My Hubby Demanded that I Transfer our House to his Sister, which was a Gift from My Dad, Otherwise!
The Price of Independence
After that call, I was resolute. I decided to seek help from my father to devise a plan. By the next day, everything was ready for my move.
“By the way, I’m curious, when will Amy be back?”
“She’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Why are you so obsessed with Amy,” he questioned, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
“Between you and me, she seems to have made quite a sum from stock investments,” I mentioned casually.
“I see.”
“So if you provide her with a house, maybe you can ask for financial help,” he suggested, trying to rationalize his stance.
“That’s so like you,” I retorted.
“Anyway, you need to leave that house by today.”
“It’s inconvenient for all of us.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve already moved,” I stated coolly.
“What do you mean,” my husband seemed genuinely surprised.
“I knew it.”
“You don’t want to divorce me, do you?”
“Naturally, without an income, you can’t survive,” he claimed, still underestimating my resolve and independence.
“All of this is coming to an end.”
“We’re still legally married, and that’s the only reason we’re even having this conversation now,” I told him, my voice steady and resolute.
“Wait, what?”
“I can only think about divorce now,” I added, clearly shocking him with my directness.
“You promised to move out of that house and live with me, but you’ve already moved.”
“What are you saying,” he stammered, his voice laden with confusion and rising panic.
“Of course I won’t live in a house with a husband who decides everything on his own and a domineering mother-in-law.”
“Why are you including me in your plans for Amy,” I retorted.
“You promised to move out for Amy,” he tried to argue, clinging to his previous demands.
“I said I’ve already moved, didn’t I?”
“Enough with the jokes, where are you now,” he asked, his tone becoming increasingly panicky, clearly losing his composure.
“I’m at my parents’ house.”
“I moved to their rural home.”
“I don’t plan on returning to where you are,” I explained calmly, delivering the news that I knew would unsettle him further.
“You should have told me that sooner,” he replied, a hint of relief but also frustration in his voice.
“If you truly want to give the house to Amy, here’s the deal: it’s on the market.”
“$520,000.”
“Buy it for that amount and then hand it over to her,” I stated firmly.
“Are you joking?”
“I’m serious.”
The house was still in my father’s name, so I asked him to sell it. My father always said, “if something happens, I should contact him.” I could live in the house or sell as I see fit, and he would help me.
As a result of the valuation, a price of $520,000 was proposed, which I gladly agreed to, and we put the house on the market immediately. My husband probably never anticipated that I would take such a decisive step.
“Why are you doing this without asking me?”
“This is unforgivable,” he spat out, consumed with anger and disbelief.
“I’m not asking for, nor do I need your approval.”
“We’re getting divorced soon anyway.”
“I don’t care.”
“Do you understand your position?”
“You’ll be the one in trouble if we divorce since you don’t have an income.”
“You’re just a housewife,” he tried to belittle me, assuming that I would be helpless without him.
“I’d rather struggle on my own than be with you forever,” I responded firmly, cutting off his attempts to manipulate me.
“Listen, Amy will be coming back soon,” he started, but I was no longer interested in his plans or threats. I was set on my path, determined to reclaim my independence and dignity.
“I mentioned before that I was counting on Amy’s financial contributions, didn’t I?”
“So if you want Amy to have that house, you can purchase it for $520,000.”
“That is, of course, if you’re able to,” I pointed out firmly.
“What? That’s impossible!”
“If Amy has indeed made a fortune from her investments, I don’t see why she couldn’t afford it,” he retorted, clearly caught off guard.
“I’m not sure exactly how much she made, but to say she can’t afford it just sounds like you’re making excuses,” I replied, not giving in to his lack of accountability or apologies while maintaining his assertive attitude.
Realizing that further discussion was pointless, I decided to make my stance crystal clear.
“I’m finished with this chaos you’ve created.”
“Did you think threatening me with a divorce would make me surrender the house?”
“If you assumed that being a housewife means I’d simply obey, you’re deeply mistaken.”
“Let’s just calm down and discuss this,” he suggested, trying to soften the tone.
“I am calm.”
“It seems like you’re the one panicking.”
“I won’t let myself be controlled by you or your family any longer.”
“Go back to your mother.”
“Stay out of my life,” I exclaimed loudly, my voice ringing clear enough for anyone nearby to hear.
And then I abruptly ended the call, fed up with the constant tumultuous conversations. I blocked his number. I promptly sought legal advice and pursued a divorce.
It took some time, but eventually the divorce was granted, recognizing the faults on my husband’s part. He and Kayla continued residing in that small apartment. Meanwhile, Amy, unable to secure the large house she desired, expressed her frustration, claiming it wasn’t what she was promised, and she returned overseas.
My ex-husband’s hopes of leveraging his sister’s financial success crumbled, and he found himself struggling to manage financially, burdened with the responsibility of alimony and supporting his mother. Living with such a self-centered mother, his prospects of a thriving future seemed bleak.
In contrast, I relocated to the countryside, enjoying tranquil days with my parents. I began a new job as a clerical worker at a local company thanks to a neighbor’s recommendation.
With this job, I found financial independence and contentment. I decided to stay close to my parents for the foreseeable future, cherishing the opportunity to give back to them for all their support and love.
