At first, I didn’t notice anything unusual about my husband’s visits to his mother. We had been married for seven years, and like many couples, we had settled into a comfortable routine. He worked long hours, I managed most of the household, and in the evenings we usually shared dinner and watched television together. His mother lived alone in a small town about twenty minutes away, ever since his father passed away years earlier. From time to time, he would go help her fix something around the house, take her groceries, or simply keep her company. I admired him for that. It felt like proof that I had married a responsible, caring man. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, things began to change. His visits became more frequent. Once a week turned into twice. Twice became four times. Then, suddenly, he was going almost every day. He would leave after work and come home late, tired and distant. On weekends, he often spent entire days there. When I asked, he always had the same answer: “Mom needs me. She’s lonely. The house is falling apart. I can’t just abandon her.” His tone was gentle, reasonable, and convincing. I told myself I was being selfish for even questioning it. After all, what kind of wife would be jealous of a man helping his elderly mother?