Jen’s husband, David, and his mom, Margaret, took off to Dubai with cash from Jennifer’s wallet, leaving her stuck at home with the kids

Jennifer considered it. David’s offer wasn’t perfect, but it was a step up from the status quo. If he paid from his own pocket, not their shared funds…

“I have conditions,” she said finally. “We sign a formal lease. With a clause that if payments are late by more than two weeks, the lease is void.”

“Why so strict?” David grimaced. “Because I don’t trust your mother,” Jennifer said bluntly. “I want legal grounds to evict if she starts playing games.”

David stared at the table, as if it were a battle line. “Fine,” he said at last. “But the lease can’t humiliate Mom.

No clauses like ‘evict with belongings’ or anything harsh.” “I’ll draft a standard lease,” Jennifer nodded. “Same as for any tenant.

No humiliation, but no leniency.” “Deal,” David extended his hand across the table. Jennifer hesitated, then shook it.

His hand was cold, tense, like the air between them. The lease was drafted and signed. Margaret maintained an air of wounded dignity, refusing to look at Jennifer during the signing.

With David, she was extra sweet, constantly thanking him for his support. Jennifer ignored the theatrics. Results mattered.

Her mother-in-law was committed to paying rent, even if not the full amount, meaning they could start saving for Tommy’s surgery. But Jennifer knew this victory was a temporary truce. The real issue ran deeper.

Her husband couldn’t prioritize his new family over his mother’s wishes. That realization gnawed at her, poisoning even the rare moments when she and David found common ground. Soon, what Jennifer secretly expected happened.

Margaret paid the first month on time, the second a week late, and by the third, the usual excuses began. “You see, Jenny,” Margaret said in a syrupy tone over the phone, “I hit a little snag. Had to help a friend, she’s in a tough spot, couldn’t say no.

Can I pay a bit less this month? Say, $400. I’ll cover the rest next month.”

“No,” Jennifer said firmly. “We agreed on $1,000 monthly. If your $600 isn’t enough, ask David for his $400, but I expect the full amount by the fifth.”

“How heartless you are,” Margaret sighed. “Tormenting an old woman over money.” “That money is for your grandson’s treatment,” Jennifer reminded her.

“I won’t deny him surgery for your comfort.” A pause, then an irritated: “Fine, I’ll talk to David.” The call with David came as expected.

He stormed home late, kids asleep, face red with anger. “What did you say to Mom?” he demanded. “She’s in tears.

Says you threatened eviction.” “I said I expect the full amount by the fifth,” Jennifer replied calmly.

“As per the lease we all signed.” “But she’s genuinely struggling. She helped a friend with medical bills.”

“And who’ll help our son?” Jennifer crossed her arms. “Your mom helps friends when she’s got cash, but pinches pennies for her own grandson.” “You’re unfair,” David raised his voice. “Mom’s always helped us, watched the kids, cooked.” “When it suits her,” Jennifer interrupted.

“But when it’s about money for Tommy’s treatment, she’s got other priorities.” They stood on opposite sides again, and Jennifer realized with piercing clarity that this would never change. No matter what, David would always defend his mother’s interests.

Always justify her actions, even when they hurt his own kids. That’s when she made her final decision. “I’m filing for divorce,” she said quietly.

David froze mid-sentence, staring in disbelief. “What?” “I’m filing for divorce,” she repeated, stronger. “I can’t and won’t stay in a marriage where my husband puts his mother’s interests above our kids’ health.”

“You’re crazy,” David paled. “Destroy our family over money?” “Not money,” Jennifer shook her head. “Betrayal.

You betrayed us, David. Me, Emily, Tommy. You chose your mother, and that’s your right.

But I choose my kids, and that’s mine.” “You can’t just…” “I can,” she cut him off. “And I will.

Tomorrow, I’m filing. And starting the property division. We have little besides the mortgage.”

David smirked, as if that were a point in his favor. “Exactly,” Jennifer nodded. “And we have two kids who need a father who’ll fight for them…