When my mother-in-law insisted on hosting my kids for a holiday break, I thought it was harmless—grandma bonding time and a little breather for me. What I didn’t expect was the gut-wrenching discovery that would change everything about how I saw her.
I’m Abby, 34, and I’ve been married to my husband, Brad, for seven years. We have two kids: Lucas, 8, and Sophie, 6. My mother-in-law, Jean, is in her late 60s. We’ve always had what I’d call a cordial relationship—polite smiles, small talk, the occasional dinner invite.
Woman and her mother in law preparing dinner | Source: Midjourney
But Jean has always been… intense. There’s this energy about her, you know? Like she’s trying to prove she’s the perfect grandmother, but she can be controlling.
“She’s just old-fashioned,” Brad would say with a shrug whenever I mentioned it. “She means well.”
I tried to believe that. For years, I brushed off the little things. Her insistence on calling Lucas her boy or the time she scolded Sophie for eating with her hands, saying, “Not under my roof, young lady!”
Senior woman having dinner with her grandchild | Source: Midjourney
But when Jean called me last month, her voice cheerful, and asked, “Abby, how would you feel about me taking Lucas and Sophie for a whole week during their holiday break?” my stomach did a tiny flip.
“A week?” I repeated, caught off guard.
“Yes! I’d love to have them all to myself—just spoil them rotten. You and Brad could use the time, couldn’t you? A little break?”
I glanced at Brad, who gave me a thumbs up. “They’ll have fun,” he added.
“Okay,” I agreed hesitantly.
Woman on phone | Source: Midjourney
She practically squealed with excitement. “Oh, don’t you worry about a thing, dear. They’ll be in good hands.”
Before sending them off, I gave Jean $1,000 for their expenses.
“Jean,” I said as I handed her the envelope, “this is just to make sure you don’t have to dip into your savings for food or anything they might need this week.”
She looked surprised at first but then beamed. “Oh, Abby, that’s so thoughtful of you! Don’t worry, I’ll put it to good use. These kids are going to have the best week ever.”
Woman handing an envelope to her mother in law | Source: Midjourney
The week crawled by, slower than I expected. I thought I’d enjoy the quiet, but I found myself reaching for my phone to call Lucas and Sophie more often than I should have.
When the day finally came to pick them up, I was practically vibrating with excitement. I couldn’t wait to see their little faces and hear about their week. But as I pulled up to Jean’s house, I felt uneasy.
The house looked the same as always, but something felt… wrong. Maybe it was just me being silly. Or maybe it was the way Jean opened the door.
“Abby! You’re here!” she greeted me with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Senior woman opening her door | Source: Midjourney
“Hi, Jean! How were they?” I asked, stepping inside.
“Oh, wonderful,” she replied, her voice shaky. But something about her demeanor felt… off. She was too cheerful, too composed like she was holding onto a script.
I glanced around the house, expecting to hear the usual chaos of toys clattering or kids yelling. But the house was silent. Dead silent.
“Where are the kids?” I asked again, glancing around the empty living room. Normally, by now, they’d be running to me with hugs and excited stories.
Anxious woman in a large living room | Source: Midjourney
Jean’s smile didn’t waver, but something was unsettling about the way she clasped her hands together. “Oh, they’re inside,” she said breezily, gesturing toward the house. “They’ve been so busy today—lots of work.”
I frowned. “Work? What kind of work?”
Jean chuckled nervously and waved her hand like I was being silly. “Oh, just little things. Helping out their grandma. You know how kids are, always eager to lend a hand!”
Senior woman smirking | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t know what she meant by “work,” but her tone was off—too sweet, too dismissive. My motherly instincts kicked in, and I felt uneasy.
“Where exactly are they, Jean” I asked, my voice firm now.
Her eyes darted toward the hallway, then back at me. “In the backyard,” she said finally. “They’ve been helping me with the garden. They’re such little troopers!”
I didn’t wait for more excuses. I followed the faint sounds of voices to the sliding glass door. As I stepped outside, the cool air hit me, but it did nothing to stop the wave of dread washing over me.
Anxious woman in the backyard. | Source: Midjourney
“Lucas? Sophie?” I called out.
Then I saw them. My heart sank.
Lucas and Sophie stood there, their small faces smeared with dirt, their eyes filled with exhaustion and relief as they clung to me. Lucas’ clothes were worn and covered in stains, and Sophie’s shirt had a tear on the shoulder. Neither outfit looked familiar—certainly not what I had packed for them.
Boy and girl digging in the garden | Source: Midjourney
“Mom!” Lucas gasped, throwing his arms around me. Sophie followed, her tiny frame trembling as she buried her face into my side.
“What is going on here?” I demanded, turning to Jean, my voice shaking with anger. “Why are they out here like this? They were supposed to be having fun, not working!”
Lucas looked up at me, his voice quivering. “Grandma said we had to help. She told us if we worked hard, we’d go to the park… but we never went, Mom.”
Sophie added, “She made us dig all day, Mommy. I wanted to stop, but she said we had to finish first.”
Exhausted little girl standing in the garden | Source: Midjourney
I turned to Jean, who was now standing a few feet away, her arms crossed defensively.
“Jean!” I shouted, my voice breaking. “You promised me you’d spoil them this week, not turn them into laborers! What is this?!”
Jean’s face flushed, and she shifted awkwardly on her feet. “Oh, don’t exaggerate, Abby,” she said, her tone dismissive. “They were eager to help. And why not? A little hard work never hurt anyone. They’ve learned valuable lessons about responsibility and discipline.”
Senior woman arguing with her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney
“Responsibility? Discipline?” My voice rose, trembling with rage. “They’re children, Jean! They’re supposed to be playing, laughing, being kids—not breaking their backs in your garden! How could you think this was okay?”
Jean threw up her hands, her voice defensive now. “They need to learn that life isn’t all fun and games! You’re raising them to be spoiled, Abby. I was just trying to help!”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I couldn’t let my anger consume me, not in front of the kids. But I needed answers.
Disappointed woman | Source: Midjourney
“Jean,” I said, my voice low and controlled, “where’s the $1,000 I gave you for groceries and activities?”
She hesitated, her gaze darting toward the ground. “Oh, I didn’t need to use it for groceries,” she said, forcing a casual shrug. “The kids didn’t need all that food. And I thought… I thought I could use the money for… other things.”
My stomach churned. “Other things? What do you mean by that?”
Jean’s face turned red as she mumbled, “I… I didn’t use the money for the kids. I’ve been struggling with my bills, and I thought if I could get some help with the house and the garden, I could save some money.”
Senior woman arguing with her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. The betrayal hit me like a punch to the gut. “So, you used my children as free labor?” I said, my voice trembling.
She flinched but didn’t deny it. “It wasn’t like that, Abby,” she insisted, her voice defensive. “I thought it would be good for them—teach them hard work.”
“Hard work?” I repeated, my voice rising. “They’re kids, Jean! I gave you that money so you could give them a week of fun and memories. Not… this.” I gestured toward the backyard, where Lucas and Sophie sat on the porch, their small faces pale and weary.
Tired boy and girl sitting on the porch | Source: Midjourney
It hit me then—this wasn’t just about the garden. Jean had always tried to exert control, to show she knew best, and now she’d dragged my kids into her twisted sense of right and wrong.
I knelt in front of Lucas and Sophie, pulling them into my arms. “I’m so sorry, babies,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “This isn’t what I wanted for you.”
I stood, turning back to Jean, whose head hung low in shame. “Jean,” I said, my voice steady but sharp, “we’re leaving. My kids deserve to be kids—not workers in your garden.”
Guilty senior woman talking to her daughter in law | Source: Midjourney
Her lips trembled as she stammered, “I… I thought I was doing the right thing.”
I shook my head. “No, Jean. You didn’t.”
Without another word, I picked up Sophie, took Lucas by the hand, and led them into the house to gather their things. We were done here.
As we stepped outside, the crisp evening air hit my face, a stark contrast to the suffocating tension inside Jean’s house.
Woman walking away from her mother-in-law’s house | Source: Midjourney
Lucas clung tightly to my hand, and Sophie nestled into my arms, her head resting on my shoulder. Their silence was heavier than words, their little bodies weighed down by exhaustion.
“Please, Abby,” Jean called after us, her voice cracking. “Don’t be angry. They’ve learned so much. It was just… it was just a mistake.”
I stopped and slowly, I turned to face her. She stood in the doorway, her expression a mix of desperation and guilt. For a moment, I considered responding, but what could I say that would change anything? The damage was already done.
Guilty senior woman standing in her doorway | Source: Midjourney
“No, Jean,” I said finally, my voice firm but calm. “This wasn’t a mistake. This was a choice—a choice you made without thinking about what they needed. They’re children, not tools to fix your problems or lessons to prove your point.”
Jean opened her mouth to reply, but I shook my head, cutting her off. “I trusted you. And you broke that trust—not just with me, but with them. I won’t let this happen again.”
She looked down, her face crumpling, but I had no room for her regret at that moment. My kids needed me.
Woman walking away with her children | Source: Midjourney
As I walked to the car, Lucas finally broke the silence. “Mom?”
I looked down at him, my heart aching at the uncertainty in his voice. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Are we ever coming back here?” he asked softly.
I tightened my grip on his hand and said, “No, buddy. Not until Grandma learns how to treat you the way you deserve.”
Sophie stirred in my arms, whispering, “Good.”
And with that, I buckled them into the car and drove away, leaving behind the house, the garden, and a part of my trust I’d never get back.
Children inside a car | Source: Midjourney
If you liked this story, here’s another you’ll enjoy: “My MIL asked me to help cover her debt—What I discovered left me horrified.”
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided as “is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
My Parents Demanded That I Get Married to Keep the Family Business, So I Chose a ‘Fresh-off-the-Farm’ Girl to Spite Them
My wealthy parents demanded I marry to inherit the family business, so I chose a “country girl” to spite them. But soon, I discovered she was hiding a powerful secret.
I’ll admit it. I’m not proud of how I started all this. I wasn’t looking for love, not even close. I just wanted to get back at my parents.
You see, I’ve always lived the way I wanted, with no strings. Parties, fast cars, expensive vacations. And why not? My family was wealthy, and I knew I’d inherit my father’s business one day.
A serious young man | Source: Pexels
But then my parents sat me down for “the talk.”
“Listen, Alex,” my father said, leaning forward like he was discussing a business deal. “Your mother and I feel it’s time you settle down.”
“Settle down?” I scoffed, leaning back with a smirk. “You mean get married?”
“Precisely,” he said with a nod, not breaking eye contact. “You’re almost 30. If you want the company, we need to see some commitment. That means a wife, a family. You can’t run a business like this alone.”
A serious man talking to his son | Source: Midjourney
My mother chimed in, shaking her head. “Your father worked his entire life for this, Alex. We can’t trust the future of the business to someone who treats life like a party.”
I was fuming. They wanted a marriage, so I’d give them one. If they thought they could push me around, I’d prove them wrong. I’d find someone who’d make them question their own demands.
And that’s when I met Mary.
A country woman | Source: Pexels
Mary wasn’t from the usual places where I met women. I found her volunteering at a quiet charity event. She looked modest, maybe even shy, with a simple dress and her hair tied back. Nothing flashy, no designer clothes, just calm and… real.
When I introduced myself, she just nodded and said, “Nice to meet you, Alex.” She barely looked at me, like she wasn’t impressed at all.
A couple meeting for the first time | Source: Midjourney
“So, uh, where are you from, Mary?” I asked, trying to gauge her story.
“Oh, I’m just from a small town,” she replied with a polite smile. “Nothing fancy.” Her voice was soft, and her eyes seemed guarded.
Perfect. Just perfect.
“So, Mary,” I began, cutting right to the chase. “How do you feel about marriage?”
She raised an eyebrow, looking surprised. “Excuse me?”
“I know it sounds strange,” I said, forcing a confident smile. “But I’m looking for someone to marry. I… have my reasons. But you will need to pass several ‘tests’ first.”
A black and white photo of a serious man | Source: Pexels
Mary looked at me, expression unreadable. Then she laughed, surprising me. “Well, isn’t that funny,” she said, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t place. “I was just thinking I could use a little ‘marriage’ myself.”
“Really?” I said, surprised. “So, is it a deal?”
Mary studied me, then shrugged. “Alright, Alex. But you have to promise one thing.”
A young woman talking to a man at a charitable event | Source: Midjourney
“What’s that?”
“No questions about my past, and I’ll keep it simple. Just a girl from a small town, that’s all they need to know. You good with that?”
I grinned, hardly believing my luck. “Perfect.”
When I introduced Mary to my parents, they were horrified. My mother’s eyebrows shot up as she took in Mary’s plain dress and quiet demeanor.
A shocked middle-aged woman | Source: Pexels
“Oh… Mary, is it?” Mom said, trying to mask her disapproval with a tight smile.
Dad’s frown deepened. “Alex, this… this isn’t exactly what we had in mind.”
“Well, you wanted me to settle down,” I replied, unable to hide my grin. “And Mary’s perfect for me. She’s calm, humble, and doesn’t care about all this fancy stuff.”
A smiling relaxed man | Source: Pexels
Mary was pulling it off. Every time she answered politely, every time she acted uncertain around our “society talk,” I knew my parents were dying inside.
But then… something about her stayed a mystery. She was perfect for my plan, yet every so often, I’d catch a look in her eye, something almost… amused.
“Are you sure this is what you want, Alex?” she’d asked me once after dinner with my parents.
A concerned woman talking to a man at a dinner party | Source: Midjourney
“More than ever,” I said, laughing. “They’re horrified, Mary. This is working.”
“Well,” she said, her voice soft, almost too soft. “Glad I could help.”
I was so busy watching my parents’ reactions that I didn’t look too closely at Mary’s. Not yet, anyway.
An arrogant young man at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney
The night of the charity ball finally arrived. My parents had spared no expense: a grand hall glittered with chandeliers, tables lined with white silk cloths, and silverware that could feed a small country.
Mary walked in beside me, her simple dress and quiet elegance making her look out of place among the sequins and high heels around her. Exactly what I’d wanted.
A woman in a simple dress | Source: Pexels
“Just remember,” I whispered, leaning close to her. “Tonight’s the final test.”
She looked up at me, her expression unreadable. “I know the drill.”
As the night went on, I stayed close to her, watching as she spoke softly, smiled politely, and never called attention to herself. My parents threw her a few concerned glances now and then, but I could tell they were hoping she’d just blend into the background.
People at a charity event | Source: Freepik
Then, out of nowhere, the mayor himself approached us, his face breaking into a broad smile.
“Mary! I’m delighted to see you here!” he exclaimed, reaching out to shake her hand.
My parents’ jaws nearly hit the floor. I blinked, trying to make sense of it. The mayor knew Mary?
Mary’s smile was polite, but I noticed her discomfort. “Good to see you too, Mayor,” she replied, a little stiffly.
A woman talking to the Mayor of the city | Source: Midjourney
“You know, everyone’s still talking about that children’s hospital project you funded,” the mayor continued. “Your family’s contributions are still making a difference.”
Mary nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. We just want to help where we can.”
The mayor finally moved on, leaving us in stunned silence. My mother was the first to break it, looking at me with wide eyes. “Alex… what was that about?”
A skeptical woman at an event | Source: Midjourney
Before I could respond, Jack, an old family friend, walked over with an astonished expression. “Mary! It’s been ages since I last saw you. I didn’t know you were back in town.”
Mary forced a small laugh. “I, uh, didn’t exactly announce it. I came back for my… wedding,” she said.
Jack turned to me, his face half-amused, half-incredulous. “Alex, you’re marrying Mary the Charity Princess? Her family’s one of the largest philanthropists in the state!”
An amused man at a charity event | Source: Midjourney
My mouth went dry. Charity Princess. I’d heard the name, of course. Everyone had. But I had never bothered to meet her or even look her up.
The moment we could slip away from my parents’ glares, I pulled Mary aside to a quiet corner. “So… Charity Princess?” I asked, crossing my arms.
She sighed, glancing away. “Yes. My family owns the biggest charity fund. They run in these circles, but I don’t. I’ve been avoiding all this for years.”
An awkward woman talking to a man | Source: Midjourney
I ran a hand through my hair, still trying to wrap my head around it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because,” she said slowly, “it’s the same reason you didn’t tell me you wanted a ‘fake’ marriage to spite your parents. I have my own reasons, Alex.”
“You knew this was fake all along?” I asked, trying to sound calm, but my voice gave me away.
A shocked man in a suit | Source: Freepik
She took a deep breath. “I got sick of my parents pushing me to marry someone for status. I wanted my own life, without all the expectations. When you came along, I figured I could help you and solve my own problem at the same time.”
“Let me get this straight,” I said, still amazed. “You agreed to this whole thing because you’re trying to escape your family’s expectations, just like I am?”
Mary nodded. “Guess that’s one thing we have in common.”
A young man talking to a woman at an event | Source: Midjourney
I stared at her, realizing for the first time how much I didn’t know about her. This wasn’t some naive “country girl” here to make my parents uncomfortable. She was intelligent, strong, and just as independent as I was. Maybe more.
My original plan suddenly felt childish. While I’d been playing games to annoy my parents, Mary had been quietly navigating a world she didn’t want to be part of, giving up her family’s wealth and influence to stand on her own two feet. She’d agreed to my ridiculous scheme just to win her freedom. I couldn’t help but respect her for that.
One evening, as we were going over some plans for the charity events my mother insisted we attend, I caught myself watching her. She looked up, catching my gaze. “What?”
A couple in love | Source: Midjourney
“I just… I guess I didn’t realize how strong you were,” I admitted, feeling surprisingly nervous. “You put up with all this, and you never once complained. You’ve done more than I would’ve in your position.”
Mary smiled, a little softer than I’d ever seen. “I’m not doing it for them,” she replied. “I’m doing it for me.”
a smiling young woman writing in her journal | Source: Midjourney
And in that moment, I realized my feelings had shifted. What started as a plan to shock my parents had become something else entirely. I respected and admired her, and, yes, I wanted to be with her for real.
“Mary,” I said slowly, “maybe it’s time we told them the truth.”
A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
She nodded, understanding exactly what I meant. We weren’t just playing a game anymore.
The next day, we asked our parents to sit down with us. As we prepared to reveal everything, I felt a strange calm. I wasn’t worried about what they’d say. I just knew that, for once, I was ready to do things honestly and with Mary by my side.
A happy couple | Source: Pexels
Liked this story? Consider checking out this one: When a wealthy, emotionally distant man offers shelter to Lexi, a homeless woman, he’s drawn to her resilience. Their unlikely bond begins to grow — until the day he walks into his garage unannounced and discovers something disturbing. Who is Lexi really, and what is she hiding?
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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