The mother-in-law suggested the following: We move in with her and rent out our apartment. There was hardly any other choice, so we agreed. As long as my husband was home, everyone treated me kindly, but as soon as he left, everything changed. I was constantly put in my place and wasn’t even allowed near the fridge.
I often cried in front of my husband, trying to explain what was happening, but he didn’t believe me. He said his mother and sister would never do such things. He was especially doubtful when I told him they smeared something sticky on my hairbrush. I don’t know how much longer I could have endured it if not for one decisive incident.
Normally, my husband and I left the house together in the mornings—he went to work, and I took the children to kindergarten. But that morning, **James** felt a little unwell and decided to stay home. I went out to take care of some errands, and when I returned, I ran into **Michael** (my sister-in-law **Emma’s** partner) in the doorway.
– Hey you, go grab some beer, now!
– Are you out of your mind? – I asked, shocked.
– What, you don’t understand? I said hurry up! Do I need to repeat myself?
My mother-in-law stepped out of the kitchen:
– That’s right! At least she’ll do something useful for once, this worthless girl! And she can take out the trash while she’s at it.
At that moment, the door to our room opened, and **James** stepped out. A heavy silence filled the room. My mother-in-law immediately disappeared into the kitchen, while my husband walked straight up to **Michael**, grabbed him by the collar, and threw him down the stairs, shouting that he should never come back.
**Emma** wanted to say something but only shrugged. My mother-in-law tried to start an argument, but **James** cut her off before she could finish a sentence. He immediately called our tenants and informed them that this would be their last month in our apartment. Then he turned to his mother and sister and firmly said, **”If you say even one more insulting word about my wife by the end of the month, you can consider me no longer your son.”**
A month later, we moved back into our own apartment. But this nightmare haunted me for a long time. My mother-in-law and father-in-law disowned **James**, but he didn’t care at all. He even said he never wanted to see or hear from them again.
