My Husband Asked Me For My Inheritance, But I Said No. During My Business Trip, He Called And Told Me He Had Made A Decision About My Parents’ House. I Stayed Calm, Because THERE WAS MORE TO THE STORY.

My husband called me saying, “I demolished your house.” I laughed because that house was…

“Finally, I’m free from that burden. Starting today, my parents are moving in with me at my house.”

When my parents passed away, my husband Scott demolished our family home and stood in front of its site. He blurted out, “Hurry up and bring the inheritance to our place.”

I stood there in shock and asked, “What are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?”

At his words, I couldn’t help but laugh. I realized what this was all about.

“Why are you laughing? Don’t you understand?” Scott and my in-laws looked at me puzzled.

That’s when I told them the truth.

My name is Amy Jackson. I was born the eldest daughter of ordinary office-worker parents. I have one brother, and we were a very normal family. I married Scott when I was 30, and we had two kids. Balancing work and parenting, I suddenly found myself at 52.

My son Eric and daughter Judy had grown up to be adults, each living on their own and starting their careers. Now was the time to relax with my husband. It was an ordinary life, but I was happy. I thought I would continue to age like this, but my simple life changed one winter day.

My father was in a car accident and suddenly passed away. He was only 68 at the time. Our whole family was overwhelmed with grief, especially my mother, who was so depressed she couldn’t even eat.

“Mom, Mom, I know it’s hard, but you have to eat,” I told her again and again.

“I know, but I just don’t have the appetite. It feels like there’s something stuck in my chest,” she replied.

My brother and I thought she was just emotionally distressed and watched her for a while. However, she rapidly lost weight in just three weeks. Worried, I took her to the hospital.

The diagnosis from the doctor was shocking.

Cancer.

The cancer was advanced, and surgery wasn’t an option. She had about a year left to live.

I hadn’t had the chance to really take care of my parents yet. When I thought I had lost my father, now my mother was facing this illness. I was even more devastated than when my father passed, but I couldn’t grieve forever. My brother lived far away and couldn’t help, so it was up to me to take care of my mother.

I told Scott that I wanted to live with my mother. I couldn’t leave her alone, both emotionally and physically, during her illness. But Scott’s reaction surprised me.

“We just finished dealing with your dad’s funeral, and now I have to be dragged into more of your family’s issues?” he said with a sigh, clearly annoyed.

“You don’t have to say it like that. Can’t you just drive her to the hospital and back? Do we really have to live with her?” I asked. “I think she might feel lonely. If it’s not okay, maybe I can just live at my family home for a while.”

Scott became indignant.

“And who’s going to take care of my meals while you’re gone? I’ll come and cook, of course. What about cleaning? Who’s going to do the laundry?” he demanded.

I fell silent. I intended to do what I could, but I couldn’t do everything as before. Being confronted with this reality hurt. If someone said I was being selfish for wanting to care for my mother, I wouldn’t be able to argue back. I’m sure my mother, being considerate, would say everything is fine as it is, but I really wanted to do something for my parents.

“Fine, but I’m not helping with anything, you hear?” Scott grudgingly said to my silence.

His attitude was arrogant, but he had ultimately agreed.

“I’m sorry, and thank you,” I said.

Although I thought he was being awful, he had agreed to my wish. I suppressed my desire to argue back and thanked him.

Despite the trouble, Scott and I started living with my mother at my family home. We had originally been living in a house provided by Scott’s employer. Scott was an only child, and since his father really wanted us to live together, we didn’t plan on buying our own home. We were going to eventually move in with Scott’s parents. Living in the company housing was more convenient for work, and the rent was only about $11,000 a month, so it wasn’t a big burden.

But now that we’ve moved to my family home, we don’t have to pay that anymore, and we have more space. I think living together wasn’t all bad for Scott. True to his word, Scott didn’t help with anything, but I’m glad I could live with my mother. She seemed energetic, but she often felt weak and spent a lot of time lying down during the day. I prepared her meals, fed her, and managed her medication. It would have been impossible for her to do all that alone.

“I’m sorry, Amy. Thank you. It’s a big help that you’re here with me. I should thank Scott too,” my mother said, expressing her gratitude many times.

She was unaware of the harsh words Scott had said about living together, so she was grateful to him too.

One evening, after my mother had gone to bed and Scott returned home, I brought up the subject of my mother’s treatment while serving dinner. Scott glared at me and said, “I don’t know what you want me to say. I told you I’m not helping with anything,” refusing even to listen.

I needed someone to vent to, someone to consult. All I wanted was for Scott to listen. Even after two months, three months, Scott’s attitude didn’t change. He constantly complained about living together, acting as if he was doing a great favor, and his behavior became more obnoxious day by day. But I couldn’t say anything against it. Between worrying about my mother and being considerate of Scott, I was becoming more stressed.

Around the time of the two-year prognosis, my mother’s condition worsened rapidly, and she was hospitalized. Five days later, she passed away. Although I had prepared myself mentally, I was devastated. My brother’s family and my children came right away and helped a lot, but in times like this, you really want your spouse by your side.

However, Scott was laughing and chatting with his parents in a corner, not helping with the funeral preparations at all.

My brother had taken the lead role in the preparations, and somehow we got everything ready for the funeral. But Scott, who should have been sitting in the family section, was at the very back of the relatives’ section.

“Scott, I want you to sit in the family section,” I said.

He replied, “No, I’m fine here. I’m not a blood relative, after all.”

“But you’re my husband,” I said.

Then his mother chimed in, “He’s your husband, but he’s not your mother’s son. Scott is our son, so he’s an outsider, you know. Amy should sit in the family section.”

Hearing this from my in-laws was painful. I was left speechless. Where I come from, it’s common for sons-in-law to sit in the family section at funerals, though this might vary by area. With Scott not in the family section, distant relatives started whispering, wondering if we had divorced. It’s one thing for people to gossip, but all this could have been avoided if Scott had just sat there.

Feeling a bit upset that Scott wasn’t by my side, we still managed to see my mother off peacefully.

After the funeral, my brother’s family, my children, Scott, and his parents returned to my family home.

“Thank you for coming, especially at such a busy time,” I said to my in-laws, offering them some tea.

They laughed and replied, “Really, it’s something. First your father, now your mother. These funeral expenses are a burden for us too, but at least that’s the end of it.”

I was stunned by their words.

What do they mean by that?

I couldn’t believe they would say such a thing. I forced a smile and excused myself. Then I overheard Scott talking with his parents.

“It must have been tough for you, Scott, living with outsiders.”

“Yeah, dealing with Amy’s whims was a pain. A husband shouldn’t just follow his wife’s demands. If you don’t like something, you have every right to refuse,” Scott said.

I clenched my fists. Their voices laughing and chatting were unbearable.

But this wasn’t new.

Scott’s parents had always been insensitive and rude. When Scott and I got married, his mother said, “Couldn’t you find someone more attractive? I can’t expect much for grandchildren.”

His father joked, “They say beauty gets boring after three days. With Amy, you won’t get bored.”

And Scott just laughed.

Reflecting back, neither Scott nor his parents had said a single comforting word to me either at my father’s funeral or after my mother’s passing. Instead, they ridiculed me. I had felt sorry for imposing on Scott, but now I questioned his behavior as a person. I had been too concerned about Scott while just wanting to do right by my mother. I realized I shouldn’t have felt so guilty toward Scott, especially since he wasn’t supportive.

While I simmered in anger, Scott and his parents continued to laugh and chat in another room. If my brother’s family and my kids had heard them, they would have been upset, but fortunately they were in the kitchen. I was relieved to be the only one who heard Scott and his parents’ conversation.

Then my mother-in-law spoke up.

“Amy,” she called.

“Yes?” I replied, startled.

“Can I have this?” she asked, holding my mother’s purse.

Confused, I stammered, “Oh, well…”

“Your mother won’t be needing it anymore, right? Scott suggested I take it home. Maybe I’ll just keep it,” she said, holding up the purse and inspecting it.

I couldn’t believe her audacity, especially right after the funeral. I took the purse from her and said firmly, “No, you can’t.”

Her expression changed, not because of the purse, but because I, her daughter-in-law, stood up to her. Yet I stood my ground.

“We’re not ready to sort through my mother’s belongings yet. We’ll distribute her keepsakes among the family later.”

My mother-in-law turned red with anger.

“What do you mean? Are you saying I’m an outsider? You said earlier at the funeral that even Scott was an outsider to my mother. How come Scott is an outsider, but your family isn’t?” I retorted.

Hearing this, Scott and his father also turned red.

“What are you saying? Apologize to Mom. How disrespectful of a daughter-in-law to talk like that.”

Their commotion drew everyone from the other room. I didn’t expect to be called an outsider. After all the effort we put into attending the funeral, “Let’s go home, Dad,” my mother-in-law shouted at me in front of everyone and stormed out of our house.

For some reason, even Scott was angry and left with his parents.

“What happened? Did you really call your mother-in-law an outsider?” everyone asked me, having heard only her side.

Taken out of context, it might have seemed like I was the one being harsh, but I explained the situation to everyone, and not a single person blamed me.

“Grandpa and Grandma should be more considerate of other people’s feelings.”

“That’s just how Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa have always been.”

My children sided with me, but I still couldn’t forgive those three. Scott hadn’t come home for a while since that day, and I hadn’t contacted him either. I didn’t think I should be the one to apologize, and I wasn’t sure if I could forgive him even if he did.

But I knew things couldn’t stay this way forever.

Then one day Scott came back.

“Welcome home,” I greeted him, suppressing the anger that flared up at the sight of him.

“It’s been tough, huh?”

His gruff words were an attempt at showing concern, and I was taken aback.

“Take the kids and go on a trip. It’ll be a good change of scenery for you,” he said, handing me travel vouchers.

I was speechless. Instead, tears started to stream down my face. It might have been the kids’ idea, but I was touched that Scott went along with it. I immediately contacted the kids to plan the trip.

“Really? Dad suggested this? It’s surprising, isn’t it?” the kids were astonished by my proposal.

It seemed like it really was a gift from Scott.

“I wonder if Dad feels bad about what happened,” I said, laughing.

I gratefully accepted the travel vouchers from Scott.

“I’ll be off then.”

“Yeah, take your time. Stay with the kids at their places too. Why not?”

“Really? I can’t be away that long.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll relax at my parents’. Just enjoy yourself.”

With that, Scott sent me off.

Judy was happy to have me visit, so before the spa trip, I stopped by her place and then Eric’s. I hadn’t been able to visit them while caring for my mother, so I helped out by cooking and freezing meals for them.

“Mom, you should relax, but thanks. This really helps,” they both said, delighted to have my cooking at home.

This opportunity was all thanks to Scott’s suggestion.

Then came the eagerly awaited spa trip. I spent a relaxing time at the hot springs with my children. The weariness from caregiving and the sorrow of losing my parents seemed to have healed quite a bit. I was away for almost a week, but both my kids returned to their homes with bright smiles.

“That was fun. We should thank Dad for once.”

“True, just this once.”

“But I wonder if he’s up to something,” Judy joked.

“Don’t say that. Dad thought about us in his own way,” I laughed.

When I returned home, planning to share the memories with Scott and start our life anew as a couple, I was speechless.

What?

The house was…

I looked around in disbelief. Despite recognizing the location, the family home that should have been there was gone.

Then, out of nowhere, Scott appeared, followed by his parents. They were grinning at me, standing there dumbfounded.

“Scott, what’s going on?” I asked.

With the same sickening smile, Scott said, “Finally, I’m rid of that baggage. Starting today, my parents are moving in with me at my house.”

“What are you talking about?” I replied, trying to stay calm. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Your family home has been demolished. Bring the inheritance to our place quickly. Whatever you inherited, it’s Scott’s now.”

I realized then that the disappearance of the house was Scott’s doing, and it was all for the inheritance. Such betrayal. After thinking about the future on my way home, I was filled with indescribable sadness and anger.

But demolishing the house won’t go Scott’s way.

I won’t let it.

I burst into laughter at the sight of their smirking faces. My laughter baffled Scott and his father.

“Why are you laughing?”

“What a weird woman.”

“Has she gone crazy?” my mother-in-law said, looking at me as if I were eerie.

Facing the three of them, I spoke up.

“Don’t you guys know what you’re talking about? I haven’t inherited a single penny, so there’s no inheritance.”

After saying that, I burst into laughter again. They had mistakenly thought they’d become rich from the inheritance. Their wild imaginations and actions had me in uncontrollable laughter.

“What do you mean? Explain yourself,” Scott demanded.

But I kept my mouth shut. I felt no need to enlighten them.

Before that, “I’m not going to live with strangers. If you want to live together, go ahead alone.”

Ignoring Scott’s question and rejecting his suggestion made my mother-in-law furious.

“You helped with your parents’ housework, but you can’t do ours? You’re aware of the circumstances, right? I agreed to live together, didn’t I?” she yelled.

“I told you I didn’t want to live together. Have you forgotten that? You chose to live together to avoid housework,” I refuted them one after another. “Also, demolishing the family home like that… there are things you just shouldn’t do.”

I yelled at them and then left. Behind me, Scott’s voice called out, “Where are you going?” but I didn’t look back. Right now, I needed to find a place to sleep for the night, and I really didn’t want to see Scott’s face.

I immediately consulted a lawyer. Demolishing a house couldn’t be that easy. The house was still in my mother’s name.

As I wondered which company had done it, an unbelievable truth came to light. Scott and his father had demolished it themselves. His father, who worked in demolition, enlisted the help of acquaintances and even rented heavy machinery. The planning was meticulous. Moreover, they even gave me travel vouchers to get rid of me.

Tears welled up in my eyes at the realization of being deceived. The frustration was unbearable.

“Is there any way to punish all three of them?” I tearfully explained my situation.

The lawyer smiled at me kindly.

“Scott unlawfully demolished the house in your mother’s name. He could be charged with property destruction and held liable for damages. Let’s start by demanding a formal apology from Scott and his parents.”

I nodded in agreement, and the lawyer quickly took the necessary actions.

A few days later, Scott called me furious about the legal notice he received.

“What’s with this certified letter?” he yelled.

“Oh, you got it? You destroyed my precious house, so of course you have to compensate,” I replied.

“Compensate? We said we were moving to my parents’ place. I demolished a house that nobody was going to live in. You should be thanking me, not asking for compensation. Now bring the inheritance and come back home,” he said arrogantly.

“Thank you for demolishing my house? Don’t make me laugh. And what inheritance? It’s not even settled yet,” I shouted back.

Scott was silent, seemingly taken aback by my anger, which I rarely displayed.

The reason I laughed when the house was demolished was exactly this. I had a whole year with my mother. It was obvious that we would discuss matters of inheritance, so I told my brother I didn’t want anything and to give it all to him. As a result, he inherited all the cash and stocks. He insisted that I should have the house, since he lived far away and couldn’t manage it. If I wasn’t going to live there, it could be rented out. That was the plan.

“Either you and your father restore the house to its original state or pay the amount specified in the letter. I was considering settling this amicably. Well, fine. If you can’t pay, I’ll file a police report and sue you,” I declared.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d get so angry,” Scott said, starting to make excuses.

“Of course I’m angry. What do you expect?” I snapped.

Scott seemed to think that if my family home was gone, he wouldn’t have to live with his parents. His father had always wanted to live together and had a fondness for Eric. Scott had refused to live together before, citing difficult commutes, but his parents thought I was the one against it, so he convinced them by demolishing my house and making it seem like I’d move in with them with the inheritance.

But I couldn’t forgive him after hearing such a thing.

“Please give me a break. I didn’t mean any harm. Dad’s sorry too.”

“If he’s truly sorry, then agree to the settlement,” I said and hung up the phone.

Scott kept calling and sending messages apologizing.

“If you’re sorry, just transfer the money.”

I pushed him away. I knew my childhood home couldn’t be restored, but this was the only way I could deal with my unbearable feelings.

I stayed at Judy’s place. My brother’s family and my children knew about the situation. Although my brother must have been angry about our house being demolished without his consent, he said, “I won’t interfere, but I’ll help in any way I can. Do what you think is best, Amy.”

Everyone condemned Scott’s actions and supported me.

A month passed without any compensation or alimony payment from Scott. During that time, there was no contact from him. I couldn’t stay with Judy forever. I wanted to get the money as soon as possible to at least establish a living foundation.

Contrary to my wishes, something unbelievable happened. It was revealed by Judy.

“This apron looks a lot like Grandma’s,” she said, showing me her smartphone screen.

I was surprised when I saw it. It was a listing on a flea market app. The apron Judy mentioned, similar to my mother’s, was a unique one I had made for her.

“What? This is Grandma’s apron. I made it, so I’m sure,” I said.

Judy quickly checked other listings. The seller seemed to have recently joined the app, with no transactions or reviews yet. There were nearly 50 items listed, and to my horror, all of them belonged to my mother.

I immediately realized it was Scott. He was the only one who could have taken my mother’s belongings after demolishing the house. I called Scott right away.

“What’s this about the app?” I asked.

“App?” Scott responded, sounding annoyed.

“Don’t play dumb. You’re selling Mom’s things without permission, aren’t you? Cancel those listings right now,” I demanded.

Scott, sounding panicked, replied, “What? No, it wasn’t me.”

“Who else would do such a thing? I’m coming over right now to get everything back,” I said and hung up.

Then I immediately headed to Scott’s parents’ house with Judy.

“Where are Mom’s things?” I demanded as soon as we arrived, confronting Scott at the door.

“I don’t know anything about it,” he stuttered.

“Tell the truth, Dad,” Judy joined me in pressuring Scott.

He seemed flustered.

Scott’s parents noticed our presence and came out.

“Oh, Judy, you’re here,” Scott’s mom greeted, smiling at the sight of her granddaughter.

Angry, Judy said, “Grandma, tell Dad to tell the truth. The truth about Grandma’s belongings that passed away recently. Dad seems to be selling them.”

At Judy’s words, Scott’s mom burst into laughter. Scott, with a troubled look, kept repeating, “It really wasn’t me.”

Then his mother loudly exclaimed, “Scott is selling them? That’s impossible. I am the one selling them.”

I felt my blood run cold. Scott probably knew about it. With a look that almost said this is bad, he turned to his mother. Despite Judy’s shock, his mother cheerfully continued.

“What? It’s a lot of work, you know. I have to pack everything carefully and make sure the photos look good.”

She seemed oblivious to the fact that she was selling stolen goods, chatting happily about the app. I struggled to restrain myself from lunging at her.

“Cancel the listings. Those aren’t yours to sell,” Judy cried with anger and tears in her eyes, pleading with her grandmother.

However, Scott’s mother seemed displeased.

“What’s the big deal? I finally found a hobby I enjoy. I use the things I can and sell the rest for a little pocket money. It’s good for preventing dementia. I’m the only grandma left, so Judy wants me to stay healthy and live long, right?” she said nonchalantly.

Pleading with her to stop had no effect. There was no sign of remorse.

If talking won’t help, then action is the only option.

“Judy, let’s go.”

“But—”

“It’s okay. Let’s go,” I insisted, pulling Judy out of the house and heading straight to the police station.

I wasn’t planning to file a report for the demolition of the house, but theft was a different story. When I explained to the police that my mother’s belongings were being stolen and sold, they acted immediately, and Scott’s mother’s account on the flea market app was suspended. The items wouldn’t be sold anymore.

I called Scott on the way back from the station.

“I had your mother’s account stopped. You knew about it, right? You’re complicit.”

“No, I…”

“I filed a police report about this. Please cooperate with the investigation.”

Scott became frantic.

“What? We’re family, right? Withdraw it, please.”

“Family? You still haven’t paid any compensation for the house or alimony, and there’s no sign of remorse.”

Faced with my shouting, Scott was taken aback. Despite everything, I still had feelings for Scott, having lived with him for so long. Sighing, I said, “I’ll wait for the money, but I won’t forgive the theft. Return everything. And Scott, your father looked quite unwell. Has he seen a doctor?”

“What?”

“I’m not a monster, so just passing on that message,” I said and hung up.

Scott’s father, whom I had just seen, was alarmingly thin and hadn’t spoken much. His complexion was more than just pale. It was unnaturally dark. His ill health was obvious, but that family probably hadn’t noticed. His wife was nonchalantly selling stolen items, and Scott only acted tough with me. They lacked any real concern for others.

The next day, I received a call from Scott’s father. Expecting it to be a thank-you call, I answered, but I got the complete opposite reaction.

“What do you mean by treating me like a sick person? Planning to dump me in a hospital to get rid of the hassle? I need to protect Scott and my wife from you. I’m not going to any hospital,” he scolded.

It was shocking to be reprimanded when I was just concerned.

“Sorry for overstepping. I was just worried.”

“Hmph. I’m not frail or short-lived like your parents. Don’t make a fool of me,” he snapped.

I was infuriated by his words, but a few days later he apparently felt unwell enough to visit the hospital.

The diagnosis was terminal cancer.

Scott called me in a panic.

“Dad’s got terminal cancer. What am I going to do?”

I just snorted.

“I don’t know. What did he say when I suggested going to the hospital? He said, ‘I’m not frail or short-lived like your parents,’ so deal with it yourself.”

“How can you be so heartless, Amy? I never thought you’d be such a person.”

“Did you ever say a single warm word when my mother was sick? Reflect on your own actions,” I said and hung up.

As expected, Scott’s father passed away soon after. As a human being, I didn’t want to harbor negative feelings toward the deceased, but recalling everything that had been done and said, I couldn’t shed a tear.

After his funeral, his will was found. Despite all this talk of not being short-lived, he had made thorough preparations.

The house goes to the grandson, Eric. The rest of the estate is to be divided between my wife and eldest son.

I was surprised to see Eric’s name. Scott’s father had always favored him, wanting to live with him. He must have wanted Eric to have the house even after his death.

It was a nuisance for Eric.

“Renounce the inheritance. You don’t need that house, do you?” I told Eric.

But he was happy to receive it. Inheriting the house was more of a burden than a benefit due to inheritance tax, but if he was pleased, I had no right to say anything. Following the will, Eric inherited the house. His grandmother was happy and paid the inheritance tax.

“He’s our successor, after all,” she said.

While that’s not wrong, I felt a bit sad, as if Eric had been taken from me.

Then something unbelievable happened.

“Come over to our house.”

Scott’s call prompted me to head straight to his parents’ house. When I arrived, I saw Scott’s mother and Scott himself standing in front of their house, stunned, just like I once had been. The site was filled with heavy machinery and trucks labeled with demolition company names. Workers were tearing down their house right before our eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s my house. I can do what I want with it,” Eric said, appearing from somewhere, looking satisfied as he watched the demolition.

“Eric, what are you doing? Stop this right now,” Scott shouted.

“Stopping it now won’t make it livable anyway,” Eric replied.

“What have you done?”

Scott’s mother and Scott were begging Eric, but Eric just laughed.

“Did you forget what Grandpa and Dad did to Mom? Grandma, you were awful to Mom too, right? Did you apologize?”

Eric’s smile turned into a sharp glare at Scott’s mother and Scott. They fell to their knees as the heavy machinery continued to noisily dismantle their house.

I finally felt relieved seeing the scene.

Later, Scott finally paid the damages and compensation from the inherited assets. The stolen items that Scott’s mother took from my mother were retrieved by Eric and safely returned to me.

“You always have me and Judy,” Eric said, and I finally shed tears of relief.

Scott’s mother and Scott, having lost their house and left with no money, were now living in a company house again. Scott and I had moved out of the company house, but now Scott and his mother had to return, becoming the subject of rumors. I explained the whole truth to Scott’s colleague’s wife, who we were on good terms with. Scott and his mother will likely have a hard life in the company housing, but it’s their own doing. After Scott’s retirement, they’ll be forced to save up for a new place to live.

I sometimes think about asking my friend how Scott and his mother are living now, just to have something to talk about.

After that, I continued to stay at Judy’s house. Then Eric got engaged to be married. He was planning to build a house. The land of the former family home sold for a decent amount, and I was glad to see that even that house served a purpose.

“Mom, come live with us,” Eric offered.

His fiancée welcomed me warmly. Since I couldn’t keep relying on Judy, who lived alone, indefinitely, I decided to take Eric up on his offer.

I am thinking of living happily with my new family, determined not to become a mother-in-law like my own mother-in-law.