My sister-in-law wasn’t simply borrowing the clothes.
She was selling them.
I took screenshots of everything and marched downstairs.
“Nick, your sister is selling my maternity clothes.”
He glanced at my phone.
“Maybe some of them don’t fit.”
“They fit me!”
“Why are you making everything about yourself?”
For several seconds, I couldn’t speak.
Then he turned up the television volume.
That was the moment I realized reasoning with him wasn’t going to work.
At 7:18 that evening, I called his mother.
Elaine Keller was sixty-four, a retired schoolteacher, and one of the few people in Nick’s family who had always treated me with genuine kindness.
I’d never asked her to interfere in our marriage.
But I didn’t know what else to do.
“Elaine,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady, “Nick took all my maternity clothes and gave them to Tara. She’s selling them, and he refuses to help me get them back.”
