I’m Inferior to My Sister-in-Law in Every Way

A month before my 35th birthday, a letter arrived informing me that I was to inherit one million dollars from my late parents.
I spun around, a grin spreading across my face, ready to share the incredible news with my husband.
Mark was just opening his lunchbox when he spoke, his voice flat.
You know, you're actually kind of an embarrassment to me.
My smile froze, the joy evaporating into confusion.
He set his lunch aside and looked at me, his expression calm, almost detached.
"Your cooking is decent, I'll give you that. But compared to Claire? It's not even close."
"You're like some tiresome, nagging maid."
The words were spoken so lightly, yet they plunged into my heart like daggers.
He continued, lost in his own monologue.
"You take good care of me and Lia, I'm not denying that. But when it comes to her education, you're miles behind Claire. I know Lia's grades aren't great, but you don't have to be so harsh on her."
And just like that, I understood.
He was still holding a grudge because Id lost my temper with Clairehis widowed sister-in-lawfor wearing my mother's necklace to our daughter's parent-teacher conference, a conference she had attended in my place.
His simple words drained all the strength from my body.
I felt utterly, completely exhausted.

1
I turned, grabbing my purse, needing to get out.
Mark frowned, his hand shooting out to grab my wrist.
"Are you going to start making a scene just because I told you the truth?"
"Yes."
My mother-in-law, who had clearly heard everything, merely glanced over before returning to her phone. My father-in-law sat fiddling with his radio, completely absorbed.
Mark looked at me as if I were a puzzle he couldn't solve.
"What is your problem now? Am I wrong? Claire was just trying to help you out by going to the conference for you. So what if she wore your necklace? Can't you be a little more considerate of others for once?"
He was so earnest, as if he were prosecuting me for some heinous crime.
Our daughter was falling behind in school, but his family did nothing but coddle her, showing zero concern for her future. Every time I tried to be the "bad guy" and enforce some discipline, Claire would swoop in with her lectures on "positive reinforcement" and letting kids be kids.
And my own husband had not only let her go to the conference in my place but had also let her wear the last precious thing my mother had left me.
All I had done was mutter a few resentful words, and he had held it against me ever since.
"Is it time for lunch? Lia and Leo must be starving."
Claire walked in with the two children, her eyes widening as she sensed the tension.
My father-in-law put down his radio and immediately went to his grandson, Leo, ruffling his hair.
"Leo, you're back! Come tell Grandpa where you went to play."
He casually led Leo away from the conflict. Our daughter, Lia, after a hesitant look in our direction, quietly followed them. A pang of bitterness shot through me as I watched my own daughter fade into the background.
"Alright, Lydia, stop it. We're about to eat. Hurry up and get things unpacked," Mark said, releasing my arm. His tone was not a request; it was a command.
Claire stepped forward to help, but Mark stopped her.
"Don't, Claire. You go sit down and rest. This stuff is greasy. You don't want to get your hands dirty."
My heart hammered against my ribs. Did he ever once think about my hands?
I looked at the man I shared my life with and saw a complete stranger.
The silence from my in-laws was their verdict.
Still, a part of me refused to surrender.
"Can you help me, then?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Mark turned to me, a small smile playing on his lips. Hope, fragile and foolish, flickered within me. If he helps me, I thought, I'll tell him about the money...
But his next words plunged me into an icy abyss.
"Stop playing the victim."
"You've been doing this stuff for years. Why are you being so dramatic now? Claire is gracious enough to offer, and you're actually going to take her up on it?"
"You can't expect everyone to do everything for you."
His voice was gentle.
But the pain in my chest was sharp.
I had had enough of his endless, crushing comparisons.

2
Rage, pure and hot, flooded my senses.
The picnic lunch Id been preparing since dawn was sent crashing to the ground. The tent Id spent an hour meticulously setting up was torn down in a single, violent motion.
My rampage was brought to an abrupt halt by the stinging slap of Mark's hand across my face.
"Are you insane?! You've completely ruined a perfectly good family outing! Why did I ever marry a woman like you!"
"If you can't handle being here, then get out! Stop acting like a lunatic!"
The thread I had been hanging by finally snapped. But in its place, a strange, new feeling washed over me.
Relief. An incredible, weightless relief.
It was as if those were the words I had been longing to hear.
I looked around at them: my father-in-law, a passive observer; my mother-in-law, her face a mask of disgust; and Claire, busy comforting the two children.
I suddenly realized that in this family, I had always been the outsider.
A hollow laugh escaped my lips, but my heart felt like it was being torn apart.
"Fine. As you wish."
I stumbled as I turned to leave.
"Stop right there!"
My mother-in-law's voice cut through the air. She grabbed my arm.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
"My son has supported you all these years while you haven't worked a day! And now you do nothing but cause trouble for him! Have you ever once thought about this family?"
She softened her tone, a caricature of remorse. "Is it because I didn't help you unpack? It's my fault. I apologize. Here, let this old woman help you with your things."
"From now on, I'll take care of everything, alright?"
Claire came over, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Mark is just angry. He didn't mean it. Don't take it to heart."
"He already explained about the necklace. He said it was an accident."
"You're a family. You should talk things through."
"Go on, go say something nice to Mark. Ask him to forgive you."
They were all trying to placate me.
But I was the one who was bleeding.
"That won't be necessary."
"I can walk back by myself. That should make you all much happier."

3
After Mark's older brother passed away, Mark brought a pregnant Claire to live with us.
With two daughters-in-law expecting at the same time, the grief in the house was momentarily overshadowed. My in-laws treated us with a semblance of equality.
But the moment Claire gave birth to a son, the scales began to tip.
And when I held my newborn daughter in my arms and heard their quiet sighs of disappointment, I knew the fragile peace I had fought so hard to maintain was about to shatter.
My daughter and I were their family too. Didn't I deserve a basic level of respect?
But what power does a woman with no income and no support system really have?
I tried crying. I tried screaming.
All it did was cement my reputation as a shrew. My desperation at his coldness was framed as me being crazy, and my "craziness" became his justification for pushing me further away.
They relied on me for every practical need while emotionally exiling me.
I became the family maid.
It escalated to the point where Mark had Claire attend our daughter's parent-teacher conferences.
Because Claire had a job, dressed well, and looked more "presentable" than I did.
They burdened me with endless chores with one hand and condemned my disheveled appearance with the other.
The constant psychological pressure wore me down until their rare praise became my only goal in life.
And in the end, I still had nothing.
No one saw my exhaustion. No one cared.
So, let it end.
I shook Claire's hand off my arm.
"The range hood in the kitchen is broken. Remember to call a repairman."
"And Mark's suits should be kept with matching ties. It makes it easier for him in the morning."
"Since you all agree I can't compare to Claire, I guess these things are her responsibility now."
A flicker of triumph flashed in Claire's eyes.
I felt a strange sense of release.
"You don't need to look so smug about 'winning.' You're just the 'nice guy' who swoops in after every fight we have. But when a real problem comes up, you're never the first one to solve it."
"Doesn't it get exhausting, being like that?"
Looking at this family of hypocrites, I realized that fighting with them was a complete waste of my life.
I stormed over to my father-in-law and smashed the radio on the ground.
I had bought it for him. He was so picky that I had scoured half the city to find one that met his ridiculous standards.
Then, I marched over to my mother-in-law.
I yanked the gold bracelet off her wrist and put it on my own.
She gasped, reaching for it. "That's my bracelet!"
I deftly dodged her.
"This was part of my dowry. You just liked it so much you decided to wear it yourself."
Next, I pulled the jacket off Mark's shoulders and threw it into a puddle.
It was his last birthday present from me.
He was furious. "You shrew! You're being completely unreasonable!"
"I bought all of these things."
"Well, didn't I..." Mark started, then clamped his mouth shut.
What could he say?
In all our years of marriage, he had never once given me a gift. The few pieces of jewelry I owned were all from my family, from before the wedding.

4
My actions stunned them into silence. I had made scenes before, but they always ended with me trying to win back their approval.
My mother-in-law's chest heaved with rage. My father-in-law's face was a thundercloud.
Seeing her chance, Claire nudged her son, Leo, who immediately ran to his grandparents and hugged their legs, babbling sweetly.
My daughter, Lia, started to step forward too, but they deliberately ignored her.
As Leo charmed them with his antics, the tension in the air magically dissipated, replaced by warmth and laughter.
And Lia just stood there, lost and alone.
Just like me. An outsider.
I had always known they were biased, but seeing it so plainly still felt like a knife twisting in my gut.
How ridiculous.
They could be so prejudiced against their own flesh and blood, all because I had given birth to a girl.
I had tried to gently bring it up with Mark once.
I stated it as a simple fact, but he met me with icy indifference.
He asked me, his voice calm, if it wasn't the truth. If I had given him a son, he said, his family would have treated me just as well.
They drove me to the brink of madness, then calmly painted themselves as the victims of my insanity.
I never brought it up again.
Mark's eyes were soft as he ruffled his nephew's hair, but his face darkened the moment he looked at me. If anyone else had been there, he would have pointed at me with that weary, long-suffering sigh.
"See? She's at it again."
But this time, I didn't scream. I calmly took my daughter's hand.
The sight of me preparing to leave with Lia seemed to finally rattle him.
"Alright, alright! I shouldn't have said those things, okay?"
"I'm sorry."
"Now, shouldn't you be the one to apologize to everyone?"
He sounded like he was patiently mediating, but he was just trying to provoke me further.
This time, he was destined for disappointment.
"Lydia! Don't push your luck!"
He clearly thought his "apology" was a grand gesture, and he was furious that I wasn't gratefully accepting it.
"Move."
The single, cold word slipped from my lips.
His anger finally boiled over.
"What the hell do you want?! Do you expect the entire family to get on their knees and beg for your forgiveness?!"
I looked at him, my face a placid mask.
"Could you please get out of my way?"
He stared at me, uncomprehending for a second.
Then, his rage exploded. Without another word, he slapped me again.
"Lydia! If you walk out that door today, don't even think about coming back!"
My cheek burned, but the pain was nothing compared to the ache in my heart.
He knew. He knew my parents were gone, that this family was all I had left.
And he was using it to force me to submit.
But I was done submitting.

5
"Mark, let's get a divorce."
The toxic sludge that had been clogging my heart for years finally dissipated with those words.
Claire rushed over and grabbed my hand.
"Lydia, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have disturbed your lives. If it weren't for me, you two would never have reached this point."
"If you really can't stand having me and Leo here, we'll move out. Please, don't say things you'll regret, like getting a divorce."
Her words sounded sincere, but every sentence was designed to drive a deeper wedge between us.
It worked. Mark became even more agitated.
"No! I promised my brother I would take care of you and his son! If you move out, I'll be breaking my promise!"
Claire wiped a tear from her eye, her gaze full of sorrow as she looked at Mark. "It's okay. I can raise my son alone. You two can't get divorced because of me."
Mark whirled on me, his eyes full of venom. "Will you be happy once you've torn this family apart?! You want a divorce? Fine! You've got it!"
"But let me make one thing clear. You haven't earned a single penny in all these years. When we're divorced, don't expect to get a dime from me. We'll see how you feel then. Don't come crying back to me."
I looked at his ugly, contorted face and spoke coldly. "Don't worry. I won't ask for a cent. And I'm taking Lia with me. We won't be a burden to any of you."
"I'll have my lawyer draft the papers and send them to your email. See you at City Hall in a month."
With that, I took my daughter's hand and walked away.
A month later, I was waiting outside City Hall as promised. Mark arrived, his eyes darting around, unable to meet my gaze.
"You need to be sure about this," he mumbled. "You can still change your mind."
I didn't even look at him. "Why are you wasting my time?"
I pushed our documents across the counter, urging the clerk to hurry.
The moment the divorce certificate was in my hand and I stepped out of that building, I tasted freedom for the first time.
At the same instant, my phone buzzed. A new message had arrived.
It was the notification that the one million dollars from my parents' estate had just been deposited into my account.

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