Homeless and Rejected: How Karma Turned the Tables on My MIL’s Cruelty

MIL Refused to Let Me Stay at Her House after We Lost Our Home – 5 Months Later, Karma Had the Last Laugh on Her

Our home was damaged by a horrific fire five months ago, and my mother-in-law refused to let me stay at her place. However, when destiny turned the tables on her, a surprising turn of events allowed our family to come together again.

I’m Chloe. Hi. In addition to being the mother of two lovely boys, I have been married for ten years to an amazing man.

My world revolves around being a wife and mother, and I would sacrifice everything for my family. But not everyone, particularly my mother-in-law Lucia, has always had the same opinion of my family as I do.

I never truly got Lucia’s approval when I married her son. It was obvious right away that she had some misgivings. During our wedding, I once heard her whisper to a family friend,

“She just isn’t who I had in mind for him,” Though these remarks hurt, I attempted to ignore them and move on for the benefit of my spouse and our future family.

I tried everything to close the distance between us, even if it was cold at first. I threw lavish birthday parties, asked her around for dinners, and made sure she was always a part of the boys’ school events and milestones. However, the warmth I had hoped for never materialised.

My spouse used to remark, “You’re trying too hard, Chloe,” whenever he saw me hurriedly cleaning up before one of her visits. “Simply be yourself, and she will find your way.” However, I felt in my heart that I might never see her acceptance.

Then, a tragedy that struck our family last year put every relationship to the test. Our home was destroyed in a strange catastrophe close to the conclusion of the year. We were at a school recital on a typical evening, with the guys giddy with anticipation for their presentations. The catastrophe happened suddenly.

Our neighbour called me on the phone, her voice strained and anxious, saying, “Chloe, you need to come back right now; your house is on fire!”

Our hearts sank as we drove into our neighbourhood and saw the brightness of flames lighting up the night sky, so we hurried home right away. The house where we had created innumerable memories, our home, was on fire.

I stood there holding my husband’s hand while the fire department battled the fire, the shock of what was happening in front of our eyes numbing me even though the chill of the night was starting to seep into my bones.

When the fire was eventually extinguished and the chief approached us, we faced the reality of our predicament. With a sombre expression, he apologised. “The house is completely destroyed.” I was limited to nodding as the realisation of its significance gradually dawned on me.

We had nowhere to live. With nowhere else to go and the night quickly growing darker, my spouse made the suggestion, “Let’s head to my mom’s.” The guys need to sleep in a bed tonight because it’s late.

With a nod, we piled into the car, the boys still asleep in the backseat, not realising how bad things had gotten. I practiced my response to Lucia while we were driving, thinking that this crisis would finally be the patch that repaired our damaged connection.

I had no idea that the night would get even longer.

By the time we arrived at Lucia’s house, it was almost midnight. The air seemed frigid, echoing the cold fear in my heart, and the night was quiet. While I stayed behind with our sons, my husband knocked on the door.

Lucia opened the door, looking at our unkempt appearances and her expression shifting from perplexity to concern. She inquired, moving aside to let us enter, “What happened?”

My husband said, his voice breaking with passion, “There was a fire, Mom.” “The house is completely gone.”

“Oh my god,” Lucia exclaimed, covering her lips. I briefly caught a glimpse of the mother-in-law I had always dreamed about. Then she hesitated as we began to go inside, her demeanour hardening as her eyes locked with mine.

She said to my husband and the boys, “You can come in,” before turning her icy stare back on me. “Chloe, you must find another place,” I said.

My spouse’s cheeks flushed red with rage. “Mom, what are you discussing? Right now, in the middle of the night, our house caught fire! As their mother and my wife, Chloe will remain in this location.

Lucia firmly shook her head. “No, I already made up my mind. She is leaving.

My eyes stung with tears as I was stunned. My spouse continued to argue, his tone full of incredulity and rage, but Lucia remained unmoved. The boys sensed the stress and began to moan, tired and confused.

With a hardly audible voice, I eventually answered, “We’ll figure something else out.” We parked our car at a nearby rest area and spent the night there after leaving Lucia’s doorway. We arrived at a motel the following morning with broken hearts and spirits.

The next few days passed quickly as we dealt with insurance and tried to rescue what we could from the wreckage of our house. In the meantime, Lucia kept making increasingly offensive proposals to let us stay, without me. She even offered for me to spend the night in her garage. Every time, we declined.

Then karma got involved. A late-night phone call arrived five months later. It was Lucia, and there was shaking in her voice. “Chloe, I need help,” she murmured, her voice trembling with desperation. “A fire has broken out. My house has vanished.

A beat skipped in my heart. I had a twinge of pity in spite of everything. “Lucia, are you okay?”

Yes, everything is well with me. However, everything else is gone. Her voice cracked.

My spouse and I talked about it before inviting her to stay with us. The following day, she arrived, her eyes wide with the sight of our newly constructed but unfinished home.

“I appreciate it,” she muttered as she cautiously peered around the interior. “I—I am so grateful to you.”

“Lucia, don’t worry. I said, “You’re family,” feeling odd but correct at the same time.

Weeks passed, and Lucia continued to lend a hand whenever she could, painting walls and even sharing jokes with us at dinner. She eventually opened up during one of these dinners.

One evening, as we sat at the table, Mom remarked, “I’m so sorry, Chloe.” “For all things. I was in error. The way I handled you wasn’t fair to you.

“Thank you, Lucia,” I gently nodded in response. “Though it’s been difficult, I’m happy we’re here now.”

Although it wasn’t easy to move on from the past, her sincere attempts to atone for her mistakes helped reconcile old hurts. Instead of relying on hesitant tolerance, we were discovering a new kind of family dynamic based on respect for one another.

Now that I’m looking back, I consider all we lost in the fire. It went beyond material possessions like the sofa, mattresses, and clothing. It was about the kids’ school art projects, the family portraits, and the loss of security. Those items could not be replaced. However, despite everything we lost, we also unexpectedly had the opportunity to rebuild our family dynamics in addition to our home.

After her catastrophe, Lucia had some introspection and discovered humility in her vulnerability. And because of her humility, our family was able to unite, demonstrating that sometimes you have to lose everything in order to genuinely appreciate what you have.

Here’s another story you might love if you liked this one.

After finding out why, my mother-in-law insisted that I divorce my husband and threatened to ruin my life, but I could only blame myself.

Laura and Duane believe they are shaping themselves into their ideal bodies when they start taking diet pills. However, Laura finds out there’s more to the pills than she initially imagined when her mother-in-law sends her an unusual SMS.

I never really thought that all I knew about my marriage could be altered by a text message.

What made you desire to murder my son? Is it all financial gain?

The realisation that it wasn’t just any old message from an unknown number sent shivers down my arms. No, my mother-in-law gave it to me.

My heart was racing with panic, so I picked up the phone and called my husband.

I kept saying, “Pick up, Duane,” as I paced my bedroom.

There was still no response after three calls.

My mother-in-law, Colleen, didn’t like me. She was devoted to my daughter Danielle and my husband Duane. She couldn’t stand me, though. Colleen decided to call Dani Jessica after her own sister, which is how it all began when Dani was born.

However, Danielle was the name Duane and I had always wanted for our kid.

Hours after Dani was born, Colleen told me, “You’re so spoiled, Laura,” while holding her. “I’ve supported you whenever you needed me during your whole pregnancy. But this is one thing you can’t do for me.”

Anyway, Colleen has been aloof and chilly towards me ever since that day twelve years ago.

It had been just like any other morning. It was one of those rare Saturdays when Duane had to go for work, so I made him breakfast before he left.

He said, “Pack me some trail mix, please,” as he sipped his coffee. “I tend to snack more now that we’re on our diet pills.”

The same sentiment made me laugh.

My sister recently told me about her new diet pill fixation.

“Laura, you have to try them!” she exclaimed. “They’ve really helped me trim off the extra pounds I’ve been trying to get rid of.”

We spoke as I ordered the tablets. “Fine, but I’m going to make Duane do it with me too,” I remarked.

We have been taking two tablets with every meal since then. We had also started eating healthier. I was ecstatic and firmly thought they were effective.

At the kitchen counter, I was chopping fruit for Dani’s morning meal. My daughter went home for the weekend from college, but she didn’t live with us because she moved away to study.

I had to occupy myself till Duane picked up the phone. I was unaware of the topic his mother was discussing.

Perhaps it was time to head to Duane’s office, I reasoned. I felt strange and afraid about something, maybe Colleen’s text message and my husband’s unanswered calls.

Dani barged in with flaming eyes.

She put down her water bottle on the counter and yelled, “Why did you do that to Dad?”

I was stunned by her tone.

I paused, then asked her what was wrong, and she answered, “Mom!”

“Honey, I don’t know what’s going on!” I said, bringing the fruit tray nearer to her.

“Cease! “You’re the reason Dad is in the hospital,” she cried passionately as she blamed.

“Danielle, what on earth are you talking about?” Asking again, but with a firmer tone.

“I just got a call from Granny asking if Dad was still with me. I declined and mentioned that he had a job today. He was brought to the hospital, my grandmother informed me. You poisoned him, according to her.”

The fruit on the counter caught my daughter’s attention.

‘Poison’ kept repeating itself in my head. Although it was obvious that I hadn’t poisoned my husband, the truth was horrifying.

Then things happened very rapidly.

My mother-in-law didn’t pick up when I called her a few times.

Call your grandmother, Dani. What hospital is Dad at, please? Get into the automobile, please.”

Dani called Colleen right away, telling her that she would wait for her in the parking lot.

With bitterness, Colleen responded, “Don’t bring your mum.” “This is all her fault.”

It turns out that my hubby was suffering while we tried to get better physique. Duane had become ill at work, throwing up and had excruciating pains in his side. He had been brought to the hospital by his coworkers.

Colleen bombed me with, “It’s all because of those pills,” after she’d filled me and Dani in.

I said to her, “How did you find out?”

“Duane’s friend gave me a call,” she stated bluntly.

The visit to the hospital was hazy.

The doctor stated, “We found a high concentration of various substances in your husband’s bloodstream,” in a clinical but worried tone.

“Physicians do not endorse these programmes because of this. It seems that Duane’s health has been significantly impacted by the dietary supplements he has been using.”

I was overcome with guilt.

In particular, since I had been taking the medicines as well and was doing just great.

The accusation from my mother-in-law hovered like a black cloud over me as I went to my husband’s bedside.

Duane looked at me, his eyes unnervingly calm, not angry.

I said, “Honey, I’m so sorry.” “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I could feel my emotions welling up as I stared at him with the IVs cuffed to his arm.

Warm yet with a feeble grip, Duane took my hand.

“Yes, Laura,” he remarked. “I understand that you’re taking them too; it wasn’t intentional on your part. However, it must end. “What if you also become ill?”

I gave a nod.

“However, your mother believes that I intentionally hurt you. How can this be resolved?” Knowing that Colleen was in the hallway with Dani, I inquired.

I prayed she wasn’t attempting to persuade my kid that I had purposefully poisoned Duane.

“After we give her an explanation, we’ll go on. My mother is merely confused and afraid, but nothing is wrong.”

I gave him a smile. Even though we were both aware of Colleen’s feelings for me, he needed to know that I would still try.

Duane’s recuperation progressed slowly, with challenging talks with Colleen.

While we were in the kitchen preparing soup for Duane, I told Colleen, “You must understand that I had no intention of this happening.”

“So how did he obtain those medications?” she enquired.

“Because we were sharing them between ourselves. They worked for my sister, and she swore by them. Duane and I therefore desired to try them.”

“Are you okay?” Unusually for Colleen, she asked.

Indeed, I’ve experienced no negative consequences. But I vowed to quit taking them once Duane made me.”

Spooned soup into bowls, she nodded.

After that, my mother-in-law and I walked on thin ice. I knew she was concerned about Duane, but I was also. She’s less icy towards me now, but she still keeps her distance.

But it’s okay, we can at least have this strange chat now.