When Emilys mother-in-law found out we were planning to buy a flat, she pulled her son aside for a private chat. What happened next left me utterly shaken.
My husband and I had been saving for years. Though I earned twice his salary at an international firm, we pooled our moneyshared finances, shared dreams. The idea of owning our own place had kept us united, or so I thoughtuntil his family caught wind of it.
He had four sisters. To them, he wasnt just a brother but their rock, their fixer, the one who always stepped in. From university fees to covering bills, he gave without question, and money never found its way back. I saw it, bit my tongue, endured it. Family helps familyI sent money to my parents too. But this endless support stretched our flat hunt nearly three years longer than it should have.
Finally, when the savings were ready, we began our search. I took chargehe was swamped with work, coming home late. I didnt mind. I poured myself into finding the perfect place, determined to make it ours.
Then his mother invited us to a gatheringhis youngest sister had finished school. We arrived, shared a meal, and suddenly, she struck with a smile:
*”I suppose my boy will be moving into his own flat soon Wont have to come visiting us anymore.”*
My husband, beaming, confirmed we were already looking and that I was handling the search.
Her smile vanished. Her gaze turned glacial as she measured me up.
*”Well, thats nice. But love, you shouldve asked me first. Ive lived a lifeI know better. How could you leave something so important to your wife?”*
The eldest sister chimed in:
*”Shes selfish. Only thinks of herself. Not a single pound to help us. That flat matters more than family!”*
I nearly choked. Every word tore at me. I wanted to snap backif they needed money so badly, they could bloody well earn it. But I held my tongue, kept eating, refusing to engage. The sheer audacity at a family dinnerit winded me.
Then his mother stood, grabbed his wrist, and dragged him into the kitchen. *”We need to talk,”* she tossed over her shoulder. As they disappeared, the middle sister announced:
*”Well be living in his new flat. Well have our own room.”*
Rage burned through me. I stood abruptly, walked straight to the hall, and called a cab. No goodbyes, no scenejust escape.
That night, I tried to talk to him. But he was hollow. Sat in silence, staring at nothing. And finally, it hit mefrom that moment on, he wasnt my husband. Just his mothers son.
