My Mother-in-Law's Schemes Nearly Broke Us

Ethan’s mother, my mother-in-law, Margaret Shaw, is actually his stepmother.

When Ethan was three, his biological mother divorced his father, and when he was five, Margaret came into their lives.

In Ethan’s own words, Margaret treated him like her own son.

And after his biological mother left, never to return or even contact him, Margaret became his whole world.

So much so, that when he was ten and heard someone say Margaret wasn’t his real mother, he got into a violent fight, his head bleeding badly.

Margaret cried for days, unable to recover from the heartbreak. She held him tightly, repeatedly telling him, "You are my real son, don’t listen to anyone else."

It was from that moment that Ethan found his strength in Margaret, and since then, he could not bear to hear anyone speak ill of his mother. If they did, he’d fight them fiercely.

Because of Ethan’s intense reaction, no one dared to speak out of line about Margaret from that day on.

It wasn’t until Ethan was eighteen, about to leave for college, that Margaret finally told him the truth one night before he left.

Ethan said he couldn’t sleep that night.

The next morning, he told Margaret, “I don’t care. You’ll always be my real mother, no matter what.”

Margaret held him tightly and cried loudly.

From then on, their relationship grew even stronger.

Ethan would say, “Margaret’s love and care for me went beyond what any ordinary mother would give. I owe her my gratitude.”

I met Ethan in college.

We dated for four years, got married five years ago, and now, at thirty, after nearly ten years together, I can say Margaret has been nothing but good to me.

She celebrates Christmas and birthdays, always sends red envelopes with gifts, and calls regularly to check in.

My own mother has never been so thoughtful.

So, when Margaret and Ethan brought up the topic of money, Ethan agreed without hesitation, and I was on board with it.

Of course, I knew it was also necessary to gently remind Ethan of our own situation.

We’ve spent most of these years working away from home, and aside from sending gifts during the holidays, we haven’t been able to offer much help to Margaret or his father.

Ethan’s half-brother, on the other hand, has stayed home since graduating from college and has been looking after their parents.

And we’ve had no plans to go back to the old house anytime soon.

Both Margaret and his father have retirement pensions, so they really don’t need our help.

Ethan and I both agreed that since Margaret had only asked once, we couldn’t disappoint her.

Of course, we had our own motives.

After all, we’re both thirty now, with a two-year-old child, and still don’t own a home. We’re still sending our child to my parents’ house and only picking him up on weekends.

We had originally planned to save up for a down payment by the end of the year, but we couldn’t possibly give all our money away.

Our principle has always been to give what we can within our means.

After Ethan transferred the money to Margaret, he visibly relaxed.

Amused but also feeling a little sorry for him, I fixed him a late-night snack. “Alright, eat up. Tomorrow we’ll be back at it, working hard to make money and save.”

“Yeah, it’s tough on you, Honey.”

“Stop talking like that! We’re a family. Tomorrow’s Friday, so let’s go pick up our son.”

“Okay.”

When there’s hope in life, the days become meaningful.

The year flew by, and before we knew it, it was Christmas time.

Ethan and I, with our child, packed up and headed to Shaw's home.

Landon Shaw was there to meet us at the airport.

But instead of taking us back to the old house, he drove us straight to his new place.

Landon explained, “Dad and Mom are at the old house. It was torn down a few months ago.”

My heart skipped a beat.

The demolition of the old house had been talked about for years, but nothing ever came of it.

A few months ago?!

How come Ethan’s parents never mentioned a word about it?

It seemed that all the compensation from the demolition went to Landon.

I also remembered Margaret asking Ethan for money to help Landon buy a house, and a sharp pang of discomfort pierced my chest.

I glanced at Ethan, but he was happily asking Landon, “The house was demolished? When did that happen? I didn’t hear a word from you guys.”

Landon stammered, “A few months ago… we did mention it. Didn’t you hear?”

Ethan froze for a moment, then quickly changed the subject.

The bitterness inside me was close to overflowing.

It seemed they not only kept the demolition money a secret, but now they were trying to count on our savings.

But it was almost Christmas, so it wouldn’t be right to start a fight.

I sighed. The old house was Ethan’s parents’ property, and how they divided it was none of our business.

When we arrived at Landon’s new house, the sting in my heart deepened.

Ethan and I had been married for so many years and still hadn’t bought a house. We had planned to buy one last year, but...

Feeling down, I couldn’t bring myself to do much. I was sluggish, not wanting to lift a finger.

Margaret, on the other hand, was as cheerful as ever, showing no sign of any cracks in her fa?ade.

Sometimes, I think this is what mastery looks like.

She subtly pushed us out of the picture while making us feel grateful to her.

That night, I couldn’t hold back and whispered to Ethan, “Your mom is something else! And your dad is way too biased! They don’t even tell us about something as huge as the house demolition.”

Ethan’s face darkened, but he didn’t respond.

I poked him. “What? No response? Does it bother you to be made a fool of?”

Ethan waved his hand in annoyance. “Alright, it’s just money. Why are you still going on and on about it?”

The frustration that had been building up in me finally burst out. “Ethan, this ‘little bit of money’ is enough to buy a house or a car. We’ve been saving for years, and still can’t afford one. You think it’s not important? Hah, if you don’t care, then why don’t you just take it and buy us a house? And don’t forget, our son’s growing up. We can barely fit in this tiny rented place.”

“Why are you yelling? I was just trying to get the conversation over with. If my parents hear you, it won’t be good.”

I glared at him, my anger flaring. “All you ever do is talk about your mom, your mom, your mom. You’re so loyal to her, but look how she’s scheming against you now. Go ahead and join her.”

Ethan lunged at me, covering my mouth with his hand. “Please, can we not fight? I’ll wash dishes for a whole year. Please, don’t make a scene. We did the right thing. If we turn this into a fight, we’ll be the ones losing out. Honestly… I didn’t expect things to go down like this.”

I couldn’t help but laugh through my tears. He had a point. We were just trying to do the right thing, and now if we caused a scene, it would make everything worse.

“Fine, fine, sleep. But remember what you said — you’re washing dishes for a year.”

That night, my frustration lingered. This Christmas just didn’t feel as lively as it usually did.

Everything felt... flat.

Just as we were preparing to head back to Meadowfield City, Margaret had an accident.

That day, both my child and I were feeling under the weather with a bad cold.

We had planned to visit Ethan’s aunt for New Year’s, but with our cold, it seemed better to stay in for the Christmas holiday.

So, only Ethan, Landon, and his parents went.

Ethan had always been close to his cousin, so he ended up drinking a little more than usual.

When they came back, Ethan wasn’t with them.

On the way back, there was a car accident.

His father and Landon only had minor injuries, but Margaret had multiple fractures.

I didn’t hear the news until the next day.