Jobless? Nope, Just Ruthless

By year's end, I'd closed a huge deal and snagged a $2.5 million bonus. The company even sent me on early maternity leave—nice perk for being eight months pregnant.

Pauline found me lounging on the couch. "Why aren't you at work?"

I cracked a joke. "Got fired. Guess I'll be stuck here playing housewife."

Her response? A slap across my back.

"Then get off and do the laundry! You're having a girl, not a son, and you think you can sit around like some princess?"

My husband, Logan, walked in right then. He just pulled her into the nursery.

Feeling hurt, I switched on the hidden cameras I'd secretly installed. I thought maybe he'd defend me.

Yeah, no. What I uncovered?

It was so much worse. Twisted secret after twisted secret.

Pauline hurled a grocery bag at me. A solid potato slammed into my belly, and a sharp pain shot through my abdomen.

"Julie Kane! I've been holding back for too long! You prance around all dolled up every day—anyone would think you're selling yourself on the street! No decent boss would keep someone as indecent as you!"

I froze.

Where was this coming from?

Three months ago, Logan told me she was coming to help since I was in my third trimester.

"I'm traveling a lot for work," he'd said. "I'll feel better if Mom's here with you."

It sounded reasonable. His promotion had him out of town constantly, and I was struggling to keep up. Besides, Pauline and I had always gotten along fine during her brief visits. So, I agreed.

At first, she was a saint—cooked every meal, wouldn't let me lift a finger.

"You've got a full-time job," she'd said. "No need to bother with cooking."

Honestly, I never expected the classic mother-in-law meltdown. But one joke—one stupid joke—and everything flipped.

"Don't you know to stand when an elder speaks? A girl with no father or mother has no manners!"

Her words cut deeper than any slap.

I lost my parents when I was fifteen. The first time I visited Logan's family, Pauline held my hand with tears in her eyes.

"I've always regretted not having a daughter," she'd said. "From now on, you're my own."

I believed her. I wanted to believe her. Even when we disagreed, I bent over backward to keep the peace.

So, why? Why had one careless joke turned her into this monster?

I was still processing her sudden outburst when Pauline kept going.

"Life in the city's expensive enough! Now all the burden's on Logan!"

Before I could react, she stormed over and slapped me across the back—so hard I tumbled off the couch. My knees hit the floor with a dull thud.

I instinctively cradled my belly, trying to explain, "Pau—"

I didn't even get her name out before she plopped onto the couch and—God help me—propped her smelly feet right on my back.

She leaned in, pressing her full weight down on me.

"What the hell are you doing?" I shouted in disbelief.

She scoffed. "Teaching you how to be a proper McCory daughter-in-law. I put up with you when Logan said you brought in money.

"But now? You're just a freeloader. Time to quit acting like you're somebody.

"And don't think I've forgotten! You threw out that whole pot of stewed chicken I made! Do you know how much that bird cost?"