My daughter-in-law crossed her arms. “We never actually needed the space for a family. We just thought it would be easier if you moved out so we could have the house to ourselves. My mother needs a place to stay now, and this arrangement works best for us.”
I felt the air leave my lungs. My own son—my own son—had let me believe I was giving them the house so they could build their future, start a family, create a home. Instead, they had just wanted me gone.
I turned to him. “Is this true?”His face reddened. He looked away. “Mom, we didn’t mean to hurt you. We just… we thought it was time for you to downsize anyway.”
Downsize.It wasn’t their house to decide what to do with—it had been my home, the one I built with his father. I had left it for him, believing I was doing something good. And now, I was hearing that I had been manipulated, that my kindness habeen taken advantage of. Read more below
