I gave my daughter a house as a wedding gift, thinking her marriage would be something to celebrate: elegant, joyful, everything a mother could wish for. But before the ceremony even took place, this supposed son-in-law showed up with his entire family: parents, brother, sister-in-law, all moving in as if they owned the place. The first thing they said was, “We’ll have the master bedroom; she can handle all the chores.” I thought this was going to be a marriage. It turns out they saw my daughter as nothing more than a live-in domestic servant. But here’s what they didn’t see
coming: they got carried away too soon and realized too late. My daughter isn’t anyone’s stepping stone, and the next instant I was sure of that. But her family—that was another story. No house, no car, and certainly no financial contribution to the wedding. Her parents lived in a remote village working as farm laborers, while her brother and sister-in-law barely scraped by with odd jobs in the city. Thomas and I had our doubts about this relationship from the start, but Natalie
was deeply, stubbornly, hopelessly in love. She begged, persuaded, and insisted until we finally gave in. Wanting to make sure she wouldn’t have any problems after the wedding, we gave her a beautiful house in the Boston suburbs, a detached house completely renovated down to the last detail. Thomas personally oversaw everything, investing hundreds of thousands of dollars in custom designs, carefully selected finishes, and the best contractors money could buy. When
the renovations were finished, he was so excited that he practically dragged me in to see the final result. But before we even went inside, an unmistakable shrill voice echoed throughout the house: “My God, is this neighborhood a prison? All the houses have their doors locked! How am I supposed to visit the neighbors if no one leaves their doors open? Curtis, go and tell them to be more neighborly and stop locking everyone out! And that front door—what the hell is that? It looks like a fortress, with the bars so tightly
shut it’s like we’re guarding a bank! What happens when our relatives come to visit? They’re supposed to wait outside like beggars! Curtis, get some workers and tear that ridiculous thing down!” I didn’t even need to see her to know; it was Curtis’s mother, Mrs. Miller. A slow, simmering anger began to… growing in my chest Curtis hadn’t contributed anything to this marriage, not a house, not a car, not even an engagement ring. Natalie had discreetly bought one so we wouldn’t notice. When they found out, instead of gratitude or shame, they mocked her. Calling Natalie
Wasting a ring was just a formality, they argued, why throw money away on something so unnecessary? And now, standing on the threshold of this house—our house—listening to this woman complain as if she were inspecting a run-down motel, I could feel my patience wearing thin. Natalie, ever conciliatory, tried to keep things calm. “Mr. and Mrs. Miller, there’s a wonderful community center nearby if you’re looking for company. There are game nights, social events, lots of opportunities to meet people.” Mrs.
Miller wrinkled her nose. “Card games? Please, do you think we haven’t played cards before?” Then, as if we were invisible, Curti’s parents wandered off to explore, glancing into the rooms, inspecting the furniture, acting as if they already owned the place. Not a single word of greeting, not a single glance in our direction. Natalie froze, caught between politeness and disbelief. Even Thomas, normally the most composed, seemed completely bewildered, noticing my expression.
He ran into a shadow and whispered, “Mr. Dawon, Mrs. Dawon, I know my parents can be lively, they just talk very loudly. That’s all, but please, I promise you they really love Natalie.” Before I could reply, a loud, booming laugh echoed from the master bedroom. “This is a lovely room,” Mr. Miller said. For a split second, I allowed myself to have hope. Maybe, just maybe, they finally appreciated what we had done for Natalie. Then my breath caught in my throat. There
was Mrs. Miller sprawled on the new bed as if it were hers, legs crossed and shoes still on. The fresh, starched sheets were already stained with dirt from the soles of her worn slippers. And beside her, Mr. Miller calmly lit a cigarette inside my daughter’s new house. Before I could speak, he pressed the burning end against the wooden nightstand, extinguishing it as if it were an old ashtray. A dark, charred mark immediately appeared on the polished surface.
Thomas’s jaw clenched so tightly With such force that I thought he was going to break a tooth, Natalie, visibly embarrassed, nudged Curtis, silently begging him to intervene. But he just lowered his head, shoulders slumped, looking like a scolded child. Not a word, not a single protest. And then, as if his audacity wasn’t already at its peak, Mr. Miller stretched out his arms, let out a sigh of satisfaction, and said, “This room is perfect. Lots of natural light and a spectacular view. We’ll take this one.”
I almost swore aloud. For a moment, I thought maybe I’d misheard. Maybe my ears were playing tricks on me. But they hadn’t quite entered my daughter’s house. They took a look around. And decided to take the master bedroom. “Take it, Natalie,” I said. The three of us froze, too stunned to speak. This wasn’t a misunderstanding. This was an invasion. Mr. Miller left the master bedroom, barely noticing us, and went to one of the smaller rooms. He scanned the space before nodding with apparent
satisfaction. “This is perfect. Ideal for our grandson.” He turned to Without hesitation, call your brother and tell him to cancel the contract. He and Yene should move in with Luca immediately. Then, as if the matter were settled, he continued, “We’ll put the house in Travis’s name so Luca will have a stable home when he starts school here. As for you and Natalie, you can come back to live here when you have children. Until then, there’s no rush.” I felt my patience running out. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, Tomas grabbed my wrist and…
She shook her head slightly. She wanted to see if our daughter could handle this on her own. If she couldn’t set boundaries now, what future could she possibly have with this family? I snapped and turned my gaze to Curtis. The boy who had always seemed polite, eloquent, and respectable in our presence stood there, head bowed, back hunched, uttering no word—a puppet without strings. Natalie, however, had reached her limit. Her voice turned cold. “This house was a gift from my parents, not a
boarding house for the whole family. Don’t you think you’re overstepping your bounds?” The room tensed. Mr. Miller’s expression darkened. A puff of smoke shot aggressively from his nostrils as his voice sharpened. “Your house?” he asked with a wave of his hand. “Do you really think this place belongs to you? It’s my son’s house, which means it’s ours, and you have the nerve to talk back to your future father-in-law before you’re even married? What do you think you’re going to do, throw us out when you have a ring on your finger?” He let his gaze sweep around
the room and then sneered. “Travis keeps spending money.” “For rent every month, this house is huge. It’s a shame to waste all this space. Why shouldn’t you move?” Mrs. Miller interjected instantly, her voice rising sharply. “I understand, it really is your wedding home. But honestly, isn’t it a bit ridiculous, two people living in a mansion?” She pointed to the smallest room. “What’s the problem if Luca stays here? You don’t even have children yet. Why leave such a
perfect room empty?” Then, as if this were some great act of generosity, she added, “We don’t want to take advantage of you, dear. We just don’t want you to go through difficult times alone. We came to help you, to support you. You should be grateful.” And then, as if sensing how icy our expressions had become, she turned her attention to Natalie and smiled. “Besides, you’re about to be my daughter-in-law. It’s only fair that you take care of us, cook, clean. You’re responsible for making sure we’re comfortable. Don’t you dare slack off just because you’re the bride.” My fingers closed
into fists. Natalie’s hands trembled at her sides. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. And yet Mrs. Miller wasn’t finished. “Honestly, looking at you, it’s obvious that…” You’re not a very good housewife. Why don’t you save yourself the trouble and ask your father to hire a maid to look after us? Natalie’s whole body stiffened, tears welled up in her eyes, but instead of falling they burned, fiery, furious. And then finally she lost her temper. If they want a house in the city, if they want to be looked after…
Pay me. Listen, this is the woman you’re going to marry. She talks like we’re beggars. Since when is her family’s money more important than ours? A marriage is about sharing everything. Don’t you understand? Curtis’s face paled, his voice rising in alarm. “Natalie, you can’t say things like that. Apologize to my parents.” Natalie’s sharp gaze turned to him, her voice as cold as steel. “Curtis, if you really think that, then take your parents and get out of my house. My parents bought me this, not you,
not them.” Curtis’s hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Natalie, come on. You always throw these tantrums, and I always let it slide, but couldn’t you show my parents a little respect?” Natalie yanked his arm away, turning her back on him completely. Mrs. Miller let out a bitter laugh. “You should be grateful you’re marrying a man like Curtis. You think you’re too good for us? Look at you. You’re selfish, spoiled, and a complete lack of respect. Frankly, I don’t think you’re good enough for us, not even.” “For my son,” he turned to Curtis, his eyes
blazing. “You see? Now he looks down on us just like all these people from City.” Natalie glared at him, her voice firm. “We’re not even married yet, and you’re already trying to claim what isn’t yours. That’s not family. That’s greed.” Curtis wiped his forehead, his face tense. “Natalie, that was very out of line. You have to apologize.” Sister Miller took a slow step forward, exhaling smoke in our direction. Her gaze fell on Thomas and me. In a mocking, distorted voice, she said, “Thomas, I have to ask you exactly how you raised
your daughter because I see a serious lack of discipline here. She has no respect or humility. She’s always saying ‘my house, my house.’ It’s exhausting to hear.” She took another drag of her cigarette and exhaled slowly. “You wouldn’t look down on country folk, would you?” She narrowed her eyes as she added, almost lazily, “You know, Curtis didn’t just become that way. He had to be disciplined as a child. Tough love, a real upbringing. That’s why he’s polite, hardworking, and humble. That’s why he has a future in the city.” She smiled, but it was a sharp, humorless smile. “When your daughter marries us, she’ll be with us too.”