After our honeymoon, Enric and I returned home, filled with excitement and ready to start our sweet married life together. But as soon as we arrived, an unexpected storm hit. My mother-in-law was apparently planning to take over the house my parents bought me as a wedding gift for me, intending to turn it into a wedding suite for Enric’s younger brother. I was stunned, my gaze shifting to Enric for support, but he only mumbled something vague about “family sticking together” and even tried to convince me to make this small sacrifice for his brother. “Enric, hurry up and unlock the door! I’m about to collapse!” The sound of the key turning in the lock echoed faintly, and the door opened with a soft click. The decorations from our wedding day greeted us, the roses still adorning every corner of the room. It was like stepping back into the joy of that day. I kicked off my shoes and rushed straight to the bedroom, eager to collapse onto the bed and indulge in a well-deserved nap. But as soon as I opened the door, I froze. Sitting there on our bed were my mother-in-law and an unfamiliar woman. For a moment, I couldn’t even find the words to speak, the sheer absurdity of the scene stealing my voice. My mother-in-law, quick to recover, stood up and greeted me with an almost overbearing cheer. “Oh, Mila, you’re back so soon! Let me introduce you. This is Leo’s girlfriend, Aria. She’s practically family now, your future sister-in-law!” The woman named Aria blushed shyly, her smile polite yet undeniably awkward. “So you’re Mila! I’ve heard so much about you from Leo. He kept talking about how beautiful and capable his sister-in-law was. Now I see he wasn’t exaggerating!” she said with a bright smile. Although I was deeply annoyed by their uninvited presence in my bedroom, especially their casual occupation of my wedding bed, I managed to maintain a facade of politeness. After all, they both seemed friendly, at least for now.
“What? You’re saying she’s staying here? In my home?” Before I could say another word, my mother-in-law hurriedly got up and clapped a hand over my mouth. “Mila, shh! Keep your voice down! Aria’s in the next room; she’ll hear you!” She cast a few nervous glances toward the doorway. I took a deep breath, trying to rein in my anger, though the effort made my chest ache. Forcing a calm expression, I asked, “Where exactly does that leave Enric and me? Are we supposed to just… move out?” “Mila,” she began, her tone suddenly plaintive, “Aria came all the way from another state to be with Leo. She has no family here or any friends to rely on. It wouldn’t be right to send her to a hotel when we’re the only people she can count on. And, well, I know it’s my fault—I haven’t been much help financially over the years. I couldn’t even contribute to my sons’ weddings…” Her voice broke as she trailed off, now spilling her grievances as though this were my problem to solve. Frustration swelled in my chest. Sure, Aria might be a newcomer here, but wasn’t I a new bride too? Did my needs suddenly not matter? I shot a glance at Enric, hoping for some support, but he was busy gazing at his mother with an expression of deep pity, entirely oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. Great. He was useless, too.
Before I could say anything else, Enric spoke up, stepping in to comfort his mother, “Mom, don’t say that. Seeing you like this… it breaks my heart.” Taking her hands in his, he looked at her with the kind of tenderness I had thought was reserved for me. I sat there, silent and seething, watching the scene unfold. After what felt like an eternity, Enric finally coaxed his mother into leaving the room. Now, with her gone, the space seemed unbearably quiet. Enric turned to me, shifting awkwardly as though rehearsing what to say. After a few false starts, he finally spoke, his voice almost pleading. “Mila, you know our family’s situation. I’ve been so lucky to marry someone as amazing as you, and now Leo’s found someone he wants to spend his life with too. I can’t just stand by and let his relationship fall apart. Please, just bear with this for a little while, okay?” He looked so desperate, his six-foot frame practically crumpled into itself, a shadow of the confident, vibrant man I had fallen in love with. I couldn’t help but think of the Enric I had first met, back when he was full of energy and charm.
We had met in college during a basketball tournament. Enric’s team had made it to the finals, and we girls were there to cheer them on. He stood out effortlessly, towering over the crowd with his athletic build. Through the loose fabric of his jersey, I could make out the faint outlines of his abs. On the court, he was unstoppable, each movement bursting with energy and precision. Every time he scored, the crowd roared, and my heart fluttered. What girl wouldn’t fall for a man like that? As if fate had plans for us, I was later chosen to join the cheer squad, giving me the perfect excuse to be near him. We discovered we were both from the same hometown, and conversations over coffee and shared meals quickly became a routine. Our mutual attraction was undeniable, though unspoken, until tragedy struck. Enric’s father passed away unexpectedly. The loss shattered him, leaving behind a man who was barely a shadow of his former self. Gone was the carefree athlete; in his place was someone drowning in grief. I couldn’t bear to see him like that. I clung to him, trying to pull him back into the light, until one night, after a few too many drinks, he finally let his walls down. That night, he showed me the side of himself he had kept hidden: the pain, the fears, and the vulnerability.
Enric came from a humble background. To be honest, it was more on the struggling side. He grew up in a cramped, 500-square-foot house in a small town, sharing the limited space with his parents and younger brother. His father picked up odd jobs wherever he could, while his mother, a traditional rural homemaker, took care of the household and mended old clothes to make ends meet. When Enric’s father passed away, it felt like the entire sky had fallen for their family. Hearing about Enric’s life, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of heartache and admiration. I pitied the hardships he had endured but respected the determination that drove him to earn a place at our prestigious university. His resilience struck a chord deep within me, and I wanted to be the light that pulled him out of the shadows. That was how we started dating. We became the quintessential campus couple, a pair envied by everyone around us. I believed wholeheartedly in his perseverance and dedication. Despite his modest family background, I never hesitated in committing to a future with him. That same belief was what made me relent when Enric pleaded with me to let Aria stay. I couldn’t ignore the desperation in his eyes, even though it grated against my own sense of fairness. Eventually, I agreed, on one condition: the arrangement was temporary. Once Aria and Leo were married, they would need to move into their own place because Enric and I still needed the house as our home.
When I married Enric, his family had next to nothing. They couldn’t afford wedding gifts or a grand wedding. I understood the weight he carried as the eldest son and never pressured him for more than he could provide. My parents, on the other hand, were deeply concerned for me. They wanted to ensure I’d have a stable future, so they fully paid for a house as a wedding gift for me. But in reality, it was meant to be our marital home. Even after the wedding, my parents funded our honeymoon, which Enric and I had just returned from, still basking in the joy of those precious days together. Now, the idea of letting someone else move into the house I had barely gotten to enjoy felt like a bitter pill to swallow. But for Enric’s sake, I held my tongue. When I finally agreed, Enric was overwhelmed, pulling me into his arms with tears brimming in his eyes. He kept apologizing, promising to make it up to me in the future. That night, we packed up and spent the night at his mother’s house. As soon as we stepped inside, the cramped space, outdated furnishings, and lingering scent of cooking oil made my stomach churn. But when I glanced at Enric, I swallowed my discomfort, choosing silence over complaint. After Enric’s father passed, he had a lot of burden because he was the eldest son. The bed creaked beneath me, the mattress sagging in places, and the damp quilt carried the faint scent of mildew. I closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep, but the night stretched on in restless misery. By the time morning came, my dark-circled eyes told the entire story. Enric noticed but hesitated to say anything, his guilt written all over his face.
After breakfast, we wasted no time heading to a nearby real estate agent. We both knew his family’s house wasn’t an option for me. It was impossible to live there long-term. Through the agent, we found a fully furnished apartment, move-in ready, and signed a three-month lease. I thought to myself, “Three months should be enough for Aria and Leo to settle their wedding plans.” By the end of the day, we had packed up and moved into the new apartment. Over the next few weeks, I grew closer to Aria. She was warm and sweet, always greeting me cheerfully. She often dragged me along for shopping trips, snacks, and walks. For a moment, it felt like I’d gained a sister I never had. In our conversations, I learned more about her. Aria was an orphan, raised in a welfare home. Her story moved me. This bubbly, carefree girl had so much courage to chase after love, despite the odds. She had known Leo online, and she had come all the way to this city for him, a bold and romantic move for someone with no one to rely on. Time flew by, and before I knew it, over a month had passed. One evening, as the whole family gathered for dinner, Leo stood up to make an announcement. “We’ve set the date,” he said with a smile. “Aria and I will be getting married at the start of next month.” All eyes turned to Aria, who sat across from me, her face lighting up. Her shy smile made her look delicate.
As the wedding day drew closer, Aria’s nervousness became more and more apparent. Feeling a mix of sympathy for her and a sense of familial responsibility, I spent much of my time with her. I helped with wedding preparations, trying to ease her anxiety and help her relax. One afternoon, while chatting, I casually asked Aria where she and Leo planned to live after the wedding. Her response left me frozen in place. “We’ll stay in the house I’m living in now, of course. Why do you ask?” she replied, her face showing nothing but innocence. Her words hit me like a thunderclap. Trying to stay calm, I repeated, “You and Leo will live in the house you’re in now?” “Yes!” Aria said, her tone cheerful, though her brows furrowed slightly as if wondering why I was so surprised. “Leo told me this would be our marital home. He even decorated it before I arrived; he covered it in red roses! Isn’t he thoughtful?” Watching her radiant smile as she spoke, I felt a chill seep through my chest. That evening, Enric had barely stepped through the door when I confronted him. “Enric, your brother is planning to use our marital home as his wedding house!” He froze, his expression puzzled. “Wait, what are you talking about? I don’t understand.” His confusion seemed genuine, which only deepened my suspicions. Could it be that he didn’t know? I studied his face, my mind racing. “I found out today while chatting with Aria,” I explained, detailing the conversation. As I spoke, I watched his face for any sign of recognition, but he just stood there, frowning in silence. Finally, I couldn’t hold back anymore. My tone turned sharp. “Enric, whether you knew about this or not, you know now. I don’t care whose idea this was, but you’d better give me an explanation I can accept.” The truth was, the moment Aria mentioned it, I had already guessed what was happening. It didn’t matter who orchestrated it; the goal was clear: they wanted my house for Leo’s marriage. Enric squirmed under my glare. “Honey, please don’t be angry. Let me go talk to Mom and Leo about it,” he stammered before grabbing his coat and rushing out without waiting for my reply.
t was almost midnight when Enric returned, looking utterly exhausted. He flipped on the light, only to find me sitting in the dark, waiting. “Honey, why aren’t you asleep? What are you doing sitting here?” “I’m waiting,” I said calmly, my gaze unwavering. “I want to hear what you’ve decided.” We locked eyes, the silence stretching between us like a taut rope. Enric opened his mouth, then closed it again, repeating the motion several times before finally speaking. “Honey, let’s just let Leo borrow the house for a little while.” “Borrow it?” My voice was ice cold. “For how long? Ten years? Twenty? Or maybe for the rest of his life?” “Come on, honey,” he said, his tone tinged with exasperation. “He’s my only brother, and it’s not like we’re homeless. We already have a place to stay. Can’t we just let him use it for now?” Enric pleaded with me for what felt like forever. I neither agreed nor outright refused, telling him I needed time to think. This wasn’t the Enric I knew. What had his mother and brother said to him to make him so willing to disregard my feelings? That night, I couldn’t sleep. My thoughts churned restlessly until I was pulled from them by the incessant buzzing of Enric’s phone. Annoyed, I reached for it to put it on silent. That’s when I saw it: a message from his mother. [Enric, how’s it going?] Curiosity got the better of me, and I opened their chat.
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