I agreed, but I set one condition: the apartment must be in my name. I explained my reasoning to them:

— I need a guarantee that I won’t end up homeless in my old age. After I’m gone, the apartment will be yours, and you can do whatever you want with it.

My son-in-law lost his temper, started shouting, and called me greedy and distrustful. But I stood my ground.

However, what happened in the following two days completely destroyed my life. Now, I don’t know how to move forward.

The morning after our argument, my daughter stopped answering my calls. At first, I thought she was just upset and needed time to cool off. But as the hours stretched into the next day, my worry grew. We used to talk every day, even about the little things—what she had for lunch, how work was going, what new show she was watching. Now, it was complete silence.

By the second evening, I decided to go to her apartment. When I rang the doorbell, no one answered. I knocked, then knocked harder. Finally, my son-in-law opened the door just enough to peek out.

— She doesn’t want to see you, he said coldly.

I frowned. — What are you talking about? We’ve never gone two days without speaking.

— Well, she’s tired of your manipulation. You don’t trust us. You don’t trust her. Maybe it’s best if you give her space.

The door shut before I could respond. I stood there in the dim hallway, my heart pounding. I wanted to believe he was lying, but a part of me feared that maybe my daughter truly felt that way. Maybe, in my attempt to protect myself, I had pushed her away.

Days passed. Then weeks. My daughter wouldn’t return my calls, and whenever I tried to visit her at work, I was told she wasn’t available. The only connection I had left was through social media, where I saw pictures of her and my son-in-law enjoying dinners, traveling, smiling—living a life I was no longer a part of.

The loneliness was unbearable. I spent years raising her alone after her mother passed, sacrificing so much to ensure she had everything she needed. And now, just like that, she was gone. My heart ached, but deep down, I knew something wasn’t right. My daughter wasn’t cruel. She wouldn’t just cut me off like this—not unless someone was pushing her to do so.

That someone, I was sure, was my son-in-law.

I had never trusted him. From the beginning, there was always something off about him—his controlling nature, the way he subtly isolated my daughter from her friends, how he made decisions without consulting her. But love makes people blind, and my daughter was no exception.

It took months, but fate has its way of revealing the truth. One evening, an old friend of my daughter’s—Anna—reached out. We hadn’t spoken in a long time, but she had always been like family.

— I wasn’t sure if I should tell you this, but I can’t stay silent anymore, she said. I ran into your daughter last week. She looked exhausted, like she had been crying. When I asked her about you, she said she wanted to call but was afraid. She said her husband convinced her that you were only trying to control her and that you’d take the apartment for yourself.

My hands clenched into fists. So it was true. He had turned her against me to ensure she wouldn’t fight for my home.

Anna hesitated before adding, — There’s something else. I overheard him talking to someone about selling the apartment once it’s in their name. He was laughing, saying you were too stubborn, but he’d find a way to convince her. I think he’s just waiting for the right moment.

My blood ran cold. I had known he was manipulative, but this? This was betrayal on a level I hadn’t expected.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I paced my small rented room—because, yes, I had already sold my house, believing I was doing what was best for my future. The money was in my account, but I had nowhere to go. My daughter and her husband had told me they’d find the perfect apartment soon, but now I knew it was all a ploy.

I had to do something. I had to get my daughter back before it was too late.

The next morning, I withdrew a large portion of the money and hired a lawyer. If my son-in-law thought he could manipulate my daughter and steal my home, he was wrong. I drafted a legally binding document stating that unless I personally signed off on the purchase, no transaction could be completed. The apartment—if ever bought—would remain solely in my name. No loopholes.

Then, I did something even riskier. I wrote my daughter a long letter explaining everything—my suspicions, my fears, even what Anna had overheard. I left it at her workplace, where I knew she would find it without her husband interfering.

Days later, my phone rang. It was my daughter.

— Dad, I need to see you, she whispered. Please.

When we met, she looked thinner, more tired than I had ever seen her. She broke down in tears the moment she saw me.

— I didn’t know what to believe, she admitted. He told me you were trying to take everything from us. He made it seem like you were selfish, but now… now I see what he’s been doing to me.

My heart shattered and healed all at once. I held her as she sobbed, knowing we had a long road ahead. She needed to rebuild her confidence, to see her husband for who he truly was.

And she did.

In the weeks that followed, she started questioning him more, pushing back against his control. Eventually, she left him. The moment she saw how furious he was about losing his access to my money, she knew she had made the right choice.

As for me, I bought my own apartment—one just big enough for the two of us. Because no matter what, she would always have a place to come home to.

Life has a way of revealing the truth, even when it seems like all hope is lost. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that real love—between a parent and child, between family—can survive even the deepest betrayals.

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