The Cost Of Kindness

My husband's childhood sweetheart died in childbirth, leaving behind twin daughters.

When he asked me to adopt them, I refused.

But then, floating lines of text, like comments on a livestream, appeared before my eyes.

[ARE YOU KIDDING ME, EMILY? DON'T BE AN IDIOT! ONE OF THESE GIRLS MARRIES A TYCOON AND THE OTHER BECOMES A SUPERSTAR. YOUR FORTUNE IS MADE!]

[What are you worried about? This is a "raising kids" story. She's the protagonist. Of course she'll adopt them-how else does the plot even start?]

Twenty-five years flew by.

Under my tireless guidance, the twins became as successful as the comments had promised.

But on the day of my older daughter's engagement party, the long-dead childhood sweetheart reappeared.

She linked her arm through my husband's, her face a mask of smug triumph.

"I really have you to thank for raising my and Jason's daughters so brilliantly," she purred.

"Without you, I'd be the one with all the wrinkles and worry lines."

My husband then handed me divorce papers, ready to welcome his old flame back, to reunite their perfect little family of four.

I didn't cry.

I didn't scream.

I just smiled serenely and said, "Alright."

"Mom, my engagement party is tomorrow. Make sure you get all dressed up. I want you to walk in and take everyone's breath away."

"Yeah, Mom! If you need money, just ask. Don't you dare hold back. Sophia and I have plenty!"

Hearing my daughters' warm words filled me with a deep sense of satisfaction. All these years, all my love, had not been in vain.

Twenty-five years ago, when my husband Jason's childhood sweetheart died, he had proposed adopting her twin girls.

I had vehemently refused.

The woman had been entangled with my husband her entire life; I had no desire to live forever in her shadow.

But that was when the floating lines of text had appeared.

[ARE YOU KIDDING ME, EMILY? DON'T BE AN IDIOT! ONE OF THESE GIRLS MARRIES A TYCOON AND THE OTHER BECOMES A SUPERSTAR. YOUR FORTUNE IS MADE!]

[What are you worried about? This is a "raising kids" story. She's the protagonist. Of course she'll adopt them-how else does the plot even start?]

After reading the comments, I'd changed my mind.

After all, it was a chance to have two talented, devoted daughters without going through the pain of pregnancy myself.

For all these years, I had poured my heart and soul into raising them.

And now, just as the comments predicted, they were accomplished and successful.

My lucky day had finally come.

"Of course, of course. Thank you, my two sweet girls."

"I'm going to post this in the family group chat right now and show everyone how wonderful my daughters are!"

After hanging up, I did just that.

The group chat immediately exploded.

"Sophia and Olivia are so impressive!"

"They really are! And so thoughtful, too! I'm so jealous. Emily, you're the luckiest woman alive!"

"They say a daughter is a treasure, and they're not wrong!"

The compliments flooded my screen, but from my husband, Jason, there was only the usual silence.

Ever since his childhood sweetheart had died, he'd lived in another city.

We barely saw each other once a year, and he had never once involved himself in the girls' lives.

I couldn't be bothered with him.

I shut my phone off, took the unlimited black card my daughters had given me, and went on a well-deserved shopping spree to prepare for the party.

I was up at the crack of dawn, a professional stylist working on my hair and makeup.

I arrived at the hotel early to double-check every detail of the event; I wouldn't allow a single misstep on my daughter's big day.

The guests were all from Jason's side of the family.

None of my own family were here.

My parents had always looked down on Jason, a boy from a poor family, and my insistence on marrying him had caused a major rift.

When I later went against their wishes again, determined to raise another woman's children, their disappointment had turned to despair.

They'd given up on me completely.

I'd tried to tell them about the floating comments, but they just thought I'd lost my mind.

My thoughts were interrupted as my in-laws walked in, supported by my sister-in-law and her family.

My mother- and father-in-law ignored me completely, marched straight to the head of the table, and sat down in the seats of honor.

My sister-in-law, Karen, and her family promptly sat beside them, occupying one side of the main seating area.

Left with no choice, I moved to the other side.

But as I went to sit, my mother-in-law snapped at me.

"There's no place for you here. You don't deserve to sit with us!"

I froze.

There were only eight seats at the main table.

They had taken them all.

Did they expect me to sit with the younger generation?

I stood there, trapped in an awkward limbo, unable to sit or walk away.

"What are you standing there for?"

Karen sneered, cracking a sunflower seed between her teeth and rolling her eyes at me.

"Go get Mom and Dad some water! You have no sense at all."

Karen had married some deadbeat and had a lout of a son. She used to torment me for being "barren."

Now that I had raised two successful daughters while her own useless son sponged off her, her taunts had simply shifted to passive-aggressive digs.

"No matter how amazing a daughter is, she's still just someone else's problem eventually," she'd mutter.

"Not like a son. A son is an heir. You might not need one right away, but you have to have one!"

She finished by patting her son's fleshy cheek.

"Isn't that right, my precious boy?"

So I spent the next hour circling the table, serving my in-laws like a waitress.

Not a single one of the relatives said a word in my defense.

The moment my two daughters and my wealthy future son-in-law arrived, the atmosphere changed.

The relatives swarmed them with fawning compliments, pushing me aside so forcefully that my carefully styled hair was knocked into a disheveled mess.

After calming the crowd, my daughters and their fianc tried to lead me to a seat.

But when they saw the main table occupied by my in-laws and saw the state I was in, my daughters' faces flushed with anger.

Forced to show respect to their elders, my daughters could only grit their teeth and guide me to the seat on the left of the head table.

"Sophia, Olivia, she has no right to sit there," their grandmother snipped.

"That seat should be for the person you're closest to."

"Mom carried us for nine months and worked tirelessly to raise us into who we are today," Sophia shot back, her voice tight with anger.

"No one is more qualified than her."

She didn't wait for a reply, firmly seating me.

At the mention of "nine months," my in-laws and Karen exchanged mocking smiles.

"Well, our family certainly has to thank your sister-in-law for raising such outstanding children, hahaha."

My father-in-law eyed the girls with satisfaction.

"Sophia and Olivia look just like my son. So beautiful. And now with such a rich son-in-law... our ancestors must be smiling down on us!"

After thanking his ancestors, his tone shifted.

"By the way, Emily," he said, "your mother-in-law and I are getting older. We need money now more than ever. I heard Sophia and Olivia gave you a black card. It's a waste for you to have all that money. Why don't you give the card to us? Consider it a gift of respect to your elders."

Karen and her family listened, their eyes gleaming with greed.

"I hear those black cards have no limit! We can finally buy a house for my son's wedding!"

"Mommy, if I have that card, can I get a wife?" her son asked stupidly.

"Of course, my silly boy."

I was about to refuse, but my daughters spoke first, their voices smooth as silk.

"That's our mother's card. It's tied to her name. No one else can use it."

My in-laws looked skeptical.

"Can't you change it? It's a complete waste for her to have it. She doesn't deserve to spend that much money."

My daughters' faces darkened.

"Once a black card is issued, it can't be changed. And she is our mother. If she doesn't deserve it, who does?"

Karen muttered under her breath, "Her mother? I'm not so sure about that..."

My in-laws shot her a furious glare.

Seeing that my daughters were genuinely angry, they quickly backtracked.

"Fine, fine, we don't want the card."

"Mom! If you don't take it, how will my son get married?"

Karen cried out in panic.

"Shut up!" my father-in-law barked, before turning his attention to my son-in-law.

"A wealthy young man like you must be offering quite a generous wedding gift, yes?"

Ah. So that was their game.

My son-in-law glanced at my daughter, who then looked at me.

I gave a subtle nod.

He clapped his hands.

The doors opened, and four imposing bodyguards entered, hauling four large suitcases.

At his signal, they opened them, revealing stacks of cash that nearly blinded the greedy relatives.

"Two million, as a start," my son-in-law announced.

Then he produced a deed and a set of car keys.

"Emily," he said, addressing me directly, "this is the deed to a villa and the keys to a Rolls-Royce. I know that you are the most important person in the world to Sophia. This gift is a token of our respect for you."

My in-laws and Karen stared, their eyes practically popping out of their heads.

I could literally hear them swallowing.

Just as I reached out to accept the gifts, the doors were pushed open again.

A man and a woman walked in, holding hands.

I looked up and saw my husband, Jason, whom I hadn't seen in ages.

He'd finally decided to show up.

My eyes then shifted to the woman by his side.

Even after all these years, I recognized her instantly.

It was Vanessa Vance, his childhood sweetheart, the woman who was supposed to have died over two decades ago.

The relatives were dumbfounded, their heads swiveling between me and Vanessa, unable to comprehend why my husband was holding another woman's hand.

My in-laws, however, were completely unfazed.

They calmly welcomed Vanessa, had a waiter add a chair for her between them, and seated her at the head of the table.

Now, the seat of honor belonged to Vanessa.

"Emily," Jason spat, his voice filled with venom, "if you hadn't schemed to separate us back then, I never would have married you. This is your karma!"

He gestured to my daughters.

"And while you may be plain, you're a decent educator. You've raised my and Vanessa's daughters to be quite exceptional."

I laughed silently.

What a joke.

Jason had groveled at my feet for my family's money, eagerly abandoning Vanessa himself.

And now he was rewriting history.

"Sophia, Olivia," he continued, turning to the girls, "don't blame me for not being around. It was this vicious woman's fault. She's the reason you grew up without a mother or a father."

"Vanessa is your real mother," he declared.

"We've been separated as a family for over twenty years because of Emily!"

Vanessa walked over and took my daughters' hands.

"Sophia, Olivia, I'm your mother. Your father sent me pictures of you every year. Please, forgive me for being away for so long. I'll make it all up to you."

Then she turned to me, the triumph in her eyes impossible to hide.

"I really do have you to thank, sis, for raising my daughters so well. Without you, I'd be the one with all the wrinkles and worry lines."

My daughters stood frozen, looking at me with wide, confused eyes.

My in-laws and Karen rushed forward to brainwash them.

"Sophia, Olivia, this is your real mother! Emily stole you away, deprived you of your parents' love!"

"You should hate her! You have to hate her!"

Jason pulled out a divorce agreement and threw it in my face.

"Sign it, Emily! Just looking at you makes me sick. The only woman I've ever wanted to marry is Vanessa."

I didn't cry.

I didn't scream.

I didn't even argue.

I just smiled serenely.

"Alright. I'll reunite your family of four right away."