My Future In-Laws Have No Idea That I Own the Home They Live In And Kicked Me Out of It

Ellen is thrilled when Lisa, her daughter, says yes to Ric’s marriage proposal. Once Ric’s parents start being a pain, things quickly get bad. Are there going to be wedding bells?

I was so happy when I heard that my daughter Lisa said yes to her boyfriend’s proposal! Since Ric had always made her feel safe and loved, I couldn’t wait for them to get married and start living together.

Then I met his parents.OFF THE RECORD My Future In-Laws Have No Idea That I Own the Home They Live In And Kicked Me Out of It.

Ellen is thrilled when Lisa, her daughter, says yes to Ric’s marriage proposal. Once Ric’s parents start being a pain, things quickly get bad. Are there going to be wedding bells?

I was so happy when I heard that my daughter Lisa said yes to her boyfriend’s proposal! Since Ric had always made her feel safe and loved, I couldn’t wait for them to get married and start living together.

Then I met his parents.

Lisa got a house as a graduation present from my husband David and me. Even though it wasn’t fancy, she chose to live there and put down roots. David agreed with me that our firstborn child earned this after Lisa’s hard work and dedication in medical school.

Lisa called me one night while making dinner a few months after she moved in.

“Mom,” she dialed. “Okay, Rick is moving in with me. I believe it’s the right choice since we’ve been together for a long time.”

I was happy for her, of course. I always thought Lisa was smarter than David, but David thought it was too soon to make such a big promise. A rat smelled bad to her from a mile away. David and I helped Ric move in in the end. I wasn’t sure what to think about all the stuff he brought in. He seemed to be very set on making this move.

Get ready for the worst family dinner ever.

Everything began with happiness. Lisa planned a party for Ric, our future in-laws, and us because she wanted us to get to know each other before beginning to plan the wedding. I didn’t mind this because I didn’t think I knew enough about Ric’s family at that point.

The whole thing took place outside because Lisa wanted her dad to run the grill. David and our younger daughter went inside to get the chicken and sausages for the fire while I was relaxing on one of the seats outside.

David and Leah then came outside and looked at me with a sneer. They looked like they were scared, like they had seen a ghost.

“Ellen,” David said, I remember. “Let’s go home.” Now.”

That was all. That word only. But I didn’t want to go any further because David wasn’t the kind of person who would lie about something. That means that if something shocked him, it probably made sense. We left after telling Lisa that Leah wasn’t feeling well.

David and Leah told me what had happened in the car after that. They heard Lisa and her in-laws talking about how they wouldn’t ask us to the wedding but that this dinner was meant to get us to pay for the whole thing while they were in the kitchen getting things they needed.

I couldn’t say anything, and I thanked God that David was driving instead of me. I would have lost control of the car and crashed it.

From then on, David didn’t want to talk about it much. I knew that was because I had convinced him to let Ric move in with Lisa.

So, was it all my fault?

The next morning, I didn’t go to class and asked my TA to take my place. I went right to Lisa’s house and saw her husband’s car in the driveway. They wouldn’t even let me in after I knocked for a while! But I could see them in the living room through the window. They looked like they owned the place. Lisa seemed to have given them the kingdom’s keys.

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Nobody expected fifty bikers at my son\’s funeral. Least of all the four teenagers who put him there. I\’m not a crier. Twenty-six years as a high school janitor taught me to keep my emotions locked down tight. But when that first Harley rumbled into the cemetery parking lot, followed by another, then another, until the whole place vibrated with thunder—that\’s when I finally broke. My fourteen-year-old boy, Mikey, had hanged himself in our garage. The note he left mentioned four classmates by name. \”I can\’t take it anymore, Dad,\” he\’d written. \”They won\’t stop. Every day they say I should kill myself. Now they\’ll be happy.\” The police called it \”unfortunate but not criminal.\” The school principal offered \”thoughts and prayers\” then suggested we have the funeral during school hours to \”avoid potential incidents.\” I\’d never felt so powerless. Couldn\’t protect my boy while he was alive. Couldn\’t get justice after he was gone. Then Sam showed up at our door. Six-foot-three, leather vest, gray beard down to his chest. I recognized him—he pumped gas at the station where Mikey and I would stop for slushies after his therapy appointments. \”Heard about your boy,\” he said, standing awkward on our porch. \”My nephew did the same thing three years back. Different school, same reason.\” I didn\’t know what to say, so I just nodded. \”Thing is,\” Sam continued, looking past me like the words hurt to say, \”nobody stood up for my nephew. Not at the end, not after. Nobody made those kids face what they did.\” He handed me a folded paper with a phone number. \”You call if you want us there. No trouble, just… presence.\” I didn\’t call. Not at first. But the night before the funeral, I found Mikey\’s journal. Pages of torment. Screenshots of text messages telling my gentle, struggling son to \”do everyone a favor and end it.\” My hands shook as I dialed the number. \”How many people you expecting at this funeral?\” Sam asked after I explained. \”Maybe thirty. Family, some teachers. None of his classmates.\” \”The ones who bullied him—they coming?\” \”Principal said they\’re planning to, with their parents. To \’show support.\’\” The words tasted like acid. Sam was quiet for a moment. \”We\’ll be there at nine. You won\’t have to worry about a thing.\” I didn\’t understand what he meant until I saw them the next morning—a sea of leather vests, weathered faces, and solemn eyes. The Hell\’s Angels patches visible as they formed two lines leading to the small chapel, creating a corridor of protection. The funeral director approached me, panic in his eyes. \”Sir, there are… numerous motorcycle enthusiasts arriving. Should I call the police?\” \”They\’re invited guests,\” I said. When the four boys arrived with their parents, confused expressions turned to fear as they saw the bikers. Sam stepped forward and…. Check out the first comment to read the full story

Nobody expected fifty bikers at my son’s funeral. Least of all the four teenagers who put him there. I’m not a crier. Twenty-six years as a high…