When my husband and I drop by his childhood home for Christmas dinner, my mother-in-law, Melissa Potter, is the only one busying away in the kitchen. Everyone else is on their phones.

I've just taken a seat when Melissa begins to lecture me.

"What, are you just going to sit your ass down and wait for food to come? Don't you know when to lend a helping hand? Am I supposed to exhaust myself for your sake?"

From time to time, she keeps rattling the pots and pans loudly.

"I can't believe those with healthy bodies want a 70-year-old like me to serve them! Does anyone here have any conscience?"

Feeling a little uneasy, I gave my husband a tiny nudge.

"Why don't you help Mom out?"

After Melissa hears my suggestion, she gets even more pissed off.

Thinking that this is my first Christmas with my in-laws, I don't really want to cause a scene here, so I get up to my feet and help her out.

But the moment I enter the kitchen, Melissa delegates all the tasks to me.

I endure my fury as much as I can while finishing the Christmas dinner preparations. When I'm about to head back to the dining table and dig in, Melissa suddenly speaks up.

"Hold up. We got scores to settle before dinner."

I was surprised. What was my mother-in-law, Melissa Potter, talking about?

My confusion was soon answered when she set a small stack of receipts on the table.

"The Christmas dinner tonight costs 652 dollars," she said flatly. "We need to split the bill."

They were even splitting the bill for Christmas dinner? Was this family so distant and estranged from each other?

Despite feeling a little uncomfortable at that thought, I didn't pay much heed to her words. After all, it wasn't like they would count me in when dividing the bill, right?

Besides, the gifts I had bought for everyone already cost tens of thousands of dollars. Going after me for a little over 100 dollars would be strange and ridiculous.

We had traveled for hours to get here, and after cooking up a feast, I was starving. Hence, I didn't hesitate and immediately helped myself to the food.

Unexpectedly, Melissa smacked my hand away and shrieked, "Have you no self-control? You haven't even paid for the meal yet, you pig! Cough up 326, now!"

I thought I had misheard her. "326? I'm supposed to pay half?"

"Yes!" Melissa answered, as though it were the most reasonable thing in the world. "You're an outsider who married into our family. Don't think you can just eat for free!"

The word "outsider" stabbed deep into my heart like a thorn. The gifts I bought had totaled over 40 thousand dollars, an amount enough to pay for dozens of feasts like this.

Yet, she was pestering me for a few hundred dollars and even thought of me as an outsider.

"Mom, since I married your son, that makes me family," I said. "How could you call me an outsider?"

I tried hard to suppress my fury as I added, "Even if we have to split the bill, it should be divided evenly among six people! There's no way I'm paying for half!"

Melissa glared at me, her lips curled into a sneer. "You're paying me for this meal! End of discussion!"

Upon realizing that the situation was turning sour, my husband, Shawn Zink, quickly grabbed my arm and urged softly, "Honey, forget it. It's just 326 dollars, right? I'll pay Mom. Making a scene like this on Christmas will just make us a laughingstock."

"No!" Melissa jumped to her feet, her saliva spraying as she yelled, "Shawn Zink, if you still consider yourself my son, then you're not allowed to pay for her! She has to fork out the money herself!"

She then rushed to the couch where I'd left my handbag and began rummaging through it aggressively.

"Mom! How could you just dig through my bag? What if something inside goes missing?"

I sprang up, barely able to hold back my fury. Still, a hint of anger had seeped into my tone.

Nonetheless, Melissa didn't stop. She even went as far as to dump everything in my bag onto the ground, screaming, "Well, it's your own fault for refusing to pay! So what's wrong with me getting the money myself?"

I tried to yank my bag back, but Melissa refused to let go.

Our tug-of-war ended when the strap tore with a sharp rip, sending the bag crashing to the floor. The force of the impact deformed the metal accessory adorning it.

My mind went blank.

"Do you have any idea how much that bag cost!" I shouted.

That bag had cost me over 100 thousand dollars, and to even qualify to buy it, I had to spend close to 120 thousand dollars more. I had only just gotten my hands on it, only for her to ruin it.

Melissa planted her hands on her hips and retorted, "I don't give a damn how much that cost. All I know is that you have enough money to buy a bag, yet you refuse to pay for the Christmas dinner. You're absolutely shameless!"

"And you're being unreasonable!" I snapped back.

I bent down to pick up the bag and stared at the damage. Sheer, unadulterated fury surged through me. "I'm not paying for this meal, and that's final! In fact, I won't even eat the food! What can you do about it?"

With that, I stormed off to grab my luggage with the intention of returning home.

Shawn chased after me and grabbed my arm.

"It's too late to go home now, especially since my house is in a rather remote area," he said quietly. "Since it's too dangerous to leave right now, let's only return tomorrow morning, okay?"

I was both mentally and physically exhausted, so the idea of having to spend several more hours on the road wasn't appealing to me either. Hence, I reluctantly agreed to stay. I doubted that Melissa could stir up much trouble in one single night.

With that thought, I headed straight to our room.

Not long after, Shawn snuck a plate of pasta into the room so that I wouldn't go hungry. His action eased some of my resentment toward him.

The next morning, I woke up bright and early to pack my things, ready to go back home. However, when I opened my suitcase, I realized that the property deed was gone.

I distinctly remembered stuffing it into my suitcase since I had only just received it right before I started packing for the journey here.

How could it be missing now?

Noting something off with my expression, Shawn asked, "Honey, what's wrong?"

"The property deed is gone," I answered with a scowl.

Wendy Zink, Shawn's younger sister, happened to walk past the room at that moment. She immediately bristled and shouted, "Jennifer, what do you mean by that? Are you saying that our family stole your property deed?"

Upon hearing that, Melissa also started throwing a tantrum. "Shawn, just what kind of woman did you marry? As if it isn't bad enough that she wants to freeload, now she's even accusing us of being thieves! How outrageous!"

Caught between a rock and a hard place, Shawn grabbed my arm while attempting to defuse the situation.

"Mom, don't be mad. Jennifer never said you all stole it."

He turned to me next. "Honey, don't get so worked up, okay? Maybe you accidentally dropped it when packing your things and didn't bring it here."

That wasn't entirely unlikely. Not wanting to stay there any longer and endure more humiliation, I swiftly dragged Shawn home. Arguing with them was a waste of time.

Unfortunately, I didn't find the property deed at home either. Left without a choice, I could only prepare the necessary documents to apply for a replacement.

However, several days later, I received a call from an unfamiliar number.

"My family wants to move into the house you sold me, so I need you to give me the keys."

Bewildered, I asked, "What did you say? When did I sell my house? Did you call the wrong number?"

The man on the other end of the line had a terrible attitude as he retorted, "What, are you trying to stiff me? I already transferred you the 800 thousand, and I have the property deed as well!"

He then sent me a photo of the property deed. Seeing my name on it, I realized it was indeed none other than the one I had lost.

I was so infuriated that I was momentarily breathless. That house was worth at least 1.8 million, yet it had been sold for a mere 800 thousand, and I hadn't even gotten a cent!

From what the man revealed, I gleaned that it was Melissa who had sold him the house, and they were even relatives.

As I suspected, Melissa had indeed stolen the property deed from my suitcase.

I immediately called her. "Who said you could sell my house behind my back?" I demanded.

Instead of feeling even the slightest bit guilty, Melissa sounded smug when she answered, clearly delighted that she had gotten one over me.

"So what if I sold it? You refused to pay for Christmas dinner and even talked back to me. I simply thought I needed to teach you a lesson!"

"That's my premarital property! It has nothing to do with the Zink family! What you did is theft! It's illegal!" I screamed back, so incensed that my whole body was shaking.

"Illegal?" Melissa scoffed and began spouting her twisted logic. "You're my son's wife, which means what is yours is his, and what is his is mine! How is it illegal to sell what belongs to me?

"Either way, I already sold the house and received the money. Did you seriously think I wouldn't know how to handle that spoiled, rich girl temper of yours?"

I tried to keep my patience and hold back, yet Melissa kept pushing my buttons. Since it was pointless to argue with an unreasonable woman like her, I decided drastic measures were needed and called the police.

When I arrived at the police station closest to their home, Melissa was already throwing a fit.

The instant she spotted me, she lunged forward and tried to slap me. "You bitch! How dare you call the police!"

Shawn also rushed over, his lips twisted into a scowl. "Jennifer, that's my mom! How could you be so heartless?"

I didn't even hesitate as I shoved Melissa away before levelling a cold stare at Shawn. "You didn't even make a peep when your mom made things difficult for me at the Christmas dinner. Now, she's stolen my property deed and sold my house, and you suddenly have the guts to criticize me?"

His expression darkened further at my words.

Melissa kept yelling that she wasn't a thief and that what she sold was simply her own property.

Not wanting to waste any more breath on them, I showed the police the documents proving the house was my premarital property. If I were to pursue the matter, then Melissa would have to face legal consequences.

Melissa knew nothing about the law, and neither did the relative who bought the house. They both thought that the deal was done as long as they had the property deed. They had no idea that there were legal processes one had to go through when it came to buying and selling a house.

Thus, their transaction was invalid, and the house was still mine. If I didn't pursue the matter, Melissa wouldn't need to go to jail.

Realizing that, Shawn pleaded with me desperately, saying that his mother was already old and couldn't possibly be able to handle a prison sentence.

At first, I ignored him, but then he fell to his knees before me. After he swore that he would never let me be humiliated again, I reluctantly agreed to let the matter go.

Even so, I still decided to move out of our marital home. I needed some space to think about whether it was necessary my marriage to Shawn was worth saving.

…

Upon returning to our marital home, Shawn clung to my suitcase and apologized nonstop.

"I really didn't know Mom would do this," he said. "She knows that she was wrong now. If you don't want to go back there, we can just not go next time. Honey, please! Don't be like this, okay?"

I didn't waver. All I did was tell him that I wouldn't divorce him if Melissa had truly learned her lesson and stopped making things difficult for me. In any case, what I needed right now was some space.

Following that, Shawn tried to prove his sincerity through his actions. Every day, he would drove me to work and picked me up afterward. He would also cook for me.

Life was peaceful for a while. It seemed like Melissa really had stopped her campaign against me.