Seeing that we had been talking for a while, Yvette was dissatisfied and pulled open the glass door.

"What are you whispering about? Isn't it awkward for a father-in-law and daughter-in-law to be alone together for so long? Ariana, you need to know your place and have some boundaries at home."

I nearly threw up. Her husband was nearly 60, with a face full of wrinkles and a bad odor. Did she think I wanted to stand alone with him?

Funny.

I bypassed her and went straight to the bedroom to bring in my luggage.

Seeing the bedding my mom bought for me now crumpled and dirty on the bed made me furious.

I'd toss it all out. It pained me, but I couldn't use something so filthy.

I threw everything onto the floor and opened the closet to get new bedding.

But to my surprise, the closet was full of Yvette's and Dwayne's clothes, while mine and Scott's were shoved to the very bottom, all in disarray.

I lost it and grabbed their clothes, tossing them onto the floor.

Yvette followed me in, screaming.

"What are you doing? Why are you throwing my things? This is my room, the master bedroom. Don't you understand boundaries? Get out, just get out!"

How dare she tell me to get out! I said nothing and continued tossing the items.

Yvette panicked and quickly called Dwayne in.

"Dear, can't you do something about this Ariana? Look at what she's doing!"

Dwayne, seeing his wife distressed, grabbed my arm.

"Ariana, have you no decency? She's your mother, your mother-in-law. Why are you throwing her things?"

This was insane. I stomped down hard on their clothes.

"This is my room. Why should I give it to you?"

Yvette was smug.

"I say you young people don't work hard and just want to rely on your in-laws. Now you even want to steal your in-laws' room; it's disgusting."

I glared at Dwayne; Yvette didn't know the house was mine, but he certainly did.

"I'm giving you a choice: either move to the guest room or leave. You choose."

Before Dwayne could respond, Yvette yelled.

"Bullshit! The guest room is for my daughter. If you want to stay here, you can only sleep in the study. No other room is available!"

This was outrageous! She even brought her daughter over and was staying in the guest room, which I had designed for Amy.

I angrily opened the guest room door and nearly lost it.

The pink bunk bed I had designed for my daughter was now piled with smelly dirty clothes and socks.