Her Father-in-Law Forced Her, While Pregnant, to Clean the Pigsty. One Day, He Walked in After Her and Shut the Door Behind Him…
Dropping the rag into the bucket, Emma leaned against the windowsill. The dizziness and nausea were making work nearly impossible. She sat down on a stool to catch her breath. Why had she rushed to clean those windows when her pregnancy already made every task feel overwhelming?
Gazing through the newly washed glass at the freshly laundered curtains, Emma smiled. Jack was supposed to help her hang them later, and the house would finally feel a bit more like home. They had been married for just four months, and now it was her turn to bring order to her father-in-law’s house.
The very first morning after the wedding, Jack’s mother, Margaret, had scolded her husband:
“Get up! We have to water the garden before everything dries up!”
Emma felt sorry for her father-in-law, Henry, and took a watering can to help. Returning to the house, she found herself scrubbing a mountain of dishes while the men snored away in their beds. Margaret had left early to sell vegetables at the market.
That morning, Emma paused to reflect on her new life. After the endless scrubbing and chores, she sank into a chair. Was this really what her life would be like from now on? No—surely it was just the stress of the past few days. Things would settle down, and Margaret would eventually appreciate her, especially since Emma loved her son so much.
Trying to prove herself, Emma headed down to the cellar for ingredients and started preparing lunch. The delicious smells brought the men to the kitchen.
They didn’t admire the simmering soup or tender meat for long before grabbing spoons and digging into Emma’s cooking. She hoped they enjoyed it—and that Margaret, when she returned from the market, would offer some praise.
But Emma had hoped in vain. From the doorway, sniffing the air, Margaret began to grumble. And when she peeked into the pot, her anger erupted. Emma had never heard so many harsh and insulting words aimed at her. Margaret berated her for wasting food and insisted she economize the pantry.
Emma looked to Jack and Henry for support, but they sat in silence, eyes lowered like guilty children.
That evening, Jack explained that in their family, the better food was saved to sell. Emma couldn’t understand it. She hadn’t grown up in the city either, but her mother never withheld vegetables from the family table. They didn’t take their surplus to the market—they simply shared it.
Half the night, Emma couldn’t sleep. Her mother had warned her about marrying into this family. She’d never liked Jack’s parents. But Emma hadn’t listened. She’d been too in love with her tall, dark-haired Jack. They had enrolled in college together, but he hadn’t scored high enough to get in. They’d fallen for each other in the student dorm, and soon after, Emma found out she was pregnant.
Jack hadn’t been thrilled, but he promised to take care of her. They agreed to leave the baby with Jack’s parents after the birth so they could return to school.
As the days passed, Emma’s life grew harder. Her pregnancy advanced, and physical labor became more draining, but no one seemed to care. Margaret treated her like a servant. Jack was more absent than ever, always with his friends.
One morning, as Emma was washing clothes outside, Henry approached.
“The pigsty needs cleaning,” he said bluntly, pointing to the shed. “As long as you’re living here, you’ll do your share.”
Emma glanced at the shed and then at her belly, which was now visibly round. She was already worn out from the washing.
“But… I’m pregnant…” she whispered.
“Pregnant?” he scoffed. “You’re young and strong. Back in my day, women worked in the fields up until labor!”
With a heavy heart, Emma made her way to the pigsty. The stench overwhelmed her, but her fear of being judged was greater than her nausea. Maybe if she pushed through, she would finally earn some respect. She grabbed a shovel and bucket, entered the tight space, and began to clean.
A few minutes later, she heard the door open—and then shut. Her father-in-law had followed her inside. The light dimmed, and his eyes held a strange glint.
“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” he said, moving closer. “If Jack’s not giving you attention, maybe I should.”
Emma froze in panic.
“You’re mistaken. Please open the door,” she said, gripping the shovel.
“Why the rush? No one’s coming. Margaret’s at the market. Jack’s at his friend’s house—he won’t be back until tonight.”
He moved closer. Emma caught the sharp scent of alcohol on his breath. Her instincts screamed. In one swift motion, she raised the shovel and shoved him back, creating distance.
“If you don’t open this door right now, I’ll scream!”
Startled by her sudden resistance, Henry hesitated. Just then, Jack’s voice echoed from the yard.
“Dad? Emma? Where are you?”
Henry rushed to open the door.
“We’re just cleaning the pigsty,” he muttered, trying to act casual.
Jack appeared in the doorway, confused.
“I thought you were at Mike’s.”
“Forgot my wallet,” Jack said. Then, looking at Emma: “What are you doing out here? In your condition…”
Emma, trembling, stepped out. Jack’s gaze flicked between his wife and father, suspicion growing.
“A woman’s got to work, doesn’t she?” Henry said coldly. “Just like her mother-in-law.”
But something in his tone made Jack’s brow furrow.
“She’s not my mother. And she’s carrying my child,” he said firmly.
For the first time since their wedding, Jack truly looked at his wife.
That evening, Margaret returned to find the house strangely quiet. In the kitchen, Emma sat with Jack beside her.
“What’s going on? Why isn’t dinner ready?” she snapped.
“Mom, we need to talk,” Jack said in a tone Emma had never heard. “Emma and I are moving out.”
“What nonsense is this?”
“We’ve arranged to live with my professor. In exchange for helping around the house, he’s offered us a room so Emma can continue school.”
Margaret flushed with fury.
“This is how you repay us? After everything we’ve done?”
Jack met her gaze.
“Respect is mutual, Mom. And here, my wife isn’t respected.”
As Emma packed, she paused by the mirror. For the first time in months, she smiled. Tomorrow marked a new beginning—full of struggles, but with a Jack who finally seemed to understand what it meant to be a husband and a father.
At the hallway’s end, Henry stood silently, watching. She saw anger in his eyes… but also fear. Emma lifted her chin and walked past him without a word. Some secrets would remain buried—but she had reclaimed something priceless: her dignity, and her husband’s respect.