I almost laughed.
For eleven months, they had treated me like a bank with legs. Not once had either of them asked what would happen if I stopped paying.
Now they were finally asking the right question.
After covering every expense, my mother-in-law still demanded another $5,000. When I refused, she lost control and threw hot coffee in my face. I left in tears, promising she would regret it. The next morning, she woke up to a harsh surprise waiting for her.
My mother-in-law demanded another five thousand dollars from me on a Tuesday night, despite the fact that I was already paying for everything in that house.
The mortgage. Utilities. Property taxes. Groceries. Her medications. My husband’s truck payment after he lost his job. Even the premium cable package she insisted helped her “nerves.” For eleven months, I had supported three adults on one income while working sixty-hour weeks as a senior claims analyst in Dallas. I kept telling myself it was temporary. My husband, Eric, said his mother, Diane, just needed “a little time” after her second divorce and financial issues. That “little time” turned into her taking over my kitchen, criticizing how I cooked, and acting like my paycheck was something she was entitled to.
That night, I walked in exhausted, dropped my laptop bag by the door, and saw Diane sitting at the breakfast bar in a silk robe, her red nails wrapped around one of my mugs.
She didn’t greet me.
She said, “I need another five grand by Friday.”
I laughed at first, thinking I’d misheard. “Another five grand for what?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb. I saw the bonus deposit hit your account.”
My stomach dropped. She had been going through the mail again, maybe even opening banking alerts that still printed to the shared office printer because Eric never fixed the settings.
“That money is not yours,” I said.
“It is if you expect peace in this house.”
I set my keys down carefully. “I already pay for everything.”
“And?” she snapped. “You married into this family. Family helps family.”
