I Knew My Future Mother-in-Law Didn’t Like Me, but I Never Imagined the Plans She Had Against Me — Story of the Day

Falling in love felt perfect—until his family turned my life upside down. His mother didn’t think I was good enough and made it her mission to prove it. Secrets, lies, and a test of trust pushed me to my limit. I had to decide if love was enough to overcome everything against us.

If I had known what my future mother-in-law would be like, I would have told Dean to introduce us at the wedding. At least then, I would have been prepared for her icy glares and sharp comments.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

But not everything in life can be predicted, so I met Martha even before Dean and I got engaged.

Saying she hated me would be an understatement—she saw me as completely unworthy of her son. I was nothing like his ex-wife, Kate.

Yes, Dean had been married before. They divorced after she cheated on him with his cousin, who also happened to be his best friend—or rather, his former best friend.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

That whole situation was a mess I couldn’t imagine surviving. Thankfully, there were no children involved.

I don’t know how I would have handled that added layer of complexity. Still, the fact that Martha stayed in touch with Kate, despite everything, was enough to make me question myself.

But I was lucky with Dean. He was the best man I had ever met—kind, patient, and fiercely loyal.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He loved me, supported me in every way, and I loved him just as deeply. The rest didn’t seem to matter as much.

That evening, we had a rare date night planned. A cozy dinner at a nice restaurant followed by a movie.

We’d both been so busy lately that it felt overdue. Just as I was putting on my earrings, a knock at the door interrupted us. I frowned. We weren’t expecting anyone.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’ll get it,” I called to Dean, heading to the door. When I opened it, there she was—Martha. Her piercing gaze scanned me up and down.

“Oh, where are you all dressed up for?” Martha’s voice had an edge as sharp as her stare. No hello, no smile, no warmth. Then, as if to twist the knife, she added, “Off to seduce someone else’s husband?”

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “Dean and I are going on a date. Was there something you needed?” I kept my tone steady, though my patience was already wearing thin.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I just wanted to have dinner with my son,” she said, crossing her arms. “Is that so unreasonable?”

“Sorry, but we already have plans for tonight,” I said, standing my ground.

“Plans can be changed. A mother is more important than any plan. You should know that if you were a proper daughter-in-law. Kate always made time for me,” Martha said, her voice rising with every word.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I clenched my jaw and looked away, too drained to keep up this argument.

“Who’s at the door?” Dean called from the bedroom.

“Darling, it’s me,” Martha called out sweetly, her tone shifting entirely.

Dean walked into the room, frowning when he saw her. “Mom, why didn’t you call first? We already have plans.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Yes, Alice told me that,” Martha said, ignoring his concern. “But I haven’t seen you in so long. I thought I’d drop by.”

“I visited you last week,” Dean replied firmly.

“A mother can’t miss her son?” she snapped, throwing her hands in the air.

“She can, but we’ve already made plans,” Dean said. “I’ll come visit you soon.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Martha glared at me as if I’d personally insulted her. “This is all her doing! She’s turning you against me!”

Dean sighed. “Alice hasn’t said a word. Mom, please, no drama.”

Martha turned to me, her eyes blazing. “You’ll pay for this!” Then, she stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls seemed to shake.

“I’m sorry about that,” Dean said, wrapping his arms around me.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“It’s okay. Thank you for standing up for me,” I said softly, kissing him.

A few days after the incident with Martha, I was at home after work, sorting through wedding plans scattered across the table.

The list of tasks felt endless, but I was determined to make everything perfect. Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

For a moment, I thought Dean must have forgotten his keys again. Then I remembered—he’d planned to visit Martha after work. Curious, I walked to the door and opened it.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

There stood Martha. She brushed past me without a word and walked straight into the house.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice firm.

“How polite of you,” Martha said with a sarcastic smirk. Her tone dripped with disdain.

“You didn’t even say hello,” I pointed out, crossing my arms.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t see the need to greet someone like you,” she shot back, her eyes narrowing.

I clenched my jaw but kept my tone steady. “Why are you here? Dean went to see you after work.”

“Oh, yes,” Martha said, her smirk widening. “It just so happened that Kate dropped by for tea, so I left them alone. They deserve a second chance.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Her words hit me like a slap. “What did you do?” I asked, my voice shaking with shock.

“Let’s be honest, Alice—you’re not right for him,” she said, stepping closer. “His perfect woman is Kate. I know it, Kate knows it, and deep down, Dean knows it too. He just needed a reminder.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I squared my shoulders, refusing to let her see how much she rattled me. “This is crossing every line. I understand you don’t like me, but Dean and I are getting married in two months. I love him, and he loves me. You have no right to decide who’s best for him. And honestly, do you really want your son to go back to a woman who cheated on him with his cousin?”

Martha scoffed, waving off my words. “People make mistakes. Kate still loves Dean and regrets what happened. I’m sure it won’t happen again.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I shook my head, done with the conversation. “I’ve had enough. I’m calling Dean.”

“You can try, but I took his phone,” she said smugly, her arms crossed.

“You’re unbelievable,” I said, turning toward the door. She stepped into my path.

“If you don’t move, I’ll call the police and report that I’m being held against my will,” I replied, pulling out my phone.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“You wouldn’t dare,” she hissed, but I was already dialing.

“911, what’s your emergency?” the dispatcher asked.

“Hello—” I started, but Martha lunged forward, snatching the phone from my hands and ending the call.

Fuming, I pushed past her and opened the door. As I walked to my car, she screamed after me, calling me a witch who was ruining her son’s life. I didn’t look back. I had no time for her games.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I drove to Martha’s house, planning to walk straight in, but doubt crept in as I reached the door.

I paused, gripping the car keys tightly in my hand. Part of me feared that Dean might choose her over me. After all, he and Kate had spent eight years together.

Instead of going inside, I moved quietly toward the living room window. Inside, I saw Dean and Kate standing face to face in the center of the room.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Tears streamed down Kate’s cheeks, falling freely onto her blouse. Dean’s expression, however, was unreadable. He stood still, listening, but his shoulders were tense.

My heart sank at the sight of them together. A voice in my head whispered over and over, louder each time, that he wouldn’t choose me.

Suddenly, Kate stepped closer. Before I could process what was happening, she leaned in and kissed Dean. My heart dropped to my stomach. I froze, unable to look away.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

To my relief, I saw Dean push her back. He wiped his lips roughly with his sweater sleeve, his face twisting with anger. Without hesitating, he turned and stormed out of the house.

He spotted my car immediately. His eyes scanned the area until they landed on me.

Without a word, he walked straight over and pulled me into a tight hug. The moment his arms wrapped around me, I felt tears on my face I hadn’t realized were there.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“They set this all up. I didn’t want to see Kate,” Dean said, his voice firm. His hands rested on my shoulders as he looked into my eyes.

I nodded, feeling a wave of relief. “I saw you push her away,” I said, my voice quiet but steady.

“Because I don’t want anyone but you,” he said. His words felt like a shield around me, strong and certain. I hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Is my mom at our place?” Dean asked after a moment.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Let’s go. I have something to say to her,” he said. His tone left no room for argument.

We drove separately back to our house. My hands trembled on the steering wheel, but I kept going.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

When we walked in, holding hands, Martha’s face changed. Surprise flashed in her eyes, quickly replaced by irritation.

“You didn’t talk to Kate?” Martha asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I did, though I didn’t want to. Now I’ll talk to you. I’ve had enough of you interfering in my life. I don’t want this to continue. From now on, we’re done,” Dean said, his voice firm.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What?! But I’m your mother! I’m your family!” Martha shouted, her voice rising.

“Alice is my family. You can’t accept that, so I see no other option,” Dean said, squeezing my hand.

“I knew this was all her fault! That witch turned you against me!” Martha screamed. Her words hit like stones, but I stood firm beside Dean.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“You did this to yourself. Alice isn’t to blame. Now, please leave our home,” Dean said.

“This is outrageous! How could you do this?” Martha yelled, her face red with anger.

“Mom, please, don’t make me force you out,” Dean said, his tone calm but resolute.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Martha huffed, glaring at both of us. Then she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

“Are you sure this was the right decision?” I asked, my voice soft.

“When it comes to you and our family, I never have any doubts,” Dean said. His words brought a smile to my face, and I kissed him, knowing we were stronger together.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Meeting my fiancé’s parents should have been exciting, but nothing prepared me for the tension and judgment that followed. Between the quiet stares, sharp words, and unexpected secrets, the evening turned into a whirlwind I’ll never forget.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life. 

We Adopted a 4-Year-Old Girl – A Month Later, She Came to Me and Said, ‘Mommy, Don’t Trust Daddy’

A month after adopting Jennifer, she looked up at me with wide eyes and whispered, “Mommy, don’t trust Daddy.” Her words echoed in my mind as I began to wonder what secrets my husband could be hiding.

I looked down at Jennifer’s small face, taking in those big, watchful eyes and the shy, uncertain smile she wore. After all those years of hoping, trying, waiting, here she was, our daughter.

A small happy girl | Source: Pexels

A small happy girl | Source: Pexels

Richard was practically glowing. He couldn’t stop looking at her. It was like he was trying to memorize every feature, every expression.

“Look at her, Marla,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “She’s just perfect.”

I gave him a soft smile, my hand resting on Jennifer’s shoulder. “She really is.”

A happy family and their daughter | Source: Pexels

A happy family and their daughter | Source: Pexels

We’d come such a long way to get here. It had been doctor’s appointments, long talks, and an endless string of paperwork. When we finally met Jennifer, something in me just… knew. She was only four, so little, and so quiet, but she already felt like ours.

It’s been a few weeks since we officially adopted Jen, and we decided it was time for a small family outing. Richard leaned down to her level, smiling warmly. “Hey. How about we go get some ice cream? Would you like that?”

A man talking to his young daughter | Source: Freepik

A man talking to his young daughter | Source: Freepik

Jennifer looked at him, then glanced up at me, as if waiting for my reaction. She didn’t answer right away, just gave the smallest nod, pressing herself closer to my side.

Richard chuckled softly, though I could hear a hint of nervousness in it. “All right, ice cream it is. We’ll make it a special treat.”

A man playing with his daughter | Source: Freepik

A man playing with his daughter | Source: Freepik

Jennifer stayed close to me as we walked out. Richard led the way, glancing back every now and then and smiling hopefully. I watched him try to coax her out, to make her feel at ease. But each time he asked a question, Jennifer’s grip on my hand tightened a little, her gaze drifting back to me.

When we got to the ice cream shop, Richard stepped up to the counter, ready to order for her. “How about chocolate? Or maybe strawberry?” he asked, his voice bright.

A man picking out ice cream | Source: Midjourney

A man picking out ice cream | Source: Midjourney

She looked at him, then looked at me again, her voice barely a whisper. “Vanilla, please.”

Richard seemed taken aback for just a second, then smiled. “Vanilla it is.”

Jennifer seemed content to let him order, but I noticed she barely looked his way as we sat down. Instead, she ate quietly, staying close to my side. She watched Richard with a cautious sort of interest, not saying much, and I wondered if it was all just too much for her.

A serious young girl | Source: Pexels

A serious young girl | Source: Pexels

Later that evening, as I tucked Jennifer into bed, she clung to my arm a little longer than I expected.

“Mommy?” she whispered, her voice hesitant.

“Yes, sweetie?”

She looked away for a moment, then back up at me, eyes wide and serious. “Don’t trust Daddy.”

A serious girl talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney

A serious girl talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. I knelt beside her, brushing her hair back. “Why would you say that, honey?”

She shrugged, but her lips turned downward in a sad little frown. “He’s talking weird. Like he’s hiding something.”

It took me a moment to respond. I tried to keep my voice gentle. “Jennifer, Daddy loves you very much. He’s just trying to help you feel at home. You know that, right?”

A smiling woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney

She didn’t respond, just curled up a little tighter under her blankets. I stayed there, holding her hand, wondering where this was coming from. Could she just be nervous? Maybe adjusting was harder for her than I realized. But as I looked at her small, serious face, a faint unease crept in.

When I finally left her room, I found Richard waiting by the door. “How’d she do?” he asked, his face hopeful.

A serious man | Source: Pexels

A serious man | Source: Pexels

“She’s asleep,” I replied softly, watching his expression.

“That’s good.” He seemed relieved, but I noticed how his smile wavered just a little. “I know it’s all new for her. For all of us. But I think we’ll be fine. Don’t you?”

I nodded, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of Jennifer’s words echoing in my mind.

A woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels

A woman deep in thought | Source: Pexels

The next day, as I stirred the pasta on the stove, I heard Richard’s voice drift in from the living room. He was on the phone, his tone low and tense. I paused, wiping my hands on a towel, and listened as his words floated into the kitchen.

“It’s been… harder than I expected,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s… sharp. Jennifer’s noticing more than I thought she would. I’m afraid she might tell Maria.”

A man talking on his phone with his back to the camera | Source: Pexels

A man talking on his phone with his back to the camera | Source: Pexels

I felt my heartbeat quicken, my mind racing to make sense of what I’d heard. Jennifer might tell me? Tell me what? I tried to shake it off, telling myself there must be an explanation. But as I listened, my pulse only pounded harder.

“It’s just… so hard to keep things under wraps,” Richard continued. “I don’t want Marla to find out… not until it’s ready.”

A serious suspicious woman | Source: Freepik

A serious suspicious woman | Source: Freepik

I froze, clutching the countertop. What wasn’t I supposed to find out? What could he possibly be keeping from me? I strained to hear, but then his voice dropped lower, and I couldn’t make out the rest of his conversation. A few moments later, he ended the call and started walking toward the kitchen.

I turned back to the stove, my mind whirling. I stirred the pasta with more force than necessary, trying to act normal as Richard stepped in, looking pleased.

A smiling man looking at his wife cooking | Source: Pexels

A smiling man looking at his wife cooking | Source: Pexels

“Smells good in here,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

I forced a smile, my hands gripping the spoon. “Thanks. Almost done.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears, and I felt my smile falter as his words echoed in my head: I’m afraid she might tell Marla… It’s hard to keep things under wraps.

A woman cooking with a forced smile | Source: Midjourney

A woman cooking with a forced smile | Source: Midjourney

Later that evening, after we’d tucked Jennifer in, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I needed answers. I found Richard in the living room, browsing through some paperwork, and sat down across from him, hands clasped tightly in my lap.

“Richard,” I began, my voice steadier than I felt, “I overheard you on the phone earlier.”

A couple having a serious talk | Source: Pexels

A couple having a serious talk | Source: Pexels

He looked up, raising an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and… something else crossing his face. “Oh?” he said, clearly caught off guard. “What did you hear?”

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “I heard you say that Jennifer might… tell me something. And that it’s hard to keep things ‘under wraps.’” I met his gaze, my heart pounding. “What are you hiding from me?”

A sad serious woman hugging her knees | Source: Pexels

A sad serious woman hugging her knees | Source: Pexels

For a moment, he just stared at me, his face a mixture of confusion and worry. Then, as understanding dawned, his expression softened. He set his papers aside and leaned forward, reaching for my hand.

“Marla,” he said gently, “I’m not hiding anything bad. I promise.” His grip on my hand was warm, reassuring, but it didn’t settle the knots in my stomach.

A frustrated man | Source: Pexels

A frustrated man | Source: Pexels

“Then what is it?” I whispered, barely able to meet his eyes. “What don’t you want Jennifer to tell me?”

Richard took a deep breath, his face breaking into a sheepish smile. “I didn’t want you to find out because… well, I was planning a surprise for Jennifer’s birthday. With my brother’s help.” He squeezed my hand, looking slightly embarrassed. “I wanted it to be a big deal, a special first birthday with us.”

A serious man talking on his couch | Source: Midjourney

A serious man talking on his couch | Source: Midjourney

I blinked, not quite processing his words at first. “A surprise party?” I asked slowly, the tension in my chest easing just a bit.

He nodded. “I wanted it to be perfect for her. I thought we could show her how much we care. That she’s part of our family now.” He smiled, looking a little relieved. “I knew Jennifer might say something, and I was worried she’d ruin the surprise.”

A surprise party for a small girl | Source: Midjourney

A surprise party for a small girl | Source: Midjourney

A wave of relief washed over me, though I felt a strange pang of guilt. Here I’d been imagining… well, I didn’t even know what I’d been imagining. “Richard,” I whispered, lowering my head, “I’m so sorry. I just… I thought there was something wrong.”

He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb over my hand. “Hey, it’s okay. I get it. You were so stressed after the adoption process, so I took all the planning upon myself. It’s a surprise for both of you!”

Man and woman holding hands | Source: Pexels

Man and woman holding hands | Source: Pexels

I nodded, trying to let go of the doubts that had taken hold of me. “I think Jennifer’s just… protective,” I said, trying to explain. “She doesn’t know what to expect, and when she told me not to trust you… I guess it just got to me.”

Richard gave a thoughtful nod. “She’s a sensitive kid. I think she’s still finding her way.” He looked at me, his expression earnest. “We’ll just have to make sure she feels safe and loved. All three of us.”

A happy couple talking on the couch | Source: Midjourney

A happy couple talking on the couch | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, as I watched Richard gently help Jennifer pick out her breakfast cereal, I felt my heart lift a little. He looked over at her with so much patience, and even though she barely glanced up, I could see the trust slowly building between them.

I walked over and joined them at the table, my hand resting on Jennifer’s shoulder. She looked up at me, her eyes calm, and a small smile crept across her face. It was as if she could sense the new peace between us, as if some unspoken worry had finally lifted.

A happy family playing together | Source: Pexels

A happy family playing together | Source: Pexels

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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