They say your first home as a couple is where your future begins. For me and Alex, it was a cozy, sunlit two-bedroom—ours, thanks to my parents’ down payment. But Alex’s mom, Barbara, saw it differently.

At our housewarming, Barbara made a “toast” that changed everything. With fake sweetness, she declared, *“Katie deserves this home more.”* Shockingly, Alex agreed: *“We’ll stay with Mom… Katie needs it. You picked everything anyway.”*

That’s when it hit me—this was planned. But my mom was ready. *“Give them the papers,”* she said. I handed over the deed, with *only my name* on it. Thanks to a prenup, everything bought with my parents’ help was mine. Barbara’s scheme collapsed. Alex stood there speechless.

*“You’re not staying,”* I said. And he left, silently.

A week later, he came back begging. But I was done. *“Love isn’t enough without respect,”* I told him.

He reached for my hand—I didn’t take it. *“I’ll pay. I’ll keep the home. You take the memory of who you used to be.”*

Then I walked out into the fresh air.

It smelled like freedom. Like home.