The Gifts That Set Everything Right
Gwen and James were preparing for their wedding. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until the groom’s parents announced their “grand gift”—they had bought a flat. James beamed, his eyes alight with pride, as he declared:
“I’ve always dreamed of living in the city centre! And now—it’s come true!”
Gwen smiled, softly but strained. The centre was prestigious, of course, but there was no park, no greenery, no quiet… When you truly think of the future, especially of children, you look beyond the façade—you care about what surrounds you. But James only saw the façade. And not just in the literal sense.
The flat had been bought before the wedding. Gwen didn’t even object—it was his parents’ money, their decision in the end. She wasn’t the sort to lay claim to what wasn’t hers. Besides, she and James had agreed: this was temporary. Later, once they’d saved enough, they would buy a proper house together. Theirs. For their family. As equals.
But that first housewarming took an unexpected turn.
Dreams and Realities: The First Blow
When both families gathered in the new flat, James was radiant, his parents equally so. Toasts and congratulations filled the air. Gwen stayed quiet. She fought not to show how alien the fuss over this “gift” felt to her—especially when James’s father announced loudly:
“We’ve certainly spent a fortune. So I suppose it’s only fair if the bride’s family covers the wedding. After all, we’ve provided the young couple with a home!”
The words hung heavy. James said nothing. Gwen’s mother, Eleanor, smiled coolly, while her father simply nodded.
“No trouble at all. We’ve prepared something ourselves. Our gift will be just as worthy.”
The next day, Gwen learned her parents and stepfather had decided to gift her… a flat. Her own. In the very place she’d dreamed of—near a park, quiet, with good schools. Spacious, full of light, not in the centre, but where life thrived. And there was another surprise—a car. From her grandparents. Gwen had put some of her own savings into it, not out of greed, but fairness.
Housewarming No. 2: Where Truth Lies, So Does Home
Two weeks later, Gwen invited everyone—her parents, their spouses, James, and his family—to another housewarming. In her new flat.
“Where exactly are we?” James asked, glancing around in surprise.
“My parents’ wedding gift to me. A flat I’d always wanted. In a place built for living—not just for the view from the window,” she replied calmly.
Her in-laws’ faces fell.
“We already gave our gift!” James’s mother, Margaret, protested. “This is too much.”
“Too much?” Gwen’s mother countered. “We’ve only balanced the scales. You gave James a flat—we gave Gwen one. Fair’s fair. Equals.”
“And a car to boot!” her grandmother added, placing the keys on the table. “Not some modest thing—a proper one. So my granddaughter wants for nothing.”
James sprang up, grabbing Gwen’s wrist and pulling her into the kitchen.
The Fight That Changed Everything
“What on earth was that? If your family wanted to help, they could’ve put the money toward our future house—not made me look a fool!”
“I made no one look foolish. My family simply gave me a gift, just as yours did for you.”
“Now I’m the one who’s ashamed!” he snapped. “You’ve humiliated me!”
“No, James. You did that yourself the moment you decided your wishes were all that mattered—that I should be grateful without even being asked.”
He stormed out. In the sitting room, the parents were arguing:
“The husband should be head of the household!” James’s father barked.
“And respect should be the foundation of it,” Gwen’s stepfather retorted.
Gwen clapped her hands sharply.
“Enough! Everyone’s tired. Those who wish to leave—please do. The rest of us will stay and celebrate. Because life isn’t a bargaining table. Happiness is being respected.”
Life After the Unequal Wedding
James left. His mother slammed the door on her way out. Gwen remained. In her flat. With her family, the roast in the oven, and a faint ache in her chest—but with absolute clarity.
That evening, she understood one thing: if someone resents you for having as much as they do, they never truly planned to stand beside you as an equal. They preferred you beneath them.
The wedding never happened. James tried to return—first with accusations, then with apologies. But it was too late.
And Gwen? She went on holiday. Alone, driving her new car. To her grandmother’s cottage in the countryside. Where it was green, peaceful, and where she was always welcome.
Did she regret not marrying James? At first, yes. Then she realized: better to be alone than tied to someone who, from the very start, placed himself above her.
And you know what?
It was the best housewarming she’d ever had.
