He knew perfectly well that I’d received my salary yesterday and that I hadn’t spent a single penny yet. I turned to him and calmly said,
“Let her buy it with her own money.”
And then he exploded. He started yelling at me that I was greedy, that I didn’t respect his mother, that “Mom deserved the best.” He called me names, threatened me, and demanded.
And in that moment, I realized: enough.
There would be no more patience, no more respect, no more attempts to save anything. I had a plan—very quiet, very simple, and very painful for them.
He left immediately, satisfied, without even thanking me. I closed my eyes and waited for the message from the bank.
As soon as I saw the debit—almost my entire salary had gone toward his mother’s new phone—I got up, picked up my phone, and dialed the police.
“My card was stolen,” I said calmly. “The money was debited without my consent. Yes, I know the address of the person who did it.
Yes, I’m ready to provide an explanation.”
A few hours later, my mother-in-law was detained right at her home.
The phone I’d bought her with was in her hands. She was taken to the police station, where she tried to plaintively explain that “her son had given his permission.” But the card was registered in my name.
The payment was made without my consent. Legally, it’s pure theft.
She faces a fine or criminal liability.
And my husband… My husband came running home furious, shouting that I’d ruined his mother’s life. I silently gathered his things, threw his suitcase out the door, and said:
“You’ve been living off me for three years. Enough.
Go support your mother yourself.”
And I closed the door in his face.
