Last night I dreamed of you,
mother-in-law.

You were resting by the pool—
the one where we once
spent our family summers.

I crept in quietly,
not to see you,
but to see him.

But you turned on me,
your eyes filling with tears,
asking the same words
he once threw at me:

“Did you come here
to ruin his life?”

I kept asking you—
What story did he tell you?
Because my parents
wished him well,
said he was a beautiful man,
that he would find someone
just as special.

Why did you never reach out?
Why did you never say a word?

Your eyes red,
your voice breaking—
I told you not to cry.
It wasn’t worth it.

You’ve suffered enough—
you lost a son,
you had a cruel husband,
you lived for everyone else.

And still,
you remain strong.
You are a warrior,
mother-in-law.

So don’t cry,
not for this.

At the end of the dream,
he appears at last,
smiling.

And though you spoke,
I no longer heard.
I only saw his smile.

And I wondered—
why was he smiling?