My Ungrateful Daughter Chose Her Mother-In-Law, So I Spent Her Inheritance on Myself!

After my daughter lost her job, I started sending her $3,500 out of my $4,000 monthly retirement check to cover her expenses.

I survived on stale toast and instant ramen, too stingy to even buy myself a fivedollar carton of strawberries.

But she turned around, hugged her motherinlaw, Eleanor, and cried tears of gratitude over a measly $2,000 pocket money Eleanor gave her. "You're the only one who truly cares about me!

My own mother doesn't care if I live or die!" That day, I went to her apartment to drop off the money, only to overhear her complaining to her best friend, Ashley. "My mom is just acting poor to control me.

She hands over money like she's throwing scraps to a beggar. She's nothing like Eleanor!

Eleanor is so generous—she just casually handed me two grand!" Those words felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head, freezing all my warmth.

I quietly slipped the envelope of cash back into my pocket.

I turned around, went straight to the bank, and withdrew the $150,000 emergency fund I had spent ten years saving for her.

Then, I pulled out a flyer for a luxury senior cruise tour that I’d kept for a year and dialed the number. "Hi, do you still have spots left for the luxury senior cruise?" The tour bus engine had just started when my phone began vibrating like crazy.

I took a deep breath and pressed answer. Chloe’s sharp voice immediately blasted through the speaker, nearly splitting my eardrum. "Mom, where are you?

Didn’t we agree you'd bring over the money today? My rent is due tomorrow! Do you want me to sleep on the street?" I looked at the seat next to me.

Susan was on a FaceTime call with her daughter, who was asking softly, "Mom, are you tired?

Make sure to drink plenty of water." In comparison, Chloe's voice sounded incredibly vicious. "I’m talking to you! Are you mute?

I knew you didn't give a damn about me!" "I joined a tour group.

I wanted to travel and clear my head," I said, my throat so tight it felt like it was blocked by cotton. "A tour?" She let out a sarcastic laugh. "Eleanor knew I lost my job and gave me $2,000 right away.

She told me not to stress. But look at you! You're living it up with your retirement fund, leaving me to rot! Do you even know how to be a mother?

Cancel the tour and bring me the money right now!" Through the phone, I heard her complaining to her husband, Tyler. "Look how selfish my mom is!

Even Eleanor spoils me, but my own mother only cares about herself. I must have been blind to think she actually loved me!" I suddenly remembered the scene I witnessed yesterday.

She had been lounging on the sofa, playing with a cheap plastic bracelet Eleanor had given her, bragging, "My mom’s tiny retirement check isn't even enough to cover my snacks.

Eleanor is the generous one. She buys me treats all the time and tells me not to pinch pennies.

Now that’s real love!" She had no idea that to scrape together that $3,500 for her, I had eaten stale toast for a month, too stingy to buy a fivedollar carton of strawberries.

My heart felt like it had been shattered by a hammer. Tears splashed onto my phone screen. Susan handed me a tissue and asked softly, "Are you okay, sweetie?

Did you have a fight with your daughter?" I shook my head, unable to speak.

I opened Snapchat and saw a post Chloe had uploaded ten minutes ago. "Some people don’t deserve to be mothers! While her daughter is practically starving, she’s out having fun.

Meanwhile, Eleanor treats me like her own daughter. The difference is night and day!" The post featured a photo of $2,000 in cash and a bag of potato chips, dripping with arrogance.

During a pit stop, I saw some maple cookies in the convenience store.

I remembered how, when she was little, she would hug me and say, "Mommy's cookies are the best." My heart softened.

After hesitating, I transferred $2,000 to her with a note: "Spend it wisely." The second the money went through, she replied instantly. "Only $2,000? You used to give me $3,500!

Did you waste the rest on your stupid trip? So cheap! Eleanor said she’s sending me another $3,000 for new clothes. You both are mothers, so why is there such a huge difference?

If you loved me even half as much as she does, I wouldn't be so heartbroken!" Looking at the text, I remembered how I secretly slipped her $100,000 as a wedding gift, how I stayed awake for three days and nights when she gave birth, and how I gave her most of my pension after she lost her job while I starved.

All I got in return was resentment and comparisons. The tour guide was organizing a souvenir shopping trip. I picked up a box of maple cookies.

In my memory, she had eaten them, showing her little baby teeth, saying, "Mommy is the best." But now, she complained that my cooking was too greasy, saying, "It's not as light and refreshing as Eleanor's salads." How could she possibly appreciate these "cheap" cookies now?

I laughed mockingly at myself and put them back. That night, lying in the hotel bed, my phone was terrifyingly quiet.

There was no text asking how I was—only cold, demanding messages. Not long after, my phone vibrated again. It was a message from Chloe. "Mom, I'm sorry. I was a bit harsh earlier.

I bought you a pair of gloves. I'll bring them over next time. It's getting cold, you should wear them." Looking at the message, my heart softened again.

Maybe she was still a good girl at heart. Maybe she was just stressed. But I didn’t realize that this brief sweetness was only a prelude to a much deeper betrayal.

On the third day of my trip, whether it was from the sketchy food or the constant stress, I came down with severe food poisoning. Trembling, I dialed her number.

It rang for a long time before she picked up, her voice dripping with impatience. "Mom, what is it now? You're calling in the middle of the night! I'm at a spa with Eleanor!

She twisted her ankle, and I have to take care of her. I don’t have time to chat." "Chloe," my voice was so weak it barely carried. "I have a high fever.

I've been throwing up and I can't stop..." The other end went silent for two seconds before her careless, annoyed voice returned. "Oh, just drink some warm water.

Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill. Eleanor is waiting for me to wash her back. If you’re sick, just go to the hospital.

Stop being so dramatic." "Dramatic?" I froze, tears instantly spilling over. "I have a 102degree fever and I can barely stand. You think that's dramatic?

Eleanor twisted her ankle, and you're running around serving her at a spa. I’m in the hospital on an IV, and you don’t even have a single word of genuine concern?

Is this how you care about me?" "What is that supposed to mean?" Her voice instantly escalated. "Eleanor treats me well, so of course I should take care of her!

She gives me money and buys me food. What about you? Aside from giving me a little allowance, what do you actually do?

Your cooking is greasy, your cleaning is messy, and now you can't even take care of yourself!

How dare you blame me?" Her words were like poisoned arrows, piercing my chest so hard I couldn’t breathe.

The girl in the bed next to me had her daughter fly in overnight to take care of her. That warm scene only made my situation look more pitiful.

Chloe was still complaining. "You always cause trouble when I'm busy. Can you let me have some peace for once?

Eleanor always looks out for me, unlike you, who only adds to my stress!" She hung up, and the dial tone pounded against my heart like a gavel.

By the time I finished my IV drip, it was noon the next day. I dragged my weak body back home. The moment I pushed the door open, I was stunned by the mess in the living room.

My closet doors were wide open, clothes were scattered all over the floor, and my savings passbook was sitting right in the middle of the coffee table, glaringly obvious.

Chloe walked out of the bedroom, looking completely entitled. "Mom, you're back already?

I was looking through your things and saw you still have quite a bit of money in your savings. You can't spend it all anyway, so let me use some.

It’s Eleanor’s birthday next month, and I want to buy her a designer gold bracelet to show my appreciation." I shook with rage, but I didn't even have the energy to scream. "Chloe, I was in the hospital yesterday with a 102degree fever.

Did you ask about me once?

This is my retirement money, not your fund to kiss up to your motherinlaw!" "Well, aren't you fine now?" she dismissed me with a shrug. "You make a big deal out of every little cold.

Eleanor is the one who actually works hard, so of course I have to treat her. As my mother, can’t you be more generous? Besides, isn’t your money going to be mine eventually anyway?

What’s wrong with letting me spend it now?" "My money is for my retirement!" Tears streamed down my face. "I worked hard my entire life and saved every penny.

It's not for you to squander! You don't care about me at all, yet you want to use my money to please someone else.

Do you have any conscience?" "What is a conscience even worth?" She sneered. "Eleanor treats me well, so I treat her well. You know exactly how you’ve treated me!

What do you do besides hand over cash? Your food sucks, you’re bad at taking care of people, and now you’re even hoarding your money.

How dare you call me heartless?" She slammed the door and left. I collapsed onto the sofa, unable to stop my tears.

The sun was shining brightly outside, but I felt completely frozen.

Just as I was drowning in my grief, Chloe suddenly came back, holding a shopping bag. "Mom, I brought you some fruit, and the gloves I mentioned last time. Don't be mad anymore.

I know you love me. I was just angry earlier because you wouldn't give me the money." She handed me the gloves, a flattering smile plastered on her face.

I took them, and the ice in my heart seemed to thaw just a little. But the moment I put them on, I caught a faint scent of cheap perfume and noticed a tiny stain on the thumb.

Before I could even process this small gesture of "warmth," Chloe spoke again. "Mom, since you're not mad anymore, can you hand over the savings passbook?

Eleanor’s birthday is coming up, and I need to order the bracelet soon." Her eyes were filled with greed. There wasn't a shred of sincerity in them.

Looking at her, my disappointment piled up until it felt heavy enough to suffocate me. So, her apology and her gift were nothing but tools to extract more money from me.

I pulled the gloves off, tossed them aside, and clutched my savings passbook tightly. "I am not giving you this money." Chloe’s face instantly darkened, and she pointed a finger at me, screaming, "You are so coldhearted!

You don't deserve to be a mother! I see right through you now.

You don't care about me at all!" She slammed the door again, leaving me alone in the empty house, my heart completely dead.

After that argument, Chloe and I didn't speak for two weeks.

I thought she would reflect on her behavior, but when she finally called, her tone was just as demanding as ever. "Mom, I'm moving.

The new apartment is on the sixth floor with no elevator. There are a lot of heavy boxes.

Come over early tomorrow to help." There was no apology in her voice, as if our last fight had never happened. Holding the phone, a storm of emotions swirled inside me.

I remembered her fake smile when she handed me those gloves, and the old sweater filled with memories. Ultimately, I couldn't bring myself to say no.

I whispered, "Okay, I'll be there early." The next morning, I packed the gloves and some cleaning cloths. Without even eating breakfast, I rushed to her new place.

At the building, I saw a mountain of cardboard boxes and furniture piled near the entrance. I rolled up my sleeves and started carrying them up.

By the time Chloe and Eleanor arrived, I had already hauled most of the heavy boxes upstairs and was on my hands and knees scrubbing the windows, drenched in sweat.

Eleanor walked in slowly, holding a bag of apples.

She sat down comfortably on the couch and immediately started barking orders. "Put that box in the corner, don't block the hallway.

The wardrobe needs to go against the bedroom wall, or it'll take up too much space.

And make sure to wipe those windows clean—don't leave any water streaks." Chloe immediately smiled, poured a cup of tea, and handed it to Eleanor with both hands. "Relax, Eleanor.

Don't tire yourself out. Just let my mom do it. She’s fast and used to manual labor." She didn’t look at me once, let alone ask if I was tired.

I gritted my teeth and kept wiping the glass, telling myself she was my daughter, so it was fine to sweat a little. But I wasn't careful.

My elbow caught a mug on the coffee table, and it shattered loudly on the floor. Chloe instantly exploded, marching over and screaming in my face. "Mom, can't you be careful?

Eleanor gave me that mug! It was expensive! Why are you always so clumsy?" Then she turned to Eleanor with a sweet smile. "It's okay, Eleanor. I'll buy you a brandnew one tomorrow.

A much better one." Eleanor said fakesweetly, "Oh, it's fine. It's just a mug. Your mom didn't mean to." But the disgust in her eyes was impossible to hide.

I knelt on the floor to pick up the broken glass. A sharp piece sliced my finger, and blood began to drip. Chloe didn't even glance at it.

She was too busy peeling an apple for Eleanor, asking softly, "Here, Eleanor, have some apple.

It's really sweet." By the time I finished cleaning, it was almost two in the afternoon. My stomach was growling.

I wanted to stay for lunch, but Chloe handed me a bulging trash bag. "Mom, Eleanor and I made reservations at a steakhouse.

You probably wouldn't like western food anyway, so go home and eat. Oh, and take the trash down with you." Her tone was so casual, as if I were nothing but hired help.

I took the trash bag and watched them leave, laughing and talking like a real mother and daughter. My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe. On my way home, my phone buzzed.

It was a message from Chloe. "Mom, thanks for today. I'll buy you dinner next time." Looking at the message, the resentment that had built up in my chest eased slightly.

Maybe she just forgot to consider my feelings, I told myself. But that selfdelusion was shattered into pieces at her birthday party.

She had mentioned earlier that she wanted a highend antiaging skincare set.

I visited three different malls, compared multiple brands, and spent half of my monthly pension to buy it for her. Many relatives and friends showed up at the party.

Chloe looked beautiful in her new dress, smiling from ear to ear. Eleanor pulled out a red jewelry box and handed it to her. "Happy birthday, dear. I bought you a necklace.

I knew it would look gorgeous on you." Chloe opened it and immediately hugged Eleanor tightly, showing off the necklace to everyone. "Look everyone! The necklace Eleanor bought me!

It's so delicate. This is the best gift I've ever received. Eleanor knows me best!" I found out later that the necklace was a cheap knockoff, worth less than thirty dollars.

When it was my turn to give her my gift, I carefully handed over the expensive skincare set.

Chloe took it, set it aside without even opening the box, and complained to a relative sitting next to her, "The skincare my mom buys never suits me.

It’s always too heavy and greasy. It’s nothing like Eleanor's necklace.

Now that has class." The relatives looked at me with pity, whispering among themselves. "What an ungrateful brat.

Her mother gave her everything, and she still treats her like garbage." I sat in the corner, watching the lively party, feeling completely numb.

Before the dinner even ended, I quietly slipped away. Walking home in the cold night breeze, my tears finally overflowed. Just as I was drowning in sorrow, my phone buzzed.

It was a message from Chloe. "Mom, I'm sorry about earlier. I was a bit blunt at the party. Please don't take it to heart. Here’s $200. Go buy yourself something nice.

Consider it an apology." Looking at the text, my heart softened again. I thought she still had a conscience and was probably just under a lot of stress. I didn't accept the money.

I replied, "It's fine. As long as you're happy."

Before the sting of the birthday party could fade, news came that Chloe's juice bar had gone under. That afternoon, she barged into my house, sobbing hysterically.

Her hair was messy, and her eyes were red and swollen. The moment she entered, she dropped to her knees, grabbing my legs and crying, "Mom, I'm ruined! I owe $50,000 to loan sharks!

They're threatening to show up at my job if I don't pay. You have to save me!" I quickly helped her up, rubbing her back in distress. "How did you end up owing so much?

Didn't I tell you to be careful when you opened that shop?" "I thought it would make money!" she wailed, gasping for air. "Who knew business would be this bad?

Rent, utilities, payroll... everything cost money. Now I’ve lost everything and I'm drowning in debt! Mom, I know you have $150,000 saved up.

Just give me the money to pay them off, or they’ll destroy my life!" $150,000. That was my life savings, scraped together over ten years.

After my divorce, I raised her alone, working at a factory by day and running a street stall at night, saving penny by penny. I hesitated and didn't speak.

She immediately guessed my thoughts, crying even harder as she brought up the past. "Mom, have you forgotten how we survived together?

You divorced my dad with nothing just to keep me, and we lived in that leaky, tiny rental. You promised you’d protect me forever.

Now that I’m in trouble, how can you just stand by and watch?" Her words pierced the softest spot in my heart. "What about Eleanor?" I couldn't help but ask. "She’s always so good to you.

Did you ask her?" Hearing Eleanor’s name, Chloe’s crying stopped abruptly, and an uncomfortable look flashed across her face. "Eleanor said she doesn't have any money.

Her savings are locked up for her retirement. Mom, see? You're the only one who truly loves me.

You won't abandon me, right?" Thinking of the hardships we had survived, my heart softened completely.

Yes, if it weren't for her, why would I have given up all my assets during the divorce and suffered so much? I was just about to nod when her phone slipped out of her pocket.

The screen lit up, showing a Snapchat chat with her best friend, Ashley. "Once I get that $150,000, I'm going to buy Eleanor a gold ring.

She's been complaining that all her friends have one, and I can't let her lose face. My mom's savings are just sitting there anyway.

If I don't spend it, who will?" The words were like poisontipped knives, stabbing straight into my heart.

I pushed her away violently, stepping back, my voice trembling. "Chloe, is this true?

You're begging me for money just to buy Eleanor a gold ring?" Chloe's face paled, and she scrambled to grab her phone, her eyes darting around. "Mom, you got it wrong, that's not what I meant...

I was just joking with Ashley. Paying off the debt is what’s important right now." "I didn't get it wrong!" I interrupted her, tears finally spilling over. "What do you take me for?

Your personal ATM? A tool to buy your motherinlaw's affection?" "That is what you're supposed to do!" Chloe suddenly screamed, her face contorting with rage. "You're my mother!

You're supposed to support me! You kept me after the divorce just so I’d take care of you when you're old, didn't you? Now that I'm in trouble, helping me is your duty!

Hoarding your money makes you selfish!

You don't deserve to be a mother!" "I'm selfish?" I shook with rage, pointing a finger at her. "I sacrificed my own happiness, gave up every opportunity, and poured all my love into you, and you call me selfish?

Chloe, ask your own conscience—have I ever failed you over all these years?" "Yes, you did!" she shrieked back, refusing to back down. "If you really loved me, you wouldn't hesitate to give me the money!

If you really loved me, you’d be like Eleanor, giving me whatever I want! But you always disappoint me!

I'm telling you, you must give me that $150,000 today, or I’ll tell all our relatives that you left me to die!

I’ll let everyone see what a selfish monster you really are!" I forced down the searing pain in my chest and spoke slowly. "Fine.

I'll give it to you." Chloe instantly stopped crying, a triumphant, smug smile appearing on her face. "I knew you loved me most, Mom!" I told her to come pick up the savings passbook tomorrow.

She left happily, but not before warning me, "Don't go back on your word, Mom.

I'll be here first thing in the morning." After she left, I sat alone in the empty house and pulled out all the ledgers of the money I had spent on her over the years.

From her school tuition and allowance to her wedding dowry and jobloss subsidies, I had filled several notebooks.

I also found my divorce agreement from years ago, which stated: "The wife voluntarily waives all marital assets and only requests sole custody of her daughter." Looking at these papers, a bitter wave of clarity washed over me.

I made my decision. The next morning, I didn't wait for her at home. Instead, I took my savings passbook and the ledgers, and drove straight to a notary public office.