ng worse. The doctors say I need a transplant soon, and… well, family is the best match.”

My body went cold.

Family.

The word echoed in my mind, bitter and sharp.

This woman, who had treated me like a parasite for years, now wanted my organ because we were family?!

I stared at her, my voice coming out in a shaky whisper. “Cynthia, I… I don’t even know if I’d be a match.”

Her face brightened, her grip tightening. “Oh, but you are!

I already checked!”

I pulled my hands away, horror washing over me. “You what?!”

She smiled, almost proudly. “I asked Dave about your blood type.

He didn’t know why, of course! But he had you guys checked the last time you went to the doctor, remember? And when he told me, I knew you’d be perfect!”

I felt violated.

This wasn’t just manipulation. This was… calculated. I remembered Dave asking us to find out what our blood types were during that visit.

He’d mentioned something about it being good to know such things for future reference, and I didn’t make a big deal of it.

But now I knew why he wanted to know.

She had planned this. She had been nice to me for weeks—no, months—all because she needed my kidney! I looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, I saw the desperation behind the smile.

But I also saw the manipulation. The entitlement.

This wasn’t about love. It was about survival.

“Of course, my Davey would do anything for his mother.

You’re perfect for this! I also matched with him, but I don’t want my baby boy to be cut,” she smiled.

I took a slow, deep breath, forcing a smile to my lips. “Cynthia, I am… so touched.

Really.”

Her eyes sparkled with hope. “Oh, Susan, I knew you’d understand!”

I leaned forward, lowering my voice to a gentle whisper. “But just like you’ve always said…” I reached across the table and patted her hand.

“Family isn’t just about blood. It’s about who we choose.”

Her face fell, the color draining from her cheeks. “What… what are you saying?”

I straightened, picking up my purse.

“I’m saying… I just don’t feel close enough to you to make that kind of commitment.”

She looked at me, her face contorting in shock and hurt. “Susan, sweetie… please. I… I’ll do anything.

We can get closer. I’ll make it up to you!”

I stood up, looking down at her, my heart strangely calm. “I’ll be sure to send you a ‘thinking of you’ card.”

And I walked out.

Dave was furious when I told him!

Not at me, but at his mom for a change! For the first time, he saw through her. He confronted her and told her how wrong she was to manipulate me.

Cynthia called, texted, and begged me.

She even showed up at our house once, tears streaming down her face. I watched her from the window, standing on the porch, looking so small and vulnerable as she offered to “make things right.”

But I didn’t open the door.

She eventually found another donor. It wasn’t me or Dave.

And once she recovered? She went right back to hating me, colder and crueler than before!

But this time, it didn’t hurt. Because now, I knew the truth.

She never wanted a daughter-in-law (DIL).

She wanted a spare body part.

And I wanted nothing to do with her.

Sadly, Susan isn’t the only daughter-in-law with a horrible mother-in-law (MIL). In the following story, Lucy’s MIL also didn’t like her but seemed to come around when she bought her and her husband a Christmas tree. On Christmas Day, something bad happened, exposing the real reason why Lucy’s MIL brought the tree.

Source: amomama