My Son Paulo Had Only Been Married to Mira for a Week. Their wedding in Batangas had been modest, but filled with laughter, tears, and sincere promises.
Mira seemed to be the ideal daughter-in-law: sweet, polite, smiling, always treating everyone in the family with respect.
Even the neighbors and relatives couldn’t stop praising her.
«We are truly blessed to welcome such a gracious daughter-in-law,» I proudly told my friends at the market.
But just a few days after the wedding, I started noticing something strange…
The Secret of the Sheets
Every morning, without exception, Mira would take the sheets and blankets to wash them and hang them out to dry in the sun. Sometimes, she even changed them twice a day.
One day, I asked her:
— «Why do you change the bed linens every day, hija?» (A term of endearment for daughter.)
She replied with a sweet smile:
— «I’m allergic to dust, Nanay (Mother). I sleep better when everything is fresh.»
Yet, I had my doubts. All the linen was new, fragrant, carefully chosen for the wedding.
And no one in our family had allergies.
Little by little, I started suspecting she was hiding something else…
The Upsetting Discovery
One morning, I pretended to go to the market.
When Mira went down to the kitchen, I silently slipped into their room.
The moment I opened the door, a strong metallic odor hit me.
My heart began to pound frantically.
I approached the bed and slowly lifted the sheet…
My legs almost gave out.
The white mattress was covered in blood stains—thick, layered, everywhere.
And it wasn’t menstrual blood. It was different: darker, heavier, more disturbing.
Panicked, I opened the drawers.
Inside, there were rolls of bandages, a bottle of antiseptic, and a blood-stained undershirt, neatly folded and hidden.
Mira’s Truth
I rushed downstairs, grabbed Mira by the wrist, and led her back to the bedroom.
— «Explain this to me! What is going on? Why this blood? Why are you hiding this?!»
At first, she remained speechless. Her whole body was trembling, her eyes were filled with tears, and her lips were quivering.
Then she collapsed into my arms, sobbing.
— «Nanay… Paulo has advanced leukemia.
The doctors say he only has a few months left.
We rushed the wedding because I couldn’t leave him.
I wanted to stay… no matter how much time we had left.»
My world collapsed.
My son—the child I had raised, protected, and cherished—had hidden the truth to shield my heart.
He had chosen to suffer in silence so that I wouldn’t break down.
A Mother’s Decision
That night, I didn’t sleep a wink. Lying down, staring at the ceiling, I imagined the pain Paulo must be enduring and Mira’s silent devotion.
The next day, I went to the market to buy new sheets. I helped Mira wash the old ones. Every day, I woke up early to be there—for her, for him, for both of them.
And one morning, as we were changing the sheets together, I hugged her tightly.
— «Thank you, Mira… for loving my son.
For staying.
For choosing him, even knowing you would lose him.»
After All…
Three months later, in the quiet of the morning, Paulo passed away peacefully in his sleep—Mira holding his hand and whispering «I love you» until his last breath.
There was no pain, no struggle. Only serenity. And a slight smile on his face.
Since that day, Mira has never left.
She didn’t return to her parents.
She never remarried.
She stayed with me, helping me run our modest food stall.
She treated me like her own mother.
It has been two years now.
And when people ask me:
— «Why does Mira still live with you?»
I simply smile and answer:
— «Because she wasn’t just my son’s wife…
She became my daughter too.
And this will always be her home.
