🔥My In-Laws Thought I Lost My Job and Forced My Husband to Divorce Me. Silently Following My Mother's Advice, One Month Later I Made Everyone Regret It./th

🔥My In-Laws Thought I Lost My Job and Forced My Husband to Divorce Me. Silently Following My Mother’s Advice, One Month Later I Made Everyone Regret It./th

Outside, the rain fell lightly, and the wind howled through the cracks of the old windows, casting a chill into the spacious but cold living room of the Tran family. The yellow light shone down on the long wooden table, once a place where the whole family gathered, now turned into a tense meeting table. Mai sat at the far end of the table, her hands clenched tightly, her knuckles pale white.

She felt as if she were the defendant in a family court, with the supreme judge being her mother-in-law, Mrs. Hanh, a woman in her sixties, small in stature but with eyes sharp as a razor blade. In the middle of the table lay a neat white file. The label clearly read: “Mutual Divorce Agreement,” the ink fresh, the paper without a single fold.

Mrs. Hanh calmly placed her hand on the file, her hoarse voice clear and deliberate. “Sign here, this family cannot support a freeloader.” Her words fell like a knife stabbing straight into Mai’s heart. Mai briefly lowered her head to avoid her gaze but pressed her lips tightly to keep calm. No one in the room spoke, only the ticking of the wall clock interspersed with the sound of rain.

Next to her, her husband Tuan avoided his wife’s eyes. He pretended to look down, scrolling on his phone as if nothing concerned him. Mai had been used to his evasive looks for months now, yet it still hurt deeply. The atmosphere grew heavier when Aunt Thao, Mrs. Hanh’s younger sister, cleared her throat softly and poured more fuel on the fire.

“Sis, honestly, a daughter-in-law who lost her job and doesn’t bring in a single penny is just a burden. Men are tired from work already; they don’t need to worry about their wives too.” Mai heard every word as if needles pricked her skin. Three months ago, she had left her old company. The rumor that she was fired spread like lightning, and Mrs. Hanh seized it as a godsend opportunity to crush her.

In truth, Mai quit to quietly start her own business, a plan even Tuan didn’t know about. But to her in-laws, the truth didn’t matter. All they saw was an unemployed daughter-in-law eating here, sleeping here, not contributing to household expenses. Mrs. Hanh leaned on the table, her eyes drilling into Mai.

“I’ll be straightforward. Without income, you’re not capable of supporting An. The girl has to stay here; only then can we secure her future.” Mai suddenly raised her head. She was not afraid for herself, but little daughter An was her greatest weakness. Mai’s mother softly spoke up, but Mrs. Hanh raised a hand to stop her. “Don’t interfere, mother. If she can’t fulfill her duties, don’t use emotions as an excuse.”

Relatives sitting on both sides nodded, some deliberately glancing at Mai as if she were a criminal. Outside, thunder roared. Mai recalled the early days when she first became a daughter-in-law — in this very room, Mrs. Hanh once held her hand and said, “You’re my daughter now.” But now, that same hand was pushing her out the door of this house.

“Sign quickly so everything goes smoothly,” Mrs. Hanh slid the file toward Mai. Mai looked down at the empty signature line. Her hand trembled slightly, but inside, a strange spark ignited. For three months, she had silently endured, letting everyone think what they wanted. But if she signed now, all her efforts would be wasted. “I will sign,” Mai said slowly, her voice steady and loud enough for the whole room to hear. “But not today.”

Mrs. Hanh frowned. “What are you waiting for?” Mai looked up and, for the first time, met her eyes directly. “Waiting until I’m sure everything is in its right place.” The atmosphere immediately froze. Tuan looked at his wife, about to say something but then stopped.

Di Thao clicked her tongue, trying to break the silence. “What do you mean by ‘everything in its right place’? The ink is fresh and black, and the court’s certification is enough.” Mai gave a faint smile. In that moment, her face no longer showed resignation but something hard to read.

“I’d like to go to my room,” Mai said as she stood up and slowly walked past the table. Each step seemed deliberately loud on the cold tiled floor.

When the door closed behind her, the living room remained silent. Only the rain outside the porch fell heavily, as if applauding the battle that had just begun. Mai leaned against the door, closed her eyes, her heart pounding—not from fear but because she knew she had just thrown a dagger back into the pride of her in-laws. They thought she was weak and would give up.

But they didn’t know that outside, a plan was already taking shape and she would not fight alone.

That night, after the family meeting, Mai couldn’t sleep. The rain continued to fall on the tin roof in steady beats. In the small room upstairs, she sat on the bed holding little An in her arms. The girl slept soundly, breathing evenly, her small hands still gripping the hem of her mother’s shirt, as if afraid to let go lest her mother disappear.

Mai gently stroked her daughter’s hair, her heart filled with sorrow. She knew life would never be peaceful again. Her in-laws had decided to push her out the door—and even wanted to take her daughter away. If she didn’t stand up, she would lose everything.

The next morning, Mai Thu packed a few clothes and took her daughter back to her mother’s house. Mrs. Lien’s modest one-story home on the outskirts was small but warm.

Mrs. Lien welcomed the two of them with a tight hug and a determined look. “Don’t cry anymore. If they don’t want you, then you must prove that you can live without them.” Mai swallowed hard and nodded. In that moment, she knew her mother would be her strongest support moving forward.

In the following days, Mai began to lay out a plan.

Even before quitting her old company, she had nurtured the idea of starting an interior design business. She had some contacts among shop and small hotel owners but never dared to take the risk. Now, she had no way to retreat.

In the mornings, Mai sent little An to the nearby kindergarten and then rushed around meeting clients.

At night, when her daughter was asleep, she sat before her old laptop, diligently drafting and refining every detail. The lamp’s light shone on her pale face, but her eyes were brighter than ever. Some nights she stayed up until 3 or 4 a.m., sleepiness making her head drop onto the desk, but just thinking of Mrs. Hanh holding her granddaughter while she herself was pushed outside the cold door would instantly wake her.

Whenever she was tired, Mai would hear her mother’s words ringing in her head: “You can live without them.” Those words fueled her strength.

But the battle wasn’t just about exhaustion and effort—it also involved psychological blows from her in-laws.

One afternoon, while Mai was glued to a contract email on her phone, it rang—it was the kindergarten.

“Ms. Mai, An cried a lot today. She said her grandmother told her that her mother is a bad person and will be taken far away. Can you come pick her up?” Mai’s heart clenched, and she hurried to the school.

An was curled up in a corner of the classroom, her eyes red and swollen. Seeing her mother, the girl burst into tears and clung tightly to her.

“Mom, I don’t want to leave you.” Mai hugged her daughter tightly, feeling each hot tear soaking her sleeve.

She knew Mrs. Hanh was using her daughter like a dagger stabbing into her heart.

That night, Mai spoke to An. “Sweetheart, don’t believe anyone who says bad things about Mom. I am always here with you, protecting you.” But An whispered, “Grandma says you can’t take care of me, Mom.” Mai promised, “I will prove to everyone that I can.”

Mai kissed her daughter’s forehead lightly, but inside a storm was raging. She had to succeed—not just to survive but to keep her daughter with her.

For two months, Mai juggled managing projects and expanding her network. She used every skill she had learned—from convincing clients to designing 3D models. She accepted every small contract, never picky, as long as it brought money and reputation.

Then one day, opportunity came. An old colleague introduced her to the owner of a hotel chain who needed interior design for the entire lobby and guest rooms. The contract was worth hundreds of millions of dong, enough to change her position.

The negotiation lasted three days. At times Mai thought she had failed, but through perseverance and fresh ideas, she secured the deal.

When she signed the contract, her hand trembled—not from fear but because she knew she held the trump card.

That night, Mai sat in her room, the yellow light shining on the neatly placed contract on the table. Mrs. Lien entered, placed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

“Well done, my girl. Now you can hold your head high and move forward.” Mai smiled, but her eyes looked toward a distant place.