And finally I saw where all the food from the refrigerator had been going. In front of me stood Mei — Riyan’s sister, calmly transferring my dishes into a bright pink bag. I froze, my heart pounding. She turned, surprised when she noticed my phone ready to record.

—Uh… I’m just taking some leftovers, — she began to stammer, — Riyan said it was okay…

—Okay? — I shouted, barely holding back tears. — You regularly steal my work while I’m working!

The bag was almost emptied back into the refrigerator and Mei ran off, but I understood the main thing: Riyan allowed this to happen. His “hunger” was only an excuse to ignore my work and my time.

That night became a turning point. I realized that the love and care I put into the family should be valued, not taken for granted. Within a few days I started packing my things, and the decision to leave became inevitable.

Long conversations with the children confirmed I was right: respect matters more than familiar comfort. I left the house without shouting, without begging, taking only my dignity and clarity with me.

Now, every time I see a refrigerator or a bag with someone else’s food, I remember that night. It reminds me: no devotion should ever become a tool of manipulation. And most importantly — I deserve to be with those who value me as much as I value them.

The ending was painful but freeing. A new life was beginning without lies, without “hidden food,” and with complete honesty.