They say your first home as a couple is where your future begins. For Alex and me, it was a modest, sun-filled two-bedroom apartment that felt like a fresh chapter. We closed on it just three months after our wedding. While we both contributed to the mortgage, the down payment came primarily from my parents—a quiet, generous gift that reflected years of unconditional support.
It wasn’t just about money. That apartment was built on love, care, and the trust my parents had always given me. So when I sensed a little tension from my mother-in-law, Barbara, I brushed it off. At the bridal shower, she had walked through the place more like a critic than a guest. Her comments, although subtle, hinted at disapproval. “I’m sure your mother gave you this place,” she said with a half-smile. I let it go, not wanting to read too much into it.
When I suggested throwing a housewarming party, I was excited to celebrate this milestone with friends and family. I spent days preparing—cooking, decorating, and making sure every detail reflected our new beginning. The evening started beautifully: laughter, music, warmth. But then, Barbara stood up with a glass in hand.
She toasted us, her words sweet on the surface but edged with something else. Then she turned to my parents and said, “You’ll give this apartment to Katie next, right? She could use a place like this.” Katie, my sister-in-law, smiled as if it had already been decided. And then Alex added, “She really does need the space. We could stay with my mom. Your parents might help again.”
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