My son took the mic at the $19,000 wedding I paid for and thanked his mother-in-law as his “real mom.” The room froze. I didn’t say a word… until I delivered the moment he’ll regret forever.

“It’s a beautiful property,” Mr. Evans explained as we went up in the elevator. “Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, terrace with a panoramic view. We’ve had it listed for rent, but we haven’t found the right tenant.”

When we entered the apartment, it took my breath away. It was spectacular. Marble floors, enormous windows, a modern kitchen that looked like it was out of a magazine.

“Mr. Evans,” I said, “cancel the rental listing. I’m moving in.”

The man looked at me, confused.

“Are you sure, Mrs. Herrera? This apartment rents for $3,000 a month. Your current apartment must cost a fraction of that.”

I smiled.

“I’m completely sure. Prepare the lease.”

That night, I called a luxury moving company.

“I want you to move all my belongings from my current apartment to the penthouse of the Salarium building tomorrow,” I told them. “And I want you to hire decorators to make the place impeccable.”

The cost of the service was more than I used to spend in three months, but I no longer cared.

The next day, as the movers were packing my things, I received a call from Ethan. He had just returned from his honeymoon.

“Mom, where are you? I went to your apartment and there are moving trucks outside.”

His voice was worried—but not for me, for his plans to ask me for more money.

“I’m moving, Ethan,” I replied calmly.

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