Chapter 1 PAMELA

Pamela, you need to understand that my son has a schedule, things are not like that! I had to leave my house to come to tell you this, he comes home tired from work and still has to wait for you to make dinner? Dinner should be ready when he arrives. '' My mother-in-law Ms. Beth says to me moving things around in my kitchen, she treats me as if I do not take good care of my husband and that she needs to stay ''helping me'' with what to do, and I spend the whole day at home tidying up without at least having any right to sit down to stretch my legs.

Olavo was getting his clothes dirty all the time, and I had to pick them up one by one and wash them day after day. But of course, he went to my mother-in-law's house to complain about me, as always.

Mrs. Beth, I always cook dinner at 7:00 pm, because that's the only time I have when I finish cleaning the house and washing Olavo's countless clothes. You can see, the coffee bottle is full here and he's still drinking it. There are some cookies that I baked over the weekend, over there on top of the cupboard.' I point the jar at her, but she doesn't even listen to me, she's frying rice at the same time that she's already filled a pot with water to cook the noodles.

I grit my teeth and cross my arms.

Pamela, I know my son. He has lived with me all his life, I know his schedule. You two have been married for a little over three years and until today you haven't learned to reconcile life as a housewife with fulfilling your husband's desires? '' She turns to me raising her eyebrows.

Ms. Beth is a tall woman, a little stout, her hair is wavy and light; something like a reddish brown, and it is tied in a bun most of the time. Her eyes are strained and authoritative. Every day she comes to my house to criticize me, but she loves to pick on me too, sometimes I suspect that she can't stand me and just pretends to put up with it, since she has no way.

I swallow my words to avoid giving her a sharp answer.

Olavo arrived with her and went to the bathroom to take a shower and is still there.

When we got married I was only 20 years old. Olavo is 4 years older than me, we have known each other since we were children, and our parents were neighbors until my mother disappeared into the world with a guy and left us behind, I swore to myself that I would behave and that I would never be like her. That's why when Olavo proposed marriage to me even after we had formalized our official courtship at the door a few months earlier, I accepted. We got married as virgins, one never crossed the line with the other because we respected each other, we promised that we would only touch each other when we got married and so it happened. But I am extremely grateful for the life that my husband gives me, I have nothing to complain about, he gives me everything. I considered him the true gift from God!

My father molded me to be an excellent housewife! If we wanted to have employees, Olavo didn't think it was necessary since I know how to cook and have dealt with domestic chores all my life.

I don't do anything else in life, I just spend my days cleaning the house, tidying up, being the mistress of the home, and living solely for my husband. Yes! I love being a housewife, it's been my dream since I can remember. My routine is methodically defined down to the smallest detail. Olavo is a bit demanding so he always demands a lot from me and this makes me a nervous wreck most of the time.

Indeed, I never got to thinking too much about what my married life would be like, marriage was a goal for me, but I also love the part when the night comes and Olavo gives me affection as if I were a pet cat thirsty for his attention while he was always glued to his cell phone; I was no fool, I could feel that I was seeing some other woman's picture and this filled me with insecurity and jealousy. I felt disrespected.

Olavo is not exactly a fairy-tale prince, he is a normal guy. Although we were young, we behaved as if we were 80 years old, we did not travel as couples do, he did not sit on the sofa with me to watch television, nor did we take baths together. It was each one in his place. But our sex life is excellent! I won't deny that this part filled me with curiosity, but when my schoolmates talked about their relationships with their boyfriends, I got away from them because I wanted to have my own experiences when I had them. Olavo was the first man in my life and for sure we will live forever together because no other will ever take his place. He makes me feel like a woman very loved and immensely happy! living in the home of my dreams, if it were not for my mother-in-law who makes sure that I feel incompetent as a wife and housewife.

The house we live in has two floors and is the house I always dreamed of. It's not luxurious but it's ours, and I have everything I need here.

I step to the side when my mother-in-law makes an impatient sign with her hands for me to get out of the closet. From there she takes out a package of noodles, opens and breaks them, and pours them into the boiling water.

I feel embarrassed, humiliated, and uncomfortable but I don't say anything else either. Getting into an argument with her won't get me anywhere.

A few minutes later Olavo appears, wearing shorts, sandals, a T-shirt, and a towel around his neck.

The smell is wonderful, Mom," she smiles radiantly. My chest compresses inside me, but I keep quiet and watch the two of them get along. My husband kisses her on the side of her head and then looks at me. The seasoning is the same way my mother makes it, look how fantastic it smells! Olavo closes his eyes for a few seconds as if he were about to float away intoxicated by the smell of my mother-in-law's seasoning.

I press my lips together feeling frustrated.

Each person has his or her way of making spices. That doesn't mean your mother is better than mine .''

He raises his eyebrows at me '' Love... it is .''

My mother-in-law turns to me widening her smile even more.

"One day you'll get there Pamela. But if my son is saying, thank you, my love .''

Humiliated, swallowing all the anger and the desire to cry, I stay close to them, leaning against the wall, listening to Olavo telling Mrs. Beth about his day and his work; things that I never heard him talking to me, he talks to her.