It felt right.
It was a place filled with memories, and I wanted to send her off surrounded by the love she had built here.
Throughout the funeral, my husband stayed by my side. He made sure I was drinking water, gently urged me to sit down whenever I looked exhausted, and handled guests when I needed a moment alone in my grief.
I still found myself thinking, I am lucky to have such a caring husband.
But then, my mother-in-law Jessica arrived.
With a solemn expression, she approached me and said, “My deepest condolences. I sincerely sympathize with you.”
I nodded and forced a small, polite smile. “Thank you.”
Jessica and I never had a particularly close relationship. We didn’t live together, and our interactions were usually brief and formal. I had always appreciated the reasonable distance we kept.
But something about her presence that day felt different.
Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
After the ceremony ended, Jessica approached me again.
This time, she had an unusual expression, one that didn’t match the mood of the day. There was something unsettling about the way she looked at me.
She smiled almost too warmly and said, “We really appreciate your help with the funeral. Thanks to you, everything went smoothly.”
I was about to thank her, assuming she was simply being polite.
But before I could respond, she suddenly added in a casual, almost playful tone, “Well, now that the funeral is over, don’t you think it’s time to drop the formalities?”
I stiffened.
What did she mean by that?
For a moment, I thought she was just trying to lighten the mood, maybe encourage me to move forward. But as she continued speaking, I realized that wasn’t her intention at all.
She glanced around the house, her eyes filled with something I could only describe as admiration.
But not the sentimental kind.
It was more like someone inspecting a valuable piece of property.
“This is such a splendid house,” she commented, almost as if she were talking to herself.
I frowned. Something about her tone put me on edge.
“Wait a moment,” I started.
But before I could say anything else, she began walking deeper into the house, completely ignoring me.
My heart pounded in my chest.
What was she doing?
And then, all at once, it hit me.
This wasn’t just a visit to pay respects.
Jessica had come here for something else entirely.
I frowned. “Mom, this is really inconvenient. Some areas are still messy.”
My mother-in-law Jessica waved off my concerns as if they were nothing.
“Oh, don’t fuss over small details. What’s more important is that this house will be inherited by my son.”
She strolled through the house with an air of entitlement, casually scanning the rooms as if she were picking out a new wardrobe.
Then, stopping at one of the larger rooms, she mused, “Hm, I wonder if I should take this one.”
I felt my stomach twist.
“Mom,” I began, hesitating for a moment before gathering my courage. “Actually, I’m the one inheriting this house.”
Jessica smirked, clearly unfazed by my words.
“Oh, I know. But your parents didn’t have any other children, right? And doesn’t everything a wife owns ultimately belong to her husband? So in essence, this house belongs to my son.”
I let out a deep sigh, trying to control my growing frustration.
Was she really twisting logic to claim my family home as hers?
She clapped her hands together cheerfully.
“Anyway, from now on, let’s try to get along.”
I narrowed my eyes.
Something about the way she said that didn’t sit right with me.
Before I could question her, she confidently continued, “I mean, I’ll be turning this room into my own.”
My breath caught in my throat.
“Wait. Does that mean you’re planning to live here?”
Without a hint of hesitation, she replied, “Exactly. I’ve decided. A house this splendid shouldn’t go to waste with empty rooms. It makes perfect sense for three people to live here rather than leaving all this space unused, don’t you think?”
Then, as if to justify herself further, she sighed dramatically.
“Ah, finally. I won’t have to take care of my son all by myself anymore.”
I clenched my fists.
My mother had passed away recently, and yet here she was, talking about taking over my home as if it were just some casual arrangement.
Anger bubbled inside me.
Could she not see the pain I was going through?
Why was she saying such ridiculous things at a time like this?
Just as my patience was wearing thin, my husband Paul, who had been standing nearby, finally noticed the tension.
He quickly stepped in.
“Mom, what are you saying?”
His voice was firm, his brows furrowed in frustration.
“This isn’t the right time for this kind of discussion.”
Jessica, undeterred, rolled her eyes.
“Oh, why make such a fuss?”