My Mother Demanded I Divorce My Husband And Give Him Our House Because He Got My Sister Pregnant. Little Do They Know, I’m A Cfo And Have Already Secured The Assets. How Do I Tell Them They’re Now Trespassing On My Property?

The Family Attack

The peace, however, was short-lived. Greg didn’t just leave; he went straight to Command Central—my parents’ house—and activated the support network psychologists call “flying monkeys”: the people a narcissist manipulates into tormenting their victim. My family was a whole air force of them.

It started with a text alert on my phone about 10 minutes after Greg left. Then another. Then a flood.

Aunt Lydia: Veronica, I heard what happened. I am so disappointed in you. Throwing the father of a pregnant woman out on the street? Where is your conscience?

Cousin Mike: Dude, just give Greg the house. You’re rich. Don’t be a bitch.

Even my grandmother, who could barely text: Family helps family. Shame on you, Veronica.

They had the narrative perfectly aligned. In their version, I was the vindictive rich wife punishing two star-crossed lovers. No one mentioned the adultery. No one mentioned the sisterly betrayal. It was all focused on the innocent baby and my selfishness.

Then the email arrived. The subject line was simply: The Solution. It was from my father, with my mother, Greg, and Barbara CC’d. I sat down at my kitchen table and opened it.

Veronica, we are appalled by your behavior today. Kicking Greg out when he was trying to be civil was uncalled for. We need to settle this matter privately without expensive lawyers who will only drain family resources. Here is the proposal we have agreed upon as a family:

1. You will immediately sign over the deed to the house on Maple Street to Greg and Barbara. This will provide stability for your future nephew/niece. 2. You will pay alimony to Greg for a period of 5 years, considering he sacrificed his career to support yours.

I laughed out loud at this one. Sacrificed what? His high score in Call of Duty?

3. You will pay a one-time sum of $50,000 for the emotional distress caused to Barbara during this transition. 4. You will agree to a quick no-fault divorce. In return, Greg will agree not to pursue his legal claim to 50% of your current company stock.

This is a generous offer, Veronica. If you refuse, we will support Greg in a full-scale legal battle. We will testify that you were emotionally abusive and neglectful. Also, remember you have a responsibility to this child. Do not punish an innocent baby for your jealousy.

Love, Dad

I stared at the screen, my vision blurring with rage. They wanted me to pay Barbara for emotional distress? They wanted me to pay alimony to the man who was stealing from me? And the threat—they would testify against me. My own parents were willing to commit perjury to destroy me, just to prop up Barbara. It was breathtaking in its audacity.

They were counting on my guilt. They were counting on my lifetime of trying to please them. They thought if they pushed hard enough, the old Veronica, the shadow sister, would break just to make the yelling stop.

I started typing a furious reply: Are you insane? He cheated on me! She’s my sister!

But my finger hovered over the send button. No. This is what they wanted. They wanted an emotional reaction. They wanted me to engage, to argue, to plead. If I’m arguing, I’m negotiating. And you don’t negotiate with terrorists.

I deleted the draft. Instead, I printed the email. I printed the text messages. I went to my home office and printed the bank statements showing Greg’s theft. I printed the credit card receipts for the Miami trip. I created a physical folder. I labeled it WAR.

My phone rang. It was my mother. I let it go to voicemail. It rang again. My father. Voicemail. Then the landline rang. They were relentless. I unplugged the landline. I put my cell on “Do Not Disturb,” allowing calls only from my inner circle, which sadly was a very short list.

I felt a sudden crushing wave of isolation. I had lost everyone. My husband, my sister, my parents, my extended family. Even the neighbors might turn on me once the gossip mill started. I was the villain in their story, and nothing I said would change that because the truth was inconvenient for them. The truth required them to admit that Barb was a homewrecker and Greg was a failure. It was easier to make me the monster.

I walked to the window and looked out at the rain. I needed an ally. I needed someone who knew the real story.