My in-laws were so biased. Three years ago, when I married Ethan, my in-laws claimed they had no money. They couldn’t afford a house or even a wedding gift. So Ethan and I simply registered our marriage, hosted a small dinner for our friends, and called it a wedding. But the following year, when Ethan’s younger brother, Ryan, got married, things were drastically different. My in-laws bought him a three-bedroom apartment. Not only that, they gave his wife a wedding gift worth 180 thousand dollars and a lot of gold. I was furious. “How can you treat your daughters-in-law so differently?” I demanded. Their response left me speechless. “It’s not the same,” they said. “You and Ethan fell in love and got married out of feelings. Talking about money would tarnish that. “But Ryan met his wife through an arranged marriage. Without a house and a wedding gift, no one would agree to marry him.” Their words felt like a slap in the face. I exploded, arguing with them until they couldn’t defend themselves anymore. And when they ran out of excuses, they turned nasty. “Our money, our choice,” they spat. “We can give it to whoever we want. “We love Ryan more because he’s obedient and considerate. “And honestly, you’re shameless. You practically paid to marry Ethan!” I was stunned and burst out crying. All the understanding and generosity I’d shown them suddenly felt like self-degradation. That night, I packed my things, and went back to my parents’ home. From that day on, I refused to speak a single word to Ethan’s parents. It was Ethan who eventually coaxed me into returning. He made a promise. “From now on, it’s just the two of us. Anything you didn’t get before, I’ll make up for it. I’ll make sure you never feel wronged or unloved. I’ll always protect and cherish you.” I was naive and deeply in love, so I believed him. To his credit, Ethan kept his word. He treated me well, and slowly, my resentment eased. But I could never fully forgive his parents. I didn’t stop Ethan from maintaining contact with them, but as for me? The idea of honoring and respecting them was out of the question. Last year, when I gave birth to our daughter, Ethan called them to share the news. But they didn’t even bother to check on me or their granddaughter. It was my mom who traveled from out of town to take care of me during my recovery. Later, I found out that Ryan’s wife was also pregnant. My in-laws doted on her like she was royalty. Everything she or the baby needed was top-quality, and they paid for all of it. Sometimes, I genuinely wondered if Ethan was adopted. Why else would they treat us so differently? But over time, I let it go. Whatever they did to me, I would do the same to them.
I never expected it, but Ethan’s father fell ill. Even worse, his parents wanted to live with us, claiming that our place was closer to the hospital. It started with Ethan casually bringing it up during dinner the night before. “Zoey, we have an extra room. Can my parents stay with us for a while? It’s closer to the hospital,” he said, testing the waters. I refused without hesitation. After all, Ryan’s place was also in the city. The only difference was that it was an hour away from the hospital, whereas ours was just thirty minutes. But Ryan and his wife had a spacious three-bedroom apartment, while Ethan and I were crammed into a small one-bedroom unit. Plus, that extra room wasn’t meant for guests; it was for our nanny. Ethan and I both worked full-time, and my parents, given their age and health, couldn’t help with childcare. So, we hired a nanny to look after our daughter, Lily, during the day. If Ethan’s parents moved in, where would the nanny stay? And more importantly, who would look after Lily? I certainly didn’t expect his parents to lift a finger. “Why can’t they stay at Ryan’s?” I asked pointedly. Ethan hesitated before mumbling, “It’s Ryan and Emma… They don’t agree. Emma’s worried about Dad’s illness being contagious. Little Josh is just over a year old, and his immune system is still developing.” Josh was Ryan and Emma’s precious son. Hearing that made my blood boil. “Oh, so their child can’t risk getting sick, but ours can? Ethan, have you forgotten how they treated us? “Why is it that they get the comfort and we’re left with the burden? Are we just here to be taken advantage of?” I couldn’t hold back my anger and let Ethan have it. He eventually apologized and promised he wouldn’t make any decisions without my agreement. That managed to soothe me for the moment. But I had a gut feeling this wasn’t over. Sure enough, the very next evening, I came home from work to find three unexpected figures in our living room: Ethan’s parents and Ryan. For a moment, I thought I was seeing things. After all, it had been years since I last laid eyes on them. But a closer look confirmed it, and they were indeed here. Ethan looked up as I entered, clearly uncomfortable, and tried to play it off. “Zoey, you’re home. My parents and Ryan are here.” I nodded curtly, my mind racing. Did they just show up uninvited? Or did Ethan neglect to tell me? As I debated whether to greet them or not, my gaze landed on his parents, sitting on the couch like royalty, clearly expecting me to bow and scrape like a servant. Remembering all the times they treated me poorly, I simply turned on my heel and headed into the nursery. Inside, our nanny was putting Lily to sleep. She looked up as I entered and couldn’t help but vent. “Zoey, your in-laws are something else. That’s their granddaughter out there, and they didn’t even glance at her.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Lily didn’t recognize them and started crying. Your mother-in-law even complained about it being bad luck. I had to bring her in here right away. “Don’t worry. I’ve sanitized the room.” I didn’t tell her about Ethan’s father’s sickness. She probably overheard it when they discussed it this afternoon. My heart sank further when the nanny added, “I overheard them talking earlier. Sounds like they’re planning to stay here for a while.” I felt even more irritated. Before I could respond, Ethan walked in. “Zoey, can you make dinner? My parents and Ryan haven’t eaten yet.” The nerve of it all pushed me over the edge. How dare they ask me to cook for them? “Order takeout,” I snapped. The sharpness in my tone made me regret it immediately. It wasn’t polite, not in the slightest. But Ethan just blinked and replied, “All right.” That wasn’t good enough for Ryan, though. “What’s her problem?” he sneered. “Doesn’t seem like we’re welcome here. What kind of attitude is that? Who does she think she is? “Honestly, Ethan, how do you let her walk all over you? “No wonder Mom and Dad don’t like her.” I hadn’t planned to argue, but hearing Ryan’s increasingly obnoxious remarks, I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Oh? And who exactly do you think you’re talking about?” I stormed out of the nursery. “You came here to stir up trouble, didn’t you? Did I invite you? If you don’t like it here, you’re free to leave!” Ryan bristled. “This is my brother’s house. What does it have to do with you?” I laughed in disbelief. “And whose house do you think this is, genius? My husband’s house is my house. So yeah, it has everything to do with me.” Before I could unleash more, Ethan stepped in. “Zoey, that’s enough.” Enough? I wanted to scream. Why should I stay quiet while they disrespected me in my own home? But one look at Ethan’s conflicted face made me bite my tongue. Then, Ethan’s father cleared his throat and started theatrically lamenting, “What a disgrace. Truly a disgrace. Ethan, how could you let your wife behave this way? We’re your parents, not your enemies.” His mother chimed in, “If we’re not welcome, we’ll leave.” “By all means,” I thought. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” But Ryan, as always, played the loyal son. “Come on, Mom, Dad. Just endure it for now. Emma’s worried about Josh getting sick with you both going to the hospital every day. Once you’re better, I’ll come get you right away. “Ethan, take care of Mom and Dad.” And with that, Ryan bolted, leaving Ethan and me to deal with the fallout. I looked at them and felt utterly speechless. Ethan eventually managed to pull his parents back to the couch, promising them they could stay. His mother even threw me a pointed look and said, “Ethan, you wouldn’t turn us away too, would you?” “Of course not, Mom,” he assured her. Meanwhile, I turned and walked back into the nursery. Out of sight, out of mind.
Eventually, Ethan ordered takeout for his parents. I brought a separate portion to our nanny in the nursery. I wasn’t hungry. I’d already eaten at work, so I sat on the bed, mulling over the situation. I was not a heartless person. Sure, I had a sharp tongue, but I couldn’t bring myself to kick two sick, elderly parents out of my home. Even though they had treated me poorly, they were still family, and his father was seriously ill. If I turned them away now, my conscience wouldn’t let me sleep at night, and it might even put a strain on my relationship with Ethan. Because as much as Ethan’s parents had shown blatant favoritism, and as much as it had created distance between him and them, he was still their son. He was softhearted, and I knew he couldn’t bear to see them suffer. But our home was just too small. It was barely 850 square feet. Ethan and I shared one room, and the nanny occupied the other. What was I supposed to do, ask his parents to sleep in the living room? I decided to discuss the matter with Ethan. Maybe we could rent an apartment for his parents near the hospital. But there was no way I’d shoulder the cost alone. Ryan and Emma would need to split the rent with us. However, things took an unexpected turn. Ethan’s father was diagnosed with kidney failure. I looked it up online. It was not an easy illness to manage. The treatments were expensive, time-consuming, and grueling. He’d need dialysis three times a week, each session lasting four hours, a stopgap at best. The only real solution was a kidney transplant. And that would cost hundreds of thousands, not to mention the challenge of finding a suitable donor. For an average family, it was a devastating blow. A sense of dread settled in my chest. I had a sinking feeling that our household was about to be thrown into chaos. On the day of the diagnosis, Ethan was unusually quiet. That night, he stood on the balcony, chain-smoking. By the time he came back inside, his eyes were bloodshot. “Zoey,” he started, his voice trembling. “What am I supposed to do? My dad… he’s sick.” And then, before I could respond, the tears came. It was the first time I’d ever seen him cry. I didn’t know what to say, so I simply wrapped my arms around him and held him close. The idea of renting an apartment for his parents suddenly felt impractical. I sat down with our nanny and worked out a compromise. She would continue to come during the day to help with Lily but would sleep at her own home at night.
Ever since Ethan’s father fell ill, they’d been staying at our place. Three times a week, without fail, he’d go for dialysis. Ryan showed up a handful of times at the beginning, but his visits grew less frequent as the weeks went by. By the end of the first month, he had barely been around. He was clever, though, always sending sweet messages to their parents, keeping them smiling and in good spirits. But when it came to money, there was only dead silence. Neither Ethan’s parents nor Ryan brought up finances as if they had a tacit agreement to play dumb. Two months in, every single expense for Ethan’s parents, their food, shelter, and medical bills, had fallen squarely on us. I calculated it: we’d spent over 100 thousand. That was basically everything we had. After all, we’d only been married for a few years and had no financial support from anyone else. On top of that, we had to pay for our mortgage, car loan, and the nanny’s salary. With our daughter now in the picture, we also had to buy formula, diapers, and other baby essentials. We were barely breaking even each month. If this continued, we’d go broke. I told Ethan to ask his parents for money. He hesitated. I told him to ask his brother for help. He hesitated again. Watching him hem and haw, I snapped. “Are you going to ask them or not? If you don’t, I will. “This is ridiculous! All the assets went to Ryan, and now the burden of their illness is dumped on us? “Is your whole family just pretending not to notice because they think they can take advantage of us?” Despite Ethan’s protests, I called Ryan myself. As expected, the moment he realized I was asking for money, he started playing the victim. “You know Josh is only a year old. This is such an expensive time for us. My wife and I just aren’t as capable as you and Ethan. Can’t you two cover Dad’s medical costs for now? We’ll pay you back when we can.” I was speechless at the sheer audacity. “Ryan, let me remind you: your dad has two sons, not just one. When you got married, your parents bought you a house and a car, while we got nothing. Are you seriously suggesting that we bear all the responsibility now that he’s sick? “Since he fell ill, you haven’t contributed a single cent. Ethan’s the one taking him to every hospital visit. “If this is how it’s going to be, I’ll tell Ethan to drive his dad back to your place tomorrow.” That got him. “Please don’t! My wife will kill me if Dad comes back here. And you know how fragile Josh is. What if he catches something from the hospital germs? We can’t take that risk.” Unbelievable. How could these two be so selfish and stupid? So, only their child deserved protection while mine didn’t? I stood firm: no money, no deal. Ryan eventually transferred 20 thousand dollars. It wasn’t much, but at least it covered immediate needs. I thought I’d done a good deed. But instead, I ended up on Ethan’s parents’ blacklist again. It turned out Ethan’s parents were upset with me for asking Ryan for money. How had this become my fault? When I got home from work, Ethan’s father was sitting on the couch, his face dark as a thundercloud. His mother was pacing and sighing dramatically. “Oh, poor Ryan. He’s already struggling, and now he had to scrape together 20 thousand. What’s he going to do? “They don’t even have proper jobs. How could they possibly afford this? “It’s been so long since I’ve seen Josh. I hope the little boy is doing alright.” I ignored her muttering, but my silence seemed to embolden them. Their behavior only escalated as if they thought I was someone they could walk all over. That evening, I didn’t have time to stop by the store, so dinner was simple: two vegetable dishes, one meat dish, and some sliced sausage. I thought it was perfectly reasonable given the circumstances. But Ethan’s father didn’t agree. The moment he saw the table, he threw his fork down in disgust. “If you want us gone, just say so! No need to starve us with this garbage.” I was stunned. What was going on? “Can’t you cook something else? These taste awful, and they’re barely nutritious. You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”
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