You can give and give, thinking you’re building a future together, only to find out you were being used. I gave my husband and his mom my time, money, and all my trust to build a house. When they tried to take it from me, I made sure they remembered who helped make it happen.
I’m Esme.
At 32, I’ve worked two jobs, skipped trips, and lived with my mother-in-law for three years to build a future with my husband. Well, a future that got yanked away by the woman I’d called “Mom” for three years.
The morning sun spilled through the kitchen window as I sat across from Maude, watching her fingers tap on the tablet’s spreadsheets. “I’ve been checking these numbers all weekend,” she said, her voice bossy as usual.
“Fixing up the upstairs will cost way more than we planned.”
My coffee mug stopped halfway to my mouth.
“How much more?”
“Enough to put it off for now. Sorry, dear, that’s just how it goes.”
Her words hit like a splash of cold water. “But Maude, Seth and I saved for months.
We figured it all out.
The second floor was going to be…”
“Going to be what?” Her eyebrows shot up. “Esme, honey, don’t get too excited.”
I put my mug down slowly.
“You promised us that space. We’ve been planning our life there.
The baby’s room, the office…”
“Oh, sweetie.” She patted my hand like I was a confused kid.
“I said I’d think about it. But this is my house. I paid for it.
I own it… and I decide what happens.”
“We built this house together, Maude.
Remember when we put down the bathroom tiles? Or when I painted the whole downstairs by myself?”
Maude chuckled.
“Painting some walls doesn’t make you the owner, dear! You chipped in a little cash.
That’s not a real investment!”
“What?”
The front door opened.
“I’m home!” Seth called out. “What are my favorite girls doing?”
“Just in time, son!” Maude said loudly. “Esme’s got some wild ideas about who owns this place.”
My husband stepped into the doorway, his gray eyes tired.
“Uh… what’s going on?”
“I was just telling Esme we can’t fix up the upstairs after all.
And she thinks she’s got a claim to it.”
“Seth,” I said, looking at him, “remember how we agreed the second floor would be ours? Your mom promised…”
“I said I’d think about it,” Maude cut in.
“And I’ve decided it’s not doable. What if family comes over?
Where would they sleep?”
“They could stay at a hotel.”
“A hotel?
You want me to send my family away?”
“I want you to keep your promise,” I said, standing slowly. “The one about the second floor being ours.”
“Promise?” She laughed. “Show me the papers, dear.
Show me where I signed anything.”
Seth ran his hand through his hair, his usual way of skipping a fight.
“Maybe we should just… take it slow. The upstairs can wait.
We’re okay downstairs, right?”
My heart dropped. “Okay?
We’ve been sleeping on a fold-out couch for six months because you gave our bedroom to your mom… for her sewing room.”
“Come on, Esme.
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