs.

Titik’s remarks were not merely about renovating the house.

That morning, while I was preparing breakfast, Mrs.

Titik received a phone call.

At first, she spoke normally, but after hanging up, she came straight over to me.

With a serious expression, she said there was something she wanted to discuss about my family.

And when I heard her next words, the hand holding my plate stopped moving.

It turned out that Mrs.

Titik had begun talking about the inheritance from my father that I had never even told her about.

That morning, I was still thinking about Mrs.

Titik’s words regarding my father’s inheritance.

Ever since hearing them, I had felt unsettled.

I felt that something was being hidden from me.

However, I tried to ignore that feeling and continued doing the housework as usual.

Around 9 in the morning, Mrs.

Titik called me from the living room.
“Gisel, come here for a moment.

There’s something I want to discuss.”
I went over immediately.

Mrs.

Titik was sitting with Mr.

Jatmiko, holding several sheets of paper.

On the table were notes about the cost of renovating the house.

She told me to sit down, then began explaining that the roof at the back of the house was leaking.

The bathroom needed repairs, and some furniture needed to be replaced.

At first, I listened attentively, but the longer she spoke, the more the conversation seemed directed at me.
“I’ve calculated everything.

The renovation will cost quite a bit.

But rather than let this house deteriorate further, it would be better to repair it immediately.”
I nodded slowly.

Then Mrs.

Titik said she hoped my father could help pay for the renovation.

I tried to answer carefully.
“Mom, if this house really needs repairs, it would be better to discuss it with Robi first.

I don’t feel comfortable asking my father for money for this house.”
Hearing my answer, Mrs.

Titik’s expression immediately changed.
“What do you mean, you don’t feel comfortable?

You’re part of our family now.

Would your own father really refuse to help his daughter?”
I fell silent.

Mr.

Jatmiko, who had been reading the newspaper, merely glanced up before returning to his silence.

Mrs.

Titi then said she was not asking for anything excessive.

She only wanted a decent, comfortable house.

I wanted to explain that it was not a matter of my father being unable to help.

However, I also did not want asking our parents for money to become a habit everyone considered normal.

In the end, I chose to end the conversation by asking for time to think about it.

Unfortunately, my silence was taken as a refusal.

From that day on, Mrs.

Titik began treating me differently.

Whenever a dish did not quite suit her taste, she remarked that a daughter-in-law who brought no money should at least know how to please the family.

When I bought personal necessities with my own savings, she asked where I had gotten the money.

One afternoon, just after I had finished ironing, Mrs.

Titik placed some clothes belonging to Robi’s relatives on top of the basket.

She said I had to wash those, too, because they would be visiting over the weekend.

I did not mind helping.

What hurt me was the way she spoke.
“Gisel, instead of just sitting around, you should do something useful.

Everyone in this house has things to do.

Don’t become someone we have to support.”
I took a deep breath, even though I had not had a chance to sit down and rest since morning.

My arms still ached from lifting several buckets of laundry.

I simply said yes, then took the clothes to the bathroom.

That afternoon, I tried calling Mrs.

Renata.

I did not tell her everything.

I only said that the atmosphere in the house had felt uncomfortable lately.

My mother immediately knew I was holding something back.
“My child, if there’s a problem, don’t always keep it to yourself.

Your father and I have never considered you a burden.”
Hearing my mother’s voice, my eyes began to fill with tears.

I wanted so badly to tell her everything.

However, I was afraid of burdening my father.

I also still hoped Robi could make his mother understand.

Unfortunately, that hope only grew more distant.

A few days later, Mrs.

Titik hosted a meal for her extended family.

I had been cooking since morning so all the guests could enjoy the food.

During the gathering, one of Robi’s relatives asked about my father’s work.

Before I could answer, Mrs.

Titik interrupted.
“Oh, Gisel’s father does have a building-materials business.

They say it’s large, but I don’t know how large it really is.

The fact is, he still hasn’t helped renovate this house.”
Several people immediately exchanged glances.

As I poured drinks, I felt my face grow hot.

The embarrassment was difficult to explain.

Not because I was ashamed of my family’s circumstances, but because Mrs.

Titik was deliberately discussing private matters in front of so many people.

One of the guests then asked whether my father really was unwilling to help.

I tried to smile.
“My father has never actually minded helping me.

It’s just that matters concerning this house should be discussed by Robi and his parents.”
However, Mrs.

Titik immediately gave a small laugh.
“That’s the problem.

Once you’re married, you shouldn’t put everything on your husband.

If you have rich parents, you should make use of them.”
I was completely at a loss for words.

What hurt most was that when Robi came up from behind and heard the conversation, I briefly hoped my husband would defend me.

Instead, he said, “Enough, Gisel.

Don’t make things uncomfortable.

Mom is just telling it like it is.”
I lowered my head.

That day, I felt like a stranger among my own family.

After all the guests had left, I went into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed.

My tears finally fell.

I had never asked for a luxurious house.

I had never demanded that Robi buy me expensive things.

All I had ever wanted was to live peacefully and be valued as his wife.

Yet my simplicity had apparently made them think they could treat my family however they pleased.

It was getting late when Robi entered the bedroom.

He saw me still sitting there with swollen eyes.

Instead of asking how I was, he said I should start thinking about ways to help with the household finances.

I looked at him for a long time.
“Honey, I know I haven’t brought in money to pay for household expenses.

But does that mean I haven’t done anything?

Who prepares the food every day?

Who cleans the house?

Who makes sure you have everything you need?”
Robi fell silent briefly.

However, his answer hurt me even more.

“That’s a wife’s job, Gisel.

Don’t think you’ve done something extraordinary just because you take care of the house.”
I did not answer.

For the first time, I felt that my husband no longer saw me as his life partner.

He only saw me as someone who had to keep fulfilling his family’s wishes.

I then picked up my phone and opened a photograph of the house I was to inherit from my father.

The house I had deliberately left behind to make Robi’s working life easier.

I looked at that photograph for a long time.

I felt regret because I had once been so afraid of being seen as a wife who was unwilling to make sacrifices.

But before I could think everything through, I heard Mrs.

Titik talking to someone on the phone outside our bedroom.

I happened to hear my name.
“Yes.

If Robi can’t manage anymore, it would be better for them to separate than for him to keep supporting a woman who brings nothing.”
I froze.

But a few seconds later, Mrs.

Titik said something else that made my heart beat faster.
“They say Gisel’s father has a luxurious house prepared for his daughter.

If they really separate, we have to make sure Gisel doesn’t use that house as a reason to feel superior to this family.”
I covered my mouth with my hand.

It turned out that my father’s money was not the only thing they had been after.

They had even begun thinking about the house that was rightfully mine.

And what hurt even more was that I did not yet know Mrs.

Titik had already had that conversation with Robi before.

That night, I began to realize that the problems in my marriage were far greater than a request for renovation money.

Since the night I overheard Mrs.

Titik’s conversation, my mind had never truly been at peace.

I began paying attention to Robi’s behavior.

Something about my husband was different.

He came home late more often, became easily irritated, and almost never had heartfelt conversations with me anymore.

At first, I thought Robi was simply tired from work.

I tried to understand his situation because I knew earning a living was not easy.

However, one morning, Robi came home earlier than usual.

He looked troubled.

He put his work bag on the sofa, then sat down with his head in his hands.

I approached him and offered him a glass of water.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
Robi let out a long sigh.
“The company is cutting expenses.

Several departments have been affected, including mine.

Even my salary this month is uncertain.”
I fell silent.

Of course, I was worried, too.

Robi had been the main source of income for our little family.

I knew the news must have weighed heavily on him.

I tried to reassure him.
“It’s all right, honey.

We’ll face it one step at a time.

If things are difficult, we can reduce our expenses for now.

What matters is that you stay healthy.”
Robi merely nodded without saying much.

However, Mrs.

Titik apparently learned the news quickly.

From then on, the atmosphere in the house became even more uncomfortable.

Mrs.

Titik began calculating our daily expenses.

Even the grocery money usually given to me was reduced.

I did not complain.

I tried to make our groceries stretch as far as possible.

Whereas I usually cooked several dishes, now I made just one main dish and vegetables.

I also began postponing purchases for my personal needs, but my sacrifices seemed to go unnoticed.

One afternoon, while I was hanging clothes to dry, Mrs.

Titik approached me with an annoyed expression.
“Gisel, you know Robi is having a hard time.

You should be helping.

Don’t just sit around waiting for your husband to come home with money.”
I turned toward her.
“Mom, I’ve been trying to reduce our expenses, too.

I’ve even stopped buying some of my own necessities.”
Mrs.

Titik laughed sarcastically.
“Saving money isn’t enough.

You have a father who’s supposedly wealthy.

Why don’t you ever ask him for help?

Are you deliberately letting Robi struggle?”
I tried to control my emotions.
“I don’t want every problem in our marriage to be solved by asking my parents for money, Mom.”
Mrs.

Titik’s expression immediately changed.
“In that case, don’t blame anyone if your life is difficult.

Marriage means helping each other.

Don’t become nothing but a burden to your husband.”
I did not answer again.

Day after day, the pressure grew heavier.

Robi, who had usually still been willing to listen to me, now spent more of his time with his mother.

Even when I asked for a little money to buy medicine because I was feeling unwell, Robi complained that our financial situation did not allow it.

In the end, I used my own savings.

I had never asked for anything excessive.

I only wanted to feel that someone still cared when I was not all right.

But the most painful incident happened one night.

While clearing the dining table, I heard Mrs.

Titik speaking with Robi in the living room.

At first, I had no intention of eavesdropping, but when I heard my name, I stopped walking.
“I’ve told you from the beginning, a woman who has no income of her own will only make a man’s life harder.

Look at you now.

You’re struggling yourself, and you still have to think about a wife who can’t help with anything.”
Robi answered quietly.
“I’m overwhelmed, too, Mom.

My salary is uncertain.

I don’t even know whether I’ll still have a job next month.”
Mrs.

Titi then spoke in a sharper tone.
“In that case, what’s the point of keeping a marriage like this?

You’re still young.

You can still find a woman who can help you more in life.

Don’t let your future go to waste just because you insist on staying with Gisel.”
I felt as though my chest were being squeezed.

I waited for Robi to contradict his mother.

Instead, I heard an answer that made my knees weak.
“I’ve been thinking about that, too, Mom.

If things don’t change, maybe it would be better for us to separate.”
I immediately backed away slowly.

My hands were trembling.

I even had to hold on to the wall to keep from falling.

All this time, I had still been trying to believe that Robi was merely under pressure.

I thought that when things improved, my husband would become the man he used to be.

It turned out that while I was trying to preserve our marriage, he was thinking about how to end it.

That night, I did not go straight into the bedroom.

I sat alone on the back porch.

The night air was cold, but my thoughts felt much colder.

I opened my phone and looked at our wedding photograph.

In it, Robi was smiling while holding my hand.

I still remembered his promise in front of our families that he would always protect me.

Now, it was as though that promise had never existed.

I cried silently.

Not because I was afraid of losing a house or a comfortable life, but because the person I trusted most could give up so easily when things became difficult.

The following morning, I tried to talk to Robi.
“Honey, is it true that you want us to separate?”
Robi remained silent for a long time.

He did not answer immediately, but the way he avoided my gaze was enough for me to understand.

I then asked whether he had really considered me a burden all this time.

Robi rubbed his face.
“I don’t know what to do, Gisel.

I’m struggling.

Mom keeps thinking about my future, too.

I can’t go on like this.”
I nodded slowly.

Then I asked the one question that had been weighing on my mind.
“If your financial situation improves one day, will you consider me a burden?”
Robi did not answer.

I finally went into the bedroom and closed the door.

That day, I no longer expected much from my husband.

I began to understand that love alone was not enough if someone did not have the courage to value their partner.

Toward the afternoon, I picked up my phone and called my father.

As soon as I heard Mr.

Saidi’s voice, my defenses crumbled.
“Dad, Gisel is tired.

I’ve tried to be a good wife, but it seems Robi’s family has never considered me one of them.”
My father did not interrupt.

He let me cry and tell him everything until I was finished.

After a while, he finally spoke.
“My child, I have never taught you to repay someone’s cruelty with cruelty.

But I never raised you to let other people trample on your dignity, either.”
I cried again.

My father then asked whether I was still living at Robi’s house and whether I already had the two plastic bags he had previously prepared for me.

I was a little confused by the question.
“Yes, Dad.

I’m still keeping them.”
My father answered briefly.
“Good.

Don’t lose them.

Keep them safe.

Tomorrow or the day after, I’ll come to see you.”
I wanted to ask what he was actually planning.

However, he only asked me to remain calm and not tell anyone about his visit.

Before hanging up, my father said one sentence that left me silent for a long time.
“Gisel, I want to see for myself how the people you’ve been calling your family treat my daughter.”
I stared at my phone’s dark screen.

At that moment, I did not know what my father would do, but I began to feel that his arrival would be more than an ordinary visit.

And without my knowledge, Mrs.

Titik had already prepared a far crueler decision for me.

She even planned to make me leave the house before my father had a chance to come.

That morning, I woke up feeling uneasy.

Since the previous night, my thoughts had kept returning to my father’s words.

He had promised to come, but he had not explained what he actually intended to do.

I briefly wanted to call him again, but I changed my mind.

I did not want to make him worry even more.

Around 10 in the morning, while I was sweeping the yard, I suddenly heard a vehicle stop in front of the house.

I turned toward the gate.

An old, dark-colored pickup truck was parked by the roadside.

The paint on its cargo bed had faded.

Parts of the body were rusty, and its engine sounded rough.

I frowned briefly because I did not recognize the vehicle.

But when the door opened, my heart immediately began beating faster.

It was my father who stepped out.

I quickly put down the broom and went over to him.
“Dad, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?

I could have met you out front.”

My father simply smiled.
“I wanted to stop by for a moment.

Are you well, my child?”
I nodded, then helped him take something from the cargo bed.

There was a large black plastic bag inside.

It looked quite full.

Even the bottom of the plastic bulged under its weight.

I asked what was in the bag.

My father only answered that it was something he had brought for me.

Before I could ask anything further, Mrs.

Titik appeared in the front doorway.
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She studied my father’s pickup truck for a long time.

Her gaze then moved to his simple clothes.

With a faint smile, she greeted him.
“Oh, Mr.

Saidi.

What an unexpected visit.

You’re driving a pickup like this now?”
My father returned her greeting warmly.
“Yes, ma’am.

I just happened to feel like using this vehicle.”
Mrs.

Titik gave a small laugh.
“Oh, I see.

I thought all your cars had broken down.

After all, you supposedly had a large business.”
Hearing those words immediately made me uncomfortable.

However, my father showed no anger at all.

He merely smiled and asked permission to come inside briefly to see me.

When we were in the living room, Mrs.

Titik brought up the family’s financial situation again.

She said Robi was experiencing difficulties at work.

Because of that, she hoped our family could help ease the household’s burden a little.

My father listened calmly.

Then he said that their children’s marital matters should be resolved through mutual respect, not by burdening one another.

Mrs.

Titik did not answer.

She only gave a stiff smile.

Before leaving, my father handed me the black plastic bag.
“My child, keep this safe.

Don’t let it be thrown away or lost.

I brought it especially for you.”
I accepted the bag with both hands.

Its weight surprised me a little.

I asked whether I could open it now.

My father slowly shook his head.
“Later.

Keep it somewhere safe.

The time will come when you understand why I gave you this.”
I nodded, although I was still curious.

After my father said goodbye, Mrs.

Titik immediately glanced at the bag.

She even asked mockingly whether my father had only given me old clothes or things he no longer used.

I chose not to respond.

I took the bag into the bedroom and stored it at the bottom of the wardrobe.

I did not want anyone touching it carelessly.

However, Mrs.

Titik apparently was not satisfied.

That afternoon, she deliberately came over while I was folding clothes.
“Gisel, your father is actually having financial problems, isn’t he?”
I turned toward her in surprise.
“Why are you asking that, Mom?”
Mrs.

Titik answered that truly wealthy people did not usually arrive in old vehicles carrying things in plastic bags.

I stayed silent.

She then said I should not put too much faith in stories about my father’s wealth.

According to her, his business might no longer be as large as I had imagined.

I began to feel irritated, but I still tried to remain respectful.
“Mom, my father doesn’t like showing off what he has.

But that doesn’t mean he’s struggling.”
Mrs.

Titik immediately snorted.
“All right.

I’m only reminding you.

Don’t end up having to bear your own parents’ hardships, too.”
I went back to folding clothes without answering.

The next morning, something I had never expected happened.

At 11, I was in the kitchen when I heard a vehicle stop in front of the house.

This time, it was not a pickup truck.

I went outside and saw my father standing beside an old Tosa motorbike.

At the back was a large white plastic bag.

I immediately approached him.
“Dad, why are you here again?

You were just here yesterday.”
My father smiled as he lifted the bag.
“There’s one more for you, my child.

This one is heavier than yesterday’s.

Keep it with the other thing I gave you.”
I accepted the bag, feeling even more curious.

Mrs.

Titik, who had seen my father arrive through the window, immediately came outside.

This time, she did not even try to hide her surprise.
“Mr.

Saidi, yesterday you came in a pickup, and now you’re riding a Tosa.

What’s actually going on?

Why are the vehicles you use becoming more modest every day?”
My father simply smiled.
“Nothing’s wrong, ma’am.

I just feel like using this vehicle.”
Mrs.

Titik laughed softly, then whispered loudly enough for me to hear.
“They say he’s a big businessman, but now he looks like he’s struggling.”
I lowered my head.

I wanted so badly to defend my father, but he signaled for me not to respond.

Before leaving, my father reminded me again to take care of the two plastic bags.

Then he held my shoulder and spoke softly.
“My child, never measure someone’s love by what you can see.

Sometimes the most unassuming person holds something others would never imagine.”
I nodded, holding back tears.

After my father left, Mrs.

Titik approached me and looked at the two bags I was carrying.

She smiled sarcastically.
“Gisel, I hope you aren’t expecting too much from your father’s gifts.

For all you know, they’re full of useless things.”
I did not reply.

However, just as I was about to take the bags into the bedroom, Mrs.

Titik suddenly said something that stopped me.
“Tonight, Robi wants to discuss the future of his marriage.

I think you should prepare yourself to accept a decision you may not like.”
I turned around.

Before I could ask what she meant, Mrs.

Titik had already walked away.

I stood there for a long time, holding the two bags my father had given me.

For some reason, my instincts told me that his two visits were no coincidence.

That night, the atmosphere in the house felt different.

Since the afternoon, Mrs.

Titik had paced back and forth in the living room several times.

Meanwhile, Robi simply sat playing with his phone.

No one invited me to eat dinner with them as they usually did.

I could already guess that something was going to happen.

However, I was still trying to think positively.

After all, Robi was my husband.

I still hoped he had a little courage to discuss our marital problems properly.

That evening, Mrs.

Titik called me into the living room.

Robi and Mr.

Jatmiko were already there.

Their faces looked serious.

Robi did not even dare look at me when I sat down in front of them.

Mrs.

Titik immediately began the conversation.
“Gisel, I think this has gone on long enough.

We’ve tried to accept you, but your marriage is becoming increasingly uncertain.

Robi is struggling to earn a living, while you can’t help with anything.”
I looked at Robi.
“Honey, what exactly do you want to discuss?”
Robi rubbed his face before finally answering.
“Gisel, I think we really need to make a decision.

I can’t keep living like this.”
I fell silent.
“What do you mean?”
Robi took a long breath.
“Maybe it would be better for us to separate.”
Even though I had suspected it, hearing it directly from my husband’s mouth still felt like being slapped.

I tried to ask for an explanation.

I asked whether there was another woman or whether I had done something so terribly wrong that he wanted to end our marriage.

However, Robi only said that he wanted a more peaceful life.

Mrs.

Titik immediately interrupted.
“Don’t make this complicated, Gisel.

You need to know your place, too.

Instead of continuing to make Robi’s life difficult, you should go back to your parents’ house.

Your father is supposedly wealthy.

Surely he can still take care of his own daughter.”
I held back tears.

I then looked at Mr.

Jatmo, hoping he would at least say something, but my father-in-law only sat silently.

Even when I asked whether he agreed with the decision, he merely lowered his head.

Finally, I stood up.
“If that’s Robi’s decision, I won’t force him to stay in this marriage.

But I want to collect my belongings myself.

Please don’t throw away or damage anything my parents gave me.”
Mrs.

Titik immediately answered sharply.
“You don’t need to tell us what to do.

This is our house.

You only live here.”
I went into the bedroom and began packing my clothes.

My hands trembled as I folded, one by one, the garments I had kept in the wardrobe.

There were a few small things with special memories: our wedding photograph, a birthday gift from my father, and a shawl my mother had given me.

I carefully placed them in my suitcase.

However, when I was about to retrieve the two bags my father had given me from the bottom of the wardrobe, Mrs.

Titik suddenly entered without knocking.
“What else are you taking?”
I answered that they were things my father had given me and that I had to take them home.

Mrs.

Titik laughed sarcastically.

“You guard those plastic bags as though they’re something valuable.

What’s inside them, anyway?

Garbage from your father’s house?”
I did not answer.

I simply lifted both bags.

However, Mrs.

Titik suddenly snatched one of them.
“Just put it down.

Don’t fill this house with useless things.”
[music]
Instinctively, I grabbed the edge of the plastic.
“Mom, please don’t take it.

My father told me to look after it.”
Mrs.

Titik pulled harder.
“You’re already leaving, aren’t you?

Yet you’re still causing trouble.”
Hearing the commotion, Robi came into the bedroom.

I hoped he would help stop his mother.

Instead, my husband told me not to make a scene.

I finally let go.

I managed to retrieve both bags.

But deep inside, my heart was completely broken by the sight of Robi doing nothing.

Not long afterward, Mrs.

Titik told me to leave immediately.

She even asked Robi to help remove all my belongings so nothing would be left behind.

My suitcase was pushed out onto the porch.

Some clothes I had not yet had a chance to fold were thrown into the yard.

A framed wedding photograph fell, and its glass shattered.

I crouched down to pick it up.

In that photograph, Robi and I were smiling happily.

I brushed my hand over my husband’s face in the picture before finally putting it in my bag.

Before I had finished gathering my belongings, Mrs.

Titik picked up the two bags my father had given me from beside the suitcase.
“Here, take these with you, too.

Don’t come back tomorrow just to collect this garbage.”
Before I could reach for them, she threw both bags onto the ground.

The black bag landed hard enough for its bottom to tear.

Several hard objects spilled out and rolled across the courtyard floor.

I froze.

Under the porch light, I could see several shiny yellow objects.

I crouched down and tried to look more closely.

Mrs.

Titik, who had still been wearing a mocking expression, suddenly stopped moving.

Meanwhile, the white bag began opening after catching on the edge of the suitcase.

Through the opening, several sheets of differently colored paper were visible.

Before I could understand what was happening, Mrs.

Titik suddenly shouted for Robi.
“Robi, come look at this!”
I looked from one face to the other.

A few seconds earlier, I had been regarded as a poor, useless daughter-in-law.

Now the people who had thrown me out stood frozen, staring at the contents of my father’s gifts.

And when Mrs.

Titik bent down to pick up one of the gleaming objects, her hands began trembling violently.

She looked at it, then looked at me with a pale face.

I still did not know the full value of my father’s gifts.

However, seeing their expressions change, I began to realize that the two bags they had mocked were no ordinary belongings.

And when the second bag finally opened completely, Mrs.

Titik stepped backward several paces, covering her mouth.

I was still standing in the yard with mixed feelings.

In front of me, Mrs.

Titik was bent over, holding one of the pieces of gold that had spilled from the black bag.

At first, she only stared at it.

However, after turning it over several times, her expression began to change.

Robi, who was standing not far from his mother, came closer.
“Mom, what is that?”
Mrs.

Titik did not answer immediately.

Instead, she picked up several other pieces scattered across the ground.

Her hands began trembling.

I still did not fully understand what was happening.

I only remembered my father’s instructions to take good care of the two bags.

Suddenly, Mrs.

Titik turned toward me.
“Gisel, where did this gold come from?”
I looked at her without answering.
“It was a gift from my father, Mom.”
Mrs.

Titi looked again at the piece of gold in her hand.
[music]
Then she asked Robi to fetch the small scale they usually used to weigh things at home.

After a while, they began to realize that these were not ordinary pieces of jewelry.

Some were small gold bars, along with several gold pieces my father had kept as personal assets.

Their value in rupiah came to approximately 5 billion.

Mrs.

Titik immediately sank into a chair on the porch.
“5 billion.”
Her voice was barely audible.

I nodded.
“My father gave me part of his gold assets.”
Robi immediately stared at me with wide eyes.
“Why did you never tell me your father had this much gold?”
I almost smiled at the question.
“Honey, all this time, none of you ever asked whether I had anything put aside.

You were only busy asking what my father could give this family.”
Robi fell silent.

However, the surprise was not over.

The white bag that had also been thrown was still lying near my feet.

Its bottom had opened quite widely.

I crouched down and began collecting its contents.

Several American dollar bills were scattered around.

Mr.

Jatmiko, who had remained silent, finally came closer.

He picked up one of the bills, examined it, then called Robi.
“Robi, look at this.

Dollar bills.”
Mrs.

Titik immediately stood up again.

She no longer even paid attention to the pieces of gold still scattered around.

Her attention was entirely fixed on the second bag.

I helped remove all its contents so no bills would be left on the ground.

Inside were stacks of American dollars, neatly arranged in several bundles.

I then remembered that my father had said the second bag was heavier than the first.

After checking all the money, I learned that the total came to 600,000 U.S. dollars.

Converted into rupiah at the estimated exchange rate at the time, it amounted to approximately Rp billion.

Thus, the total value of my father’s gifts to me came to approximately Rp16 billion.

Mrs.

Titik immediately grabbed my arm.
“Gisel, my child.

Why didn’t you tell us from the beginning that your father had given you all this?”
I looked at her hand gripping my arm.

Something about it hurt terribly.

A few minutes earlier, the same woman had thrown my father’s gifts onto the ground while calling them garbage.

Now, after learning their value, she addressed me gently, as though nothing had happened.

I slowly removed her hand.
“Mom, didn’t you just tell me to leave?

Why are you asking me to come back now?”
Mrs.

Titik looked confused.

She tried to smile, then said she had merely gotten carried away by her emotions.

She claimed she had never truly intended to throw me out.

She even began gathering my scattered clothes.

Robi approached as well.
“Gisel, come on.

Don’t leave yet.

Let’s talk about this calmly.

I admit I was wrong earlier.”
I looked at my husband’s face.
“Honey, earlier, when I asked you to defend me, you stayed silent.

When my belongings were being thrown out, you stayed silent, too.

Now that you’ve seen what’s inside these two bags, you finally want to talk calmly.”
Robi lowered his head.

Mrs.

Titik grew increasingly panicked when she saw me begin putting the gold and dollars into my bag.

She even offered to let me live in the house again.

She said the house renovation could be canceled and that we could start everything over.

However, I was no longer interested in hearing any promises.

I picked up my phone and booked a car to collect me.

Mrs.

Titik immediately stood in front of the gate.
“Gisel, don’t be like this.

I’m sorry.

If you want, we can discuss your marriage later.

Don’t be so quick to leave.”
I only answered softly.
“I’m sorry, Mom.

I’ve spent too long trying to hold on.”
Not long afterward, the car I had booked arrived.

I put my belongings in the trunk, made sure both bags my father had given me were safely stored, then sat in the back seat.

Before the car moved, I saw Robi standing near the front door.

His face was filled with regret, but I no longer had any desire to get out and go to him.

Throughout the journey, I simply watched the road while holding my phone.

Then I called my father.
“Dad, Gisel has brought everything.”
My father answered calmly.
“Good, my child.

Now go home to your house.

I’ve asked the caretaker to prepare everything.”
I fell silent at those words.

It turned out that my father had anticipated that one day I would need a place to return to.

And that night, for the first time in a long time, I was no longer afraid of losing a marriage that had never truly protected me.

However, I did not yet know that my departure that night would cause Robi’s family to do something far more surprising the next day.

It turned out they did not merely regret their actions after seeing what was inside those two bags.

They also began looking into the house from my father that I had left behind for Robi.

The journey to that house felt so long, even though it was not very far away.

Throughout the trip, I mostly looked out the car window.

The scenery outside kept changing, but my mind was still filled with what had happened a few hours earlier.

It was not because I was afraid of losing Robi, nor because I regretted leaving that house.

What made my chest ache was the realization that all this time, the Gisel they had treated as worthless had only been trying to preserve a marriage.

When we reached a large house, the car stopped just beyond a tall black gate.

The front yard was spacious, with a neatly tended garden and several trees that had been growing for years.

A middle-aged man in a simple uniform quickly opened the gate.
“Welcome, Miss Gisel.

We’ve been waiting for your arrival.”
Those words stopped me in my tracks.

It felt strange to hear someone welcome me with such respect.

While living with Robi’s family, even when I wanted a glass of water, I sometimes had to wait until everyone else had been served.

I stepped inside with mixed feelings.

The house was not unfamiliar to me.

However, it had been a very long time since my last visit.

Mrs.

Renata was already waiting in the living room.

Apparently, my father had contacted my mother before I arrived.

As soon as she saw my face, my mother came over and hugged me tightly.

She did not ask many questions.

Her hand simply stroked my back again and again, as though trying to remove every burden I had been carrying.

That was when my defenses collapsed.

The tears I had been holding back finally broke free.

They were not tears over losing my marriage, but tears from realizing how exhausting it had been to pretend to be strong in front of people who had never valued my presence.

My mother invited me to sit down.

Then she brought me a glass of warm water.

Not long afterward, Mr.

Saidi came out of his study.

My father sat in front of me, studying my face, still swollen from crying.

He did not immediately bring up Robi.

Instead, he asked whether I had eaten and whether any part of my body hurt after what had happened.

Those simple questions made my heart ache even more.

All this time, the person who should have been my place to come home to had left me to face everything alone.

Meanwhile, the people who had never stopped thinking about my well-being were my father and mother.

That night, my father asked the housekeeper to prepare the room I usually used.

However, before I went to rest, something surprised me.

My father handed me a folder containing documents for the house.

Inside were the ownership certificate, building documents, and several papers showing that the house had been prepared in my name long ago.

My father said the house was more than a place to live.

It was the result of decades of hard work that he had always intended to leave to me.

I lowered my head and read each document.

It turned out that my father had never considered my decision to live with Robi a reason to take the house back.

He had even arranged for people to help care for it if I ever decided to live there.

However, the real surprise came when my father showed me a room at the back of the house.

Inside were photographs from my childhood, several treasured belongings I used to look for, and even a study desk that was still well maintained.

My father had not merely prepared a house.

He had also preserved my childhood memories.

I could not say anything.

Amid all the terrible things I had just experienced, there was apparently a place that had never truly stopped making room for me.

The following morning, I began unpacking the things I had brought.

For the first time in a long time, I could choose what to wear without worrying about someone commenting on it.

I also began walking around the house.

There were many rooms I had not yet examined closely, but the peace did not last long.

Toward noon, a security guard contacted the housekeeper.

He reported that three people had arrived in a car and asked to see me.

The security camera clearly showed who they were.

Mrs.

Titik, Mr.

Jatmiko, and Robi.

They stood in front of the gate, looking at the large building before them.

Mrs.

Titik even pointed toward the house several times, as though unable to believe that it really belonged to me.

Robi was pacing.

Mr.

Jatmiko stood stiffly beside the car.

Meanwhile, Mrs.

Titik, who was usually so outspoken, now repeatedly straightened her clothes before speaking to the security guard.

They did not yet know that the house they had thought would never truly belong to me already had documents in my name.

And most surprisingly, they had not come merely to apologize.

From Mrs.

Titik’s movements, it was clear she had something in her bag.

She kept gripping it while trying to persuade the guard to let them inside.

I stood some distance from the gate, watching them through the window.

A few seconds later, Mrs.

Titik lifted her face toward the house and began calling my name in a voice very different from her usual one.

This time, she had not come to throw me out.

She had come with a request I had never expected.

From behind the window, I could see Mrs.

Titik still standing in front of the gate.

She looked anxious.

Occasionally, she turned toward Robi, then spoke to Mr.

Jatmo.

Not long afterward, the security guard came to tell me that they wanted to see me.

At first, I chose not to go outside.

However, my father, who had been sitting in the living room, suggested that I hear for myself what they wanted to say.

Not to reopen a relationship that had already caused pain, but so there would be no unfinished matters.

Finally, I walked toward the front porch.

As soon as she saw me, Mrs.

Titik moved closer to the gate.
“Gisel, my child, I want to talk.

Please don’t treat us like strangers.”
I remained silent for a moment.

When I had lived in their house, I had almost never heard her call me “my child.” What I heard more often were words that made me feel unworthy of being part of that family.

Robi then stepped forward.
“Gisel, I’m sorry.

I know I was wrong not to defend you.

I was so afraid of confronting Mom that I forgot you had feelings, too.”
His voice sounded heavy.

However, I no longer found comfort in his words.

Mr.

Jatmiko, who had remained silent, finally spoke as well.

He said they had discussed everything the previous night.

He also admitted that they had been too quick to judge people by their appearance and financial circumstances.

But one thing surprised me even more.

Mrs.

Titik suddenly opened the bag she was carrying.

She took out a brown envelope and showed it to me.

Inside was a written statement Robi had already signed.

It stated that he was willing to end our marriage amicably and would make no claim to my inheritance or personal assets.

I looked at Robi with feelings I could not explain.

They had come to hand over that letter.

Robi lowered his head.

He said he did not want our problems to drag on any longer.

He admitted that he had realized he had failed to be a husband who protected me.

However, before I could answer, Mrs.

Titik interrupted.

She said the letter had been prepared because she was afraid their family’s problems would grow worse.

She even hoped that once everything was settled, I would still be willing to help Robi if his financial situation deteriorated.

Those words made me smile faintly.

Even after everything that had happened, they still regarded my presence as something they could use.

Finally, I spoke calmly.
“I never asked for a luxurious house.

I never asked you to support me, either.

All I wanted was to be respected as Robi’s wife and as a human being.

But when things became difficult, you made me the first person who had to be cast aside.”
Mrs.

Titik began crying.

She said she regretted what she had done and asked for a chance to make everything right.

However, this time, her tears no longer moved me.

I had learned that someone’s regret did not always mean they had truly changed.

They might only be regretting the consequences of their own actions.

Robi then asked whether we could speak alone.

He admitted that he still loved me and wanted to repair our marriage.

I looked at him for a long time.

We had built so many memories together.

There had been days when I believed he was the person who would remain beside me until we grew old.

But it turned out that love alone was not enough when someone chose silence while their partner was humiliated.
“I’m sorry, Robi.

I don’t want to spend the rest of my life constantly proving that I deserve to be valued.”
Robi lowered his head even further.
[music]
I then asked the security guard to accept the letter.

If there were administrative matters to settle, everything could be discussed through the proper channels and according to the rules.

There was no longer any reason for them to enter my house.

Mrs.

Titik gripped the gate and called my name.

She even said their house would feel empty if I truly left.

However, I gave only one reply.
“That house may feel empty without me.

But before, you never thought about what it felt like to live there without ever being considered family.”
After that, I turned around.

My steps felt much lighter than when I had first arrived at that house.

Not because all my wounds had suddenly disappeared, but because I had finally stopped forcing myself to remain somewhere that kept hurting me.

Inside the house, I saw my father sitting with my mother.

They did not ask about Robi again.

My mother only smiled when she saw me return.

A few weeks later, all the matters concerning our separation began to be settled properly.

I asked for nothing from Robi’s family.

Likewise, I gave no one the opportunity to interfere with what rightfully belonged to me.

Meanwhile, I began learning to live peacefully.

Occasionally helping my father with family matters, spending time with my mother, and enjoying the house that had finally truly become a place to come home to.

I never wished for Robi and his family to become poor.

I also did not need to repay their insults with insults of my own.

Let them live with their choices.

Because there was one thing I finally understood.

The two plastic bags my father had given me were indeed worth billions of rupiah, but their value could not compare with the lesson I had learned from everything that happened.

My father gave me assets so I would not lose my footing when life became difficult.

However, the decision to leave the people who belittled me was a far greater wealth.

The door to my house remains open to people who come with sincerity.

But for those who only valued me after learning what was inside those two plastic bags, the door to my heart has closed forever.