George’s absence haunts their home, his memory wrapped in his shirt that Mariana clutches each night. Yet, it wasn’t his death that shattered her… it was her stepdaughter Susan’s demand for his assets. When she finally gave in, a twist emerged, leaving Susan furious and Mariana oddly at peace.
Moving on after losing a loved one is never easy. Sometimes, I still hear my hubby George’s voice in the back of my head. I wake up clutching his favorite shirt, his scent lingering on the fabric. But while I was still grieving his loss, what my stepdaughter did… it completely shattered me…
I’m Mariana, 57 years old, and I was married to the most wonderful man, George, for 25 years. He had a daughter, Susan, 34, from a previous marriage.
Our relationship with Susan used to be fine. She called me “Mom” and filled the void in my heart of not having a child of my own. I didn’t see her as “someone else’s” child. I loved her as my own daughter, you know.
When Susan got married to the man of her choice, George and I were overjoyed. But after that, everything went downhill when George was diagnosed with terminal cancer.
Susan’s visits dwindled from weekly to monthly, then stopped altogether. She barely came to see her father, occasionally calling me to ask about his condition.
One day, she asked me something that tore me apart. “How many more days does he have left to live?”
I gripped the phone tightly, my voice trembling. “Susan, your father isn’t some product with an expiry date.”
“I just want to know, Mom. I’m busy, you know that… I can’t be visiting often,” she replied.
“Busy?” I echoed, disbelief coloring my tone. “Too busy to see your dying father?”
She sighed heavily. “Look, I’ll try to visit soon, okay?”
But that “soon” never came.
Then, the day I dreaded finally arrived. The hospital called, informing me that George had passed peacefully.
I was shattered, barely able to stand as the news sunk in. My George, my beloved George, was gone.
To my shock and disappointment, Susan didn’t even attend his funeral. When I called her, she had an excuse ready.
“You know that I just delivered my baby last month, Mom,” she said, her voice oddly detached. “The doctors advised against long travel due to some health issues.”
I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “But Susan, it’s your father’s funeral. Don’t you want to see him one last time?”
“I can’t risk my baby’s health,” she replied curtly. “You understand, right?”
I didn’t, not really, but I nodded silently, forgetting she couldn’t see me. “Of course, sweetie. Take care.”
As I hung up and sat near my husband’s coffin, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something had fundamentally changed between us.
Six months after George’s passing, I was startled by a loud knock on my door. Opening it, I found Susan and her husband Doug, accompanied by a stern-looking man in a suit.
Susan barged in without a greeting. “Mom, we need you to sign some papers.”
I blinked, confused. “What papers?”
Doug thrust a stack of documents at me, including a blank sheet. “Just sign these. It’s for transferring all the assets into our names.”
“Excuse me?” I stepped back, my heart racing. “What are you talking about?”
Susan rolled her eyes. “Dad’s assets, Mom. We’re here to claim what’s rightfully ours.”
Their audacity left me speechless. If only George had left a will, I wouldn’t be in this mess. I would have ensured my daughter was taken care of before she even knew there was a problem.
But this? Their tone and audacity irked me. How could they think I’d just stand by and let them walk all over me?
“No,” I said firmly, finding my voice. “I want you to leave my house right now. And don’t you dare come back with such awful demands.”
Susan’s face contorted with anger. “You can’t do this! You’re not even my REAL MOTHER!”
Her words hit me like a bag of bricks. I stumbled back, tears welling in my eyes. “Susan, how can you say that? After all these years?”
“Just stick to your boundaries and pass on my father’s assets to me,” she spat.
I felt my blood pressure rising, my vision blurring with tears and rage. “Get out of my house!” I shouted. “Your father would be heartbroken if he knew what a greedy daughter you’ve become. I’m glad my George didn’t live to see this day.”
Susan launched into a tirade, her words becoming a blur of insults and demands.
“How dare you, Mariana? George was my father, not yours, and you have no right to anything here!” she yelled. “You think you can wiggle your way in here and take what’s ours? Over my dead body!”
That did it. Tears sprang from my eyes. Susan… the daughter my George and I had raised practically stabbed me with her words alone.
But no, I wouldn’t let them break me. Not me. Not Mariana.
“This is my home, and you’re not welcome! Take your greed and get out before I call the cops!” I retorted.
“Do you have any idea what you’re putting us through? You’re nothing but a greedy vulture, circling around for scraps my father left behind!” Susan barked.
“If you had an ounce of decency, you’d leave right now! But clearly, that’s asking too much!” I snapped.
“You think a few harsh words will scare us? Just sign the damn papers, lady!” Doug yelled at me.
I felt cornered by the daughter I’d loved and raised. I was furious and heartbroken.
When they refused to leave, my neighbor, hearing the commotion, rushed over. “You heard her! This isn’t your place, and you’re not welcome. Move it!” he physically escorted Susan and Doug out.
As they left, Susan’s furious voice echoed back. “This isn’t over, Mariana! You’ll regret this!”
I slumped onto the couch, my heart aching. Where had all that love we once shared vanished? How could greed twist my daughter into someone I barely recognized?
With trembling hands, I reached for George’s framed photo on the side table. Tears blurred my vision as I traced his smiling face.
“Oh, George,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Why didn’t you take me with you? I’m lost without you.”
A sob escaped my throat as I clutched the frame to my chest. “Our daughter… our sweet Susan… she’s a stranger to me now. What happened to the little girl who used to call me Mom?”
The silence of the empty house pressed in around me, amplifying my grief. I rocked back and forth, the photo cool against my tear-stained cheeks.
“I miss you so much, honey,” I choked out. “I don’t know how to face this alone.”
Susan’s calls didn’t stop after that. Day and night, my phone buzzed with her angry messages and voicemails. Finally, exhausted and desperate for peace, I decided to give in.
I met with my lawyer, determined to give Susan what she wanted and be done with it. But there was something neither of us knew.
A week later, Susan stormed into my home again, her face red with fury.
“HOW DID YOU DO THIS?” she screamed. “I only get $3,000 and an old car? What about everything else?”
I stared at her, a small smile forming on my face. “What are you talking about?”
Susan waved a paper in my face. “This! This pathetic inheritance you told the lawyer to give me! Where’s everything else?”
I took the paper from her, a small smile dancing on my lips. According to this, George only had $3,000 in his bank account, an old Mustang, and some debts.
“What about the house? The SUV? Dad’s old farmhouse?” Susan snapped.
You see, my lawyer, whom I’d called the other day, arrived and explained the situation. And this is what he said:
“Mrs. Anderson, everything the family owned is in your name. The house, the SUV, the farmhouse, everything. Mr. Anderson transferred it all to you years ago, keeping just three grand in his bank account and his old Mustang. It’s up to you now to decide the fate of these assets.”
Until the lawyer dropped the bomb, I’d assumed George had left me nothing. But no! He had made sure I’d be taken care of after he was gone. Bless his soul.
Susan’s face twisted with rage when I spilled the tea. “You’re lying! This can’t be true!” she hissed.
I looked at her, a strange calm settling over me. “Well, Susan, you wanted your father’s assets. Now you have them.”
“This isn’t fair!” she shrieked. “You tricked me!”
I looked up, a gentle smile plastered on my face. “No, Susan. I gave you exactly what you asked for… what rightfully belonged to your father. And now, I’m keeping what rightfully belongs to me.”
In the days that followed, I made a decision. I sold everything — the house, the SUV, the farmhouse, all of it. I made a decent eight figures, and bought a beautiful villa in a place I’d always dreamed of living, far from everyone.
As I settled into my new home, I received a call from an old friend back in town.
“Mariana,” she said, her voice hushed. “I thought you should know. Susan’s trying to start litigation against you.”
I sighed, unsurprised. “Let me guess, it fell through?”
“Yep. Everything was in your name, after all!”
I thanked her for the information and hung up, feeling a pang of sadness and relief.
Weeks passed, and I started to enjoy my new life. I traveled around the world, tried new hobbies, made new friends. But the peace didn’t last.
One day, my phone rang with an unfamiliar number. When I answered, I heard a man’s voice. “Mrs. Anderson? I’m calling on behalf of Susan. She wants to meet with you.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. “No,” I said firmly. “I’m not interested.”
“But Mrs. Anderson, she insists—”
I cut him off. “Tell Susan she got what she wanted. I have nothing more to say to her.”
As I ended the call, I couldn’t help but wonder why Susan was so desperate to meet now. What more could she possibly want? The fragments of my remaining peace?
I shook my head, pushing the thought away. It didn’t matter. I had a new life now, and I intended to live it to the fullest. After all, isn’t that what George would have wanted?
In-Laws Kicked Us Out of the House They Gifted After We Paid for Renovations — Then It Got Even Worse
When Mike’s parents offer him and his family a home, they are over the moon. Mike and Maria have a growing family, and they need the extra space. So, they venture into renovations, making the house a home. But one day, Mike’s parents called, wanting their home back.
When my in-laws offered us a house, we thought it was a dream come true. With three kids and a tight budget, any help came as a blessing.
A close-up of a house | Source: Midjourney
But, let me be honest with you: the house was far from ideal.
“It’s in the middle of nowhere, Mike,” I told my husband when we were sitting on the couch talking about the possibility of moving into the house.
“It’s miles away from the kids’ school and our jobs! We’ll have to leave a lot earlier just to make it on time,” I said, sighing.
A couple sitting on a couch and talking | Source: Midjourney
“I know, Maria,” my husband said. “It irritates me to think that the nearest grocery store is about twenty minutes away. But I don’t want to be ungrateful.”
And I understood that. In fact, their gift had come at the perfect moment. We had outgrown our little two-bedroomed house. It was now cluttered, and our three kids had to share one bedroom.
A cluttered bedroom | Source: Midjourney
“We’ll do it for the kids,” I said, taking his hand. “Whatever happens, we’ll make it work for them.”
“Think of it as a fresh start, kids,” Mike’s mom said when we went over to their home for dinner. “You’ll love the peace and quiet, and the kids will have a lot of space to run about in. This is going to be good for you.”
“Yes, Mom,” Mike said. “We agree with you. We’re looking forward to this new start and just going on a journey together as a family.”
A family sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
The house itself was a fixer-upper, to put it mildly. There was an entire to-do list of things that needed to be done. The house needed a new kitchen, the wiring needed to be updated, and the bathrooms needed an overhaul.
We knew it would be a big project, but at the end of the day, Mike and I wanted this house to be the home our children grew up in.
“The yard is so big, honey,” Mike told me. “Can you imagine all the birthday parties and even having our kids getting married from here? I love it.”
We poured all our savings into renovating it, making it not just livable but a true home for our family. Our children deserved it.
An outdoor birthday party set up | Source: Midjourney
As things were falling into place, Mike, the tech enthusiast, even set up a state-of-the-art smart home system.
“At least it’s ours,” Mike said, smiling as he showed me how the new system worked. “It finally feels like home.”
A few months went by, and we were settled into our new home. The children adapted beautifully, and Mike and I got closer as a couple. We went on long walks together, and the kids went on picnics together all the time.
Our family had grown closer together.
A picnic set up | Source: Midjourney
Then, last month, my in-laws dropped a bombshell. They decided to sell their current house and buy a lakeside cabin. To fund this new venture, they needed our house back.
What? How? This had become our home.
We were absolutely stunned. They insisted that although they had gifted it to us, they still had a right to take it back. The sense of betrayal was overwhelming.
“They can’t do this,” Mike fumed, pacing our newly renovated kitchen. “We have a letter from them saying it was a gift!”
A shocked couple | Source: Midjourney
My husband and I couldn’t believe it. We had a written letter from them, clearly stating that the house was a gift. We decided to fight back, hiring a lawyer to help us navigate this sudden crisis.
We provided all the documents, receipts, and the gift letter. We were convinced that there had to be some legal ground we could stand on.
“I don’t know what else to do,” Mike said one morning when we were having our coffee together. “I don’t know how we’re supposed to find another place and uproot the kids again. This isn’t fair!”
A stack of paper | Source: Midjourney
Weeks passed as we waited for a resolution. But I was just getting more agitated as the days went on. Mike told me not to do anything until the lawyer got back to us. But I couldn’t wait.
I couldn’t sit back and do nothing while we waited for our home to be taken away from us. So, I spent hours looking at rentals available in the area. I just needed to have options available on hand.
I didn’t know what was coming. And I couldn’t believe that Mike’s parents would willingly put us in this situation.
A woman using a phone | Source: Unsplash
But then, the lawyer did eventually get back to us.
He walked up our driveway expressionless, which immediately made me think that there was no good news coming.
“I’m afraid there’s not much we can do,” he said. “The property was never legally transferred into your names. The documents show them as the legal owners. So, I’m sorry, but Mike’s parents are the owners.”
A man in a suit walking | Source: Midjourney
The news was devastating.
I felt my entire stomach drop.
Mike, furious and heartbroken, suggested we undo all the renovations out of spite.
“They used us,” he said bitterly. “We should take back everything we put into this place.”
But I couldn’t bear the thought. Despite everything, we couldn’t stoop to that level.
“We’re better than that,” I said. “We’ll find another place and make it ours.”
An expressionless woman | Source: Midjourney
So, we packed our belongings and moved into a tiny apartment closer to the city.
It was cramped, but it felt like a fresh start, free from the manipulation of my in-laws.
The kids adjusted surprisingly well, finding new friends and enjoying the proximity to their school and activities.
“I feel like we failed our children,” I told Mike when we were unpacking our kitchen items. “I just hate that they have to share a room again. And bunk beds? You know they hate this!”
“I know, my love,” Mike said. “But it’s just for now. The moment we can move to something better, we will. I promise you.”
A small apartment | Source: Midjourney
Just when we thought that the drama was over, my in-laws reached out to us again. They were struggling with the smart home system Mike had set up.
“We can’t figure out how to use the lights, let alone the heating!” Mike’s dad complained over the phone. “Can’t you come back and help us out here?”
The irony wasn’t lost on us.
An elderly man using a phone | Source: Midjourney
We had made that house livable and even comfortable, pouring our money and energy into it. Now, they were reaping the benefits of our hard work, but they were clueless about managing the systems we installed.
Despite their pleas, there was no way that we were going back.
“No,” Mike said firmly. “The house wasn’t right for us. We’re staying where we are.”
A man holding his phone | Source: Midjourney
The trust was shattered, and the house, with all its tech features, was a constant reminder of the betrayal. Living in the cramped apartment wasn’t easy, but we found solace in the fact that we were free from emotional manipulation.
“This isn’t going to be forever, Maria,” Mike said. “I promise you. I’ll fix this.”
A couple embracing | Source: Midjourney
The experience left us wary of gifts that come with strings attached. We learned that sometimes, what seems like a generous gesture can be a way for others to control your life.
As for my in-laws, they eventually figured out the smart home system, but the damage was done. Our relationship with them has changed irrevocably.
“Please, come over for dinner,” Mike’s mother said. “We miss you guys, and we miss the kids terribly.”
An older woman using a phone | Source: Midjourney
“I’m sorry, Eileen,” I said. “But we’re just so hurt. And you should have known better. You’re a mother; you know how important it is for kids to have stability. And you and Derek took that away from us.”
“Calm down, please, Maria,” she said.
“No, because I don’t think you understand the extent of our wounds. Mike is so disappointed in you both.”
Without another word, Eileen cut the call.
“Oh, well,” I said to myself as I started chopping vegetables for dinner. Mike and the kids would be home soon.
A woman in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
I Accidentally Found Out My Friend’s Husband Was Cheating – I Couldn’t Help but Take My Revenge
Allison decides to hold onto her youthful side as she drives a taxi during her spare time. But one day, her friend’s husband is her passenger. As she takes the man to his destination, he asks for a detour, revealing a side of him she didn’t know. Next, Allison has to decide whether to be good at her job and protect her friend or help show her the truth.
Driving a taxi at 65 years old wasn’t part of my retirement plan, but it became my passion. I had been a writer for a women’s column for the better part of my career, and since retirement dawned, I only wrote a few articles per month.
A person using a typewriter | Source: Midjourney
“Just something to keep the old clogs working,” my editor, Elena, said when I told her that retirement was knocking on my door. “You don’t have to commit to it, Allison. It can be a freelance role, if that’s what you’d like. But just write for us every so often.”
I agreed, what else did I have to do with my time anyway?
But then, the open road, the hum of the engine, and the stories of my passengers kept me going.
“Mom, why?” my son, Darren, asked me. “Like really? Driving people around?”
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
“You’ll understand the need to do something freeing when you’re older, son,” I told him. “Let me do this while I still can. And what’s better than enjoying what I do?”
Yesterday was one of those days that I’ll never forget because it reminded me how foul people can be.
The previous day, one of my regulars, Jane, called me. She was a lively 55-year-old woman, and over the years, we had become friends.
A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney
“Hi, Allison,” she said on the phone. “I need a favor.”
“If it involves those croquettes with the peas that you’re trying to get me to eat, it’s a hard pass,” I chuckled. “What do you need?”
“Mike is leaving on a trip tomorrow, and he needs a ride to the airport. I’m going to be babysitting the grandbaby, so I don’t want to disturb her routine.”
People at an airport | Source: Midjourney
Read the full story here.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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