My Husband Believed Their Lies, So I Showed Him Truth

From the very beginning, they had never truly seen me as family.

Maybe it was because I had lowered myself to marry into their home.

Call it self-pity, the worst mistake of my life.

“Fine. If you don’t say it, then I will.”

All these years, only my mother-in-law knew the truth about that house.

Three years ago, she promised the deed would bear my name, that I would have the final say in this home.

Even then, I knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

Still, she treated me well.

She did the laundry, ran errands, cooked for us.

She never meddled in our private lives.

Because of that, I chose to keep the truth about the house buried.

My brother-in-law scoffed, “Say what you want. You’re just being stubborn.”

“Exactly. Hand over the money, and we’re good. If not, prepare to go down to the station!”

“I don’t mind. Let’s go.”

The bigger the scene, the better. I had nothing to hide.

My mother-in-law panicked and quickly tried to comfort me.

“Audrey, don’t listen to them. I’m on your side.”

I smiled coldly. “Anyone can make promises with words, just like the one you gave me back then, remember?”

At that, her face stiffened with embarrassment.

After a moment’s pause, she finally turned to me.

“How about this: you just pay 800,000 for the house, alright?”

“Mom, are you serious?”

My brother-in-law immediately grew upset. “We agreed you’d cover 1 million, and we’d take care of the rest. Now you’re making us pay another 200,000? Who can afford that?”

My mother-in-law quickly explained, “You can’t look at it that way!”

“This time, the villa’s deed will be under your name. What’s wrong with paying a little more?”

“You really think you can get everything and still complain?”

Her words finally quieted them down.

My brother-in-law sulked but didn’t argue further.

His wife, too, kept her mouth shut.

I narrowed my eyes at her and asked, “Why would the property deed be under his name?”

She stammered, “Well, their side is paying more than yours. Isn’t it fair for the deed to go under their name?”

“I see. So that’s how you really think.”

Everything made perfect sense now.

From the moment she promised me that house three years ago when she said the deed would be in my name, I should’ve known it was all part of a long con.

And clearly, that performance has continued until today.

“So even if I fork over the full one million, the deed still belongs to him, right?”

“This…”

My mother-in-law faltered, unable to come up with a decent excuse.

Even she probably realized how shameless it sounded.

Then came that familiar voice. “What are you trying to say now? You won’t even put in 800,000, yet you still expect the deed to be in your name?”

She clicked her tongue. “Here’s some advice: be kind and learn to appreciate what you have!”

I couldn’t hold back a laugh.

Be content? The nerve of her to say that.

“Enough, enough. Buying a house isn’t that urgent,” my mother-in-law chimed in, trying to de-escalate.

“We’re all one family here. Let’s just sit down and talk things through calmly.”

I knew deep down she only stopped them because she didn’t want me to expose the truth behind everything.

“This is my bottom line. I hope you all remember that.”

Just as I was about to close the door, my brother-in-law yelled, “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

But before he could barge back in, my mother-in-law yanked his arm and forcefully dragged the couple away.

Marlon sat stiffly on the couch, face cold and unreadable, not saying a word.

I stood in front of him and asked, for the first time in our entire relationship, “Do you believe me or your mother?”

His reply came without hesitation, cold and indifferent. “What do you think?”

“If I told you I didn’t take a single cent from that house, would you believe me?”

Marlon shook his head. “No.”

“Alright. I get it now.”

I turned around and went back into the bedroom to start packing my things. While folding my clothes, I said calmly, “Let’s get a divorce. I can’t stay in this house for another second.”

Marlon rushed over and grabbed the suitcase, trying to stop me.

For a moment, I thought maybe it was because he still cared. Maybe our years together meant something.

But then he snapped coldly, “You can leave, but not until you hand over the house money.”