My mother-in-law, Denise, wasn’t thrilled about me marrying her son, but I never expected her to go “that far.” When my passport vanished the morning of our honeymoon, I blamed the chaos of the wedding. Turns out, Denise had gone one step ahead by hiding it… but karma was right behind her.
They say you can’t choose your family, but if I could, I sure as hell wouldn’t choose my mother-in-law, Denise. From the moment I said “I do” to Ethan, I became her public enemy number one. Her polite smiles and passive-aggressive comments were laced with enough sugar to give you diabetes. But behind all that sweetness, I knew she hated me.
Especially after I married her “precious baby.”
A newlywed couple sealing their love with a kiss | Source: Pexels
Ethan and I had been together for five years before we tied the knot. It was long enough for me to get used to Denise’s thinly veiled digs. But I figured she’d mellow out after the wedding. Boy, was I wrong!
“She cried at the engagement dinner,” I whispered to Ethan one night, shaking my head. “Like… ugly cried.”
“She’s just emotional,” he said, brushing it off. “It’s hard for her to see me growing up.”
“Ethan, she told me she hopes I don’t ‘take you away from her.’ That’s not emotional.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know. I’ll talk to her.”
But talking didn’t change anything. If anything, Denise doubled down.
A distressed woman overwhelmed with anxiety | Source: Midjourney
When we planned our honeymoon, I was practically vibrating with excitement. Two weeks in Bali, crystal-clear water, and no phones… just Ethan and me, soaking up the sun and being disgustingly in love.
But then Denise found out our departure date. Her birthday fell smack in the middle of our trip. And, of course, that was a national tragedy.
“Mom, we’ll be gone during your birthday,” Ethan mentioned casually. “But we’ll celebrate when we return.”
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Denise’s smile flickered, just for a moment.
“Your mother’s birthday is important,” she said, her eyes locked on mine. “Surely you understand family comes first?”
An annoyed older woman staring at someone | Source: Midjourney
Before I could respond, Ethan interjected. “We’ve had these tickets booked for months, Mom. It’s non-refundable.”
I saw a flash of something darker behind her carefully cultivated exterior… something that made my skin prickle with unease.
“Sweetheart, you’ll get plenty of time for beaches. A son only gets one mother,” she murmured, her gaze boring into me. “Remember that!”
The warning hung between us, heavy and loaded with implications I couldn’t yet understand.
A frustrated woman | Source: Midjourney
I bit the inside of my cheek. I wasn’t about to get sucked into another guilt trip.
Ethan didn’t budge, though. “We’re going, Mom. End of discussion.”
“I thought that was it — the Denise drama had finally taken its last bow. But nope, plot twist!
***
The morning of our departure arrived like any other. Our suitcases stood packed by the door, crisp white tags declaring “Bali” in bold letters. Ethan hummed as he checked our travel documents one last time.
“Passport?” he asked, glancing my way, holding his document.
I reached for my travel wallet. I checked the drawer where I always kept important documents. My heart began to race.
“Ethan,” I called, my voice trembling, “I can’t find my passport.”
“WHAT??!”
A man holding his passport | Source: Unsplash
We searched everywhere. Kitchen counters. Bedroom dresser. Living room side tables. Each minute that passed felt like a knife twisting in my stomach. The flight was in three hours, and without identification, I’d never make it through airport security.
Denise appeared in the doorway. “Oh, honey, what happened?”
“We can’t find Vika’s passport,” Ethan muttered, pacing.
Denise’s eyes flicked to me, sympathy plastered on her face.
“Such a shame. You two were so excited. Have you checked everywhere, dear? These things happen in the excitement of wedding preparations.”
I felt sick. Had I lost it in the chaos of the wedding? But I wasn’t careless… not like this.
A shocked older woman | Source: Midjourney
Ethan was on the phone with the airline, his jaw clenched. I could see the frustration etching lines around his eyes. “No, we can’t just get a replacement today!” he muttered into the phone.
Tears burned behind my eyes. Our dream honeymoon, months of planning, saving, and anticipating… everything slipped through our fingers like sand.
“Ethan, honey,” Denise said softly, her hand on his arm. “Why don’t you come with me on my birthday trip while Vika gets her new passport sorted? I mean, you shouldn’t waste the time off…”
Ethan’s eyes snapped to mine, and I could see the conflict swirling in them.
A distressed man | Source: Midjourney
“Go,” I whispered, barely able to get the word out.
“Vika, no —”
“It’s fine. Go. I don’t want to ruin your plans.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
I forced a smile, but it felt like my face was cracking. “Just… go.”
“I’ll start packing!” Denise chirped, looking positively gleeful.
***
I sat on the couch, numb, watching Denise load her bags into the car trunk. I fought back the tears, but the moment the car pulled away, taking months of my dream planning with it, I couldn’t hold them back anymore.
A sad woman | Source: Midjourney
An hour passed. Then my phone rang. It was Ethan.
“You’re not going to believe what just happened,” he said, sounding alarmed.
“What?”
“Mom’s at the airport security. And you won’t believe WHY.”
A shaken woman | Source: Midjourney
The story spilled out in breathless fragments: At the airport’s security checkpoint, TSA agents had pulled Denise aside. It turned out, something was wrong with her passport. When they began searching her bag, Ethan noticed something familiar.
“Wait a second,” he’d said to the security officer, pulling out a small blue booklet. “This is my wife’s passport.”
I could hear the tremor in his voice when he recounted it all. “She took it, Vika. She actually took YOUR passport to keep us from going on our honeymoon.”
“What?” I gasped. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious. She’s being interrogated right now. They think she was trying to commit identity fraud.”
A startled woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
In the background, I could hear Denise pleading with someone. Her normally composed tone was replaced by panic.
“She claimed she ‘accidentally’ picked up the wrong document,” Ethan explained. “And honestly… I think she did. But that doesn’t change the fact that she deliberately hid it in the first place to ruin our trip.”
“What’s happening now?”
“Security’s taking her to a back room. I’m not helping her. She tried to sabotage our honeymoon. She dropped the axe on her own foot.”
I could hear the hurt in his voice — not just anger, but a profound disappointment in his mother’s actions.
“The officer asked if I wanted to press charges. Can you believe that?”
A moment of silence stretched between us.
Officers in an interrogation room | Source: Pexels
“Pack your bags,” he finally said. “We’re leaving tonight. Our honeymoon isn’t canceled… it’s just delayed.”
A small smile tugged at my lips as I realized something profound: love isn’t about blood. It’s about choosing each other, standing together against anyone who might try to tear you apart.
***
The airport café buzzed with travelers, but all I could hear was Ethan’s voice.
“I can’t believe she would do this,” he said, stirring his coffee with more force than necessary. “All these years, I thought she just struggled with letting go.”
I reached across the table, touching his hand. “Tell me everything.”
Grayscale shot of a woman holding a man’s hand | Source: Unsplash
Ethan’s eyes darkened. “When security pulled her aside, she started crying. Not real tears… those manipulative ones she’s always used.”
“What did she say?”
“First, she tried to play the victim. Said she was ‘just worried about me’ and ‘wanted to spend time together.’ Can you believe that?”
“And the officer?”
“He was not impressed,” Ethan chuckled bitterly. “He asked her to explain why she had your passport. Her story kept changing.”
A couple smiling | Source: Midjourney
“What broke her?” I asked.
Ethan’s laugh was sharp. “When the officer asked if she understood the legal implications of identity theft, she went white. She kept mumbling about ‘just wanting to be close to her son.'”
“And you?” I squeezed his hand.
“I told the officer everything. How she’s always been possessive. How she tried to manipulate our wedding plans. Our entire relationship.”
A shaken woman in an interrogation room | Source: Midjourney
“Were you angry?”
“Disappointed,” he corrected. “I watched my mother try to destroy my marriage. And for what? Because she can’t accept that I’m an adult who loves his wife?”
I saw the pain behind his words. This wasn’t just about a stolen passport. This was about a lifetime of emotional manipulation finally coming to light.
“We’re still going to Bali,” he said firmly. “Nothing… not her, not anyone… is stopping our honeymoon.”
***
The resort’s balcony overlooked crystal-clear waters. Ethan stood beside me, leaning against the railing, a cocktail forgotten in his hand.
A delighted couple standing on the balcony | Source: Midjourney
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked softly.
“About my mom?”
“About everything.”
Ethan sighed. “I’ve always known she was possessive. But this? This was a new level.”
“Tell me about growing up with her.”
His laugh was bitter. “She’d call me ‘her baby’ well into my 20s. Always check my phone. Question every girlfriend. When we got engaged, she cried for days.”
“Not happy tears?”
“Definitely not,” he said. “More like funeral tears. As if I was dying instead of starting a new chapter.”
An emotional man | Source: Midjourney
“Remember how she kept saying, ‘I hope she doesn’t take you away from me’?” Ethan shook his head. “I thought it was just her being dramatic. Now I see it was a warning.”
“What happens next?”
“We live,” he said. “We enjoy our honeymoon. We build our life… on our terms.”
The ocean waves crashed below, a rhythmic reminder of life’s constant motion.
“Happy honeymoon!” I whispered.
Ethan pulled me close. “Happy us!”
A man hugging his wife | Source: Midjourney
On the last day of our honeymoon, the phone rang. Ethan’s hand hovered over it, hesitation etched across his face.
“It’s her,” he said flatly.
I watched him, waiting.
“Should I answer?” he asked, looking at me.
“That’s your decision,” I responded carefully.
He took a deep breath and pressed the speaker button.
“Hello, Mom…”
A man holding his phone | Source: Unsplash
Silence crackled for a moment. Then, Denise’s voice, softer than I’d ever heard, filled the silence. “Sweetheart, we need to talk.”
“About what?”
“About what happened at the airport. About us.”
“What is there to talk about? You stole my wife’s passport. You tried to sabotage our honeymoon.”
“I was just —”
“Just what? Just trying to control my life? Just trying to keep me from being happy?”
An upset older woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
Denise’s voice trembled. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
“Love isn’t possession, Mom. Love isn’t manipulation.”
I could hear her breathing, ragged and desperate. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’re losing me right now… by not understanding boundaries.”
“Can we meet?” she pleaded. “Just to talk?”
Ethan looked at me, and I gave a small nod.
“Fine. But on my terms. No games.”
After he hung up, silence filled the room.
A couple sitting together | Source: Midjourney
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m setting myself free.”
“We’re okay,” I whispered.
Ethan pulled me close. “We’re more than okay. We’re us.”
Outside, the world continued. But inside our room, something had shifted. A line had been drawn, a boundary was established, and healing had begun.
An emotional man hugging his wife | Source: Midjourney
Here’s another story: My mother-in-law took back the bike she gifted my daughter… yeah, she stole it. But what really got me was the ridiculous reason behind it.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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