“She’s gone, Ma,” I muttered, feeling a chill run down my spine as I spoke the words. The gravity of the situation hung heavily in the air.

My mother’s face hardened, and she pursed her lips. “Good riddance, then. If she can’t respect her elders—”

But I couldn’t hear it. My mind was racing. Where could Anita have gone? How far could she have possibly traveled with our son in such a short span?

The day turned into a haze of phone calls and desperate attempts to reach out to Anita’s family. They hadn’t heard from her either. Panic had settled in now, a relentless throb at the back of my mind.

As the hours dragged on, the silence in the house became oppressive. My mother’s presence, once a source of comfort, felt stifling. I replayed the events of the past weeks over and over in my mind—every argument, every word, every choice where I had sided with my mother instead of my wife.

An eerie emptiness filled our home. Anita’s laughter, her gentle humming as she tended to our son, the warmth she brought to the household—gone. I couldn’t shake off the image of her tired, resigned face as I had forced her into the storeroom.

It was late evening when I finally sat down, exhausted and defeated. My mother, finally realizing the gravity of her daughter-in-law’s absence, sat across from me, a troubled frown etching lines deeper into her face.

“What will you do now?” she asked quietly, her voice no longer carrying its usual sharpness.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t know. I had spent so much time being the “dutiful son” that I had lost sight of being a supportive husband. The realization was harsh and unforgiving. I had let my pride and adherence to tradition push away the woman who had promised to be a part of my life, no matter the distance from her own family.

As night fell, I sat alone in the living room, the weight of my actions pressing down like a physical burden. I had to find Anita, to apologize, to make things right. But how? Where would I begin?

At that moment, I understood that the path to redemption wouldn’t be easy. I had to confront the beliefs I had grown up with and challenge the dynamics that had led to this breaking point. More importantly, I had to find a way to show Anita she was valued, respected, and loved—not just as a daughter-in-law, but as my wife and the mother of our child.

I knew it was a journey I had to take, not just for her, but for myself. The dawn of a new day was just a few hours away, and with it, a glimmer of hope. I just had to muster the courage to follow it.