After three years of saving, my husband and I finally moved into our first home. I was glowing, pregnant, and hopeful. But during the housewarming, my sister-in-law said I didn’t “deserve” the house.
What broke me was her reason.
I stood frozen until my husband said something I’ll never forget.
My eyes were misty as I stood on the porch of our new home.
After three years in a cramped apartment and counting every penny, Greg and I had finally made it. He’s a senior project manager at a big tech company, and I freelance in marketing…
though there’s no denying most of our house budget leaned heavily on his paycheck.
Still, we built this dream together. It was cozy, bright, and full of possibility… the kind of place that makes you think, “Yeah, this is where the next chapter starts!”
“Can you believe it’s finally ours?” I whispered, running my fingers along the painted doorframe.
Tears slid down before I even noticed.
We’d waited so long for this.
Every late night and every setback… it all led here.
Greg wrapped his arms around me from behind. “It’s perfect, Tina.
It’s everything we dreamed of.”
The house wasn’t massive, but it was cozy and ours.
Sunlight streamed through tall windows, and the basement had a little kitchenette that made my heart sing with possibilities.
“You like it?” Greg asked, his hand resting gently on my still-flat belly. I was six weeks pregnant with our first child.
“I love it,” I said, kissing his cheek.
” And your parents are going to love it, too.”
“What about Tessa?”
I felt my shoulders tense. Greg’s sister, Tessa, was a single mom in her early 30s.
And honestly, she’d always been…
complicated.
Not outright rude, just laced with this quiet sass and judgment that never really let up.
It was the way she looked at me sometimes — like I was a placeholder. Like I didn’t quite belong in their family. We were never close, but we managed to keep things civil over the years.
“She’ll come around,” I said, though I wasn’t sure about it.
The following Saturday was the housewarming, and Greg’s family arrived for the grand tour.
His parents, Carol and Jim, came bearing champagne and the biggest smiles.
“Oh, honey, it’s beautiful!” Carol exclaimed, pulling me into a warm hug. Tessa arrived 20 minutes late with her 13-year-old son, Jacob.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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