“Tell me the card’s PIN code, Mom’s at the store and wants to buy herself a phone” — my husband woke me up at 7 in the morning, but neither he nor his mother could have even imagined what surprise I had in store for them.
We’ve been married for almost three years, and during that time I’ve been drained to the last drop. I worked from morning till night, carrying the household on my shoulders — groceries, utilities, all the expenses — while my husband didn’t even bother to look for a job the entire time.
Before the wedding, he worked here and there, scraping by with odd jobs. But once we started living together, he somehow decided that now it was my duty to support him.
But the worst of all was his mother. My mother-in-law believed that her son was obliged to fully provide for her: gifts, clothes, medicine, trips, whims — all of it, in her mind, should come out of his pocket.
And she couldn’t care less that “his pocket” meant my money, my salary, and my tears after yet another sleepless night.
My husband regularly gave her money that I had earned, bought her gifts, transferred her sums “for little things.” I stayed silent, endured it, thinking that marriage is about compromise, that you shouldn’t ruin relationships.
But lately they had gone too far. My mother-in-law started writing to me almost every day about what she needed: cosmetics, a new blouse, help paying off a loan. My husband constantly reminded me that “Mom deserves to live well.” And me? To them I was nothing but a wallet with legs.
That day was my only day off. Finally, I could sleep in. I had just closed my eyes when the bedroom door flew open. My husband roughly yanked the blanket off me, leaned in, and said in a tone as if I were his personal maid:
— Tell me the card’s PIN right now. Mom’s at the store, she wants to buy herself a new phone.
I lay there, barely processing what was happening. He knew perfectly well that my salary had been deposited the day before, and that I hadn’t had a chance to spend a single kopeck of it yet. I turned to him and calmly said:
— Let her buy it with her own money.
And he exploded. He started yelling that I was greedy, that I didn’t respect his mother, that “Mom deserves the very best.” He insulted me, threatened me, demanded. And in that moment, I realized: enough. No more patience, no more respect, no more trying to save anything. A plan formed in my mind — a very quiet, very simple, and very painful one for them.
I gave him the PIN. But then I did something I don’t regret one bit. (Continued in the first comment.)
He left right away, pleased with himself, without even thanking me. I closed my eyes and waited for the notification from the bank. As soon as I saw the charge — almost my entire salary gone toward a new phone for his mother — I got up, grabbed my phone, and dialed the police.
— My card was stolen, — I said calmly. — Money was withdrawn without my consent. Yes, I know the address of the person who did it. Yes, I’m ready to give a statement.
Within a few hours, my mother-in-law was detained right at her home. The phone bought with my money was in her hands. She was taken to the station, where she tried to whimper that “her son allowed it.” But the card was in my name. The payment — without my consent. Legally speaking — pure theft. She now faces a fine or even criminal liability.
And my husband… My husband came running home in a rage, screaming that I had ruined his mother’s life. I silently packed his things, put his suitcase outside the door, and said:
— You lived off me for three years. That’s enough. Go support your own mother yourself.
And I closed the door in his face.
