Three years of marriage… and every night her husband slept with his mother. Until one night, Marisol decided to follow him… and discovered a truth that made her cry.

When she first got married, Marisol believed she was the happiest woman in the world.
Her husband, Diego, was a busy, hard-working, responsible man. He left work early and always returned home, quiet, kind, without raising his voice.

But as the weeks passed, Marisol began to notice something strange.

Every night, Diego waited for her to fall asleep deeply, and then he would get up quietly, leave the bedroom,

and go to his mother’s room, Doña Teresa,

who lived in the next room.

At first, Marisol tried to hide. “He’s sure to see her because she’s old, or sick,” she told herself. But night after night, it was the same. Even when it was raining, cold, or stormy, he would still cross the hallway to sleep with his mother,

while she was left alone, tucked into bed.

One day she asked him directly, and he responded seriously:

“Mom’s afraid to sleep alone.”

Three years passed like this. Marisol didn’t protest anymore, but inside she was still calm. She felt like a stranger in her own home.

Sometimes Doña Teresa would drop comments that were too kind but annoying:
“A man who loves his mother is a blessing for his wife.”Marisol only smiled weakly, without replying. Everyone around her congratulated her: “Your husband is very good, very devoted.” But she knew something wasn’t right.

Three years, every night, with his mother… that couldn’t be normal.

That night, unable to sleep, Marisol saw the clock strike two in the morning. Diego moved gently, stood up, and, as always, left the room. Her heart fluttered.

This time, curiosity and pain won out over fear.

She turned off the light, opened the  door slowly, and followed him, carefully stepping on the hallway floor. She saw Diego open the door to his mother’s room

and close it behind him.

Marisol approached, catching her breath, and placed her ear against the wood.

From inside, Doña Teresa’s tired voice was heard:

“Son, please bring me the ointment… my back is burning badly.”

Diego’s voice responded with a stern voice:
“Yes, Mom, lie down a little, I’ll apply it.”
Marisol sat with her throat. She pushed the door open a little and looked. Diego was sitting on the edge of the bed, covered in blood, applying ointment to his mother’s back. Doña Teresa’s skin was covered in red rashes, and her expression showed pain.Marisol covered her mouth to sob. She couldn’t believe it. All that time, her mother-in-law had pretended, always wearing long sleeves, talking and laughing as if nothing was wrong with her. But at night, her wounds hurt so much that she couldn’t sleep alone. Diego, unable to let her suffer,

had spent three years caring for her in silence.

“I’m sorry, Mom… so I couldn’t ease your pain,” Diego said with a trembling voice.

“Son, you’re already married. I don’t want your wife to feel bad…” she sobbed.

“She’ll protect him. I just want him to be okay.”

Outside, Marisol fell to her knees. Tears streamed down her cheeks without restraint. Three years of suffering from her husband, three years of pain and mistrust…

and he had only been a loving son.
Gift baskets
She returned to her room without making a fuss. The next morning, when Diego left for work, Marisol went to the pharmacy, bought some mild ointment and clean towels,

and knocked on Doña Teresa’s door.

“Mom, let me help you,” she said with a trembling voice. From today on, I’ll apply the ointment,

so Diego can rest.

Doña Teresa looked at her in silence, her eyes brimming with tears. Then she nodded slowly.

“Thank you, daughter… thank you.”

That night, for the first time in three years, Diego slept the whole night next to Marisol. He took her hand with strength and murmured:

“Thank you for seeing me.”

She smiled through tears.
“Forgive me for seeing you before.”

He hugged her. And in that moment, the small bedroom was filled with peace. Marisol understood that happiness is not always about being loved in moderation, but about understanding and sharing the silent weight of true love.

From that day on, every night, Marisol prepared warm water and ointment to care for Doña Teresa. The woman’s health gradually improved, her smile returned to fill the house, and Diego, freed from the weight of guilt,

became an even more loving husband.

All the worries dissipated, leaving only gratitude, compassion, and understanding.

Marisol then pondered:

“If that night hadn’t followed him,

perhaps I would have spent my entire life without knowing
how truly great the heart of the man I married was