A Father-in-Law’s 20-Year Stay Without Any Expense, Followed by a Shocking Revelation
I entered matrimony at thirty years old, with no particular recognition or mention in my name. My spouse’s family similarly did not enjoy financial comfort.
Her father, the elderly Mr. Sharma, was around seventy at the time, a frail and calm man who had retired from work and lived in a modest boarding house. After our wedding, he moved in with my wife and me, remaining under our roof until his passing two decades later. Throughout those twenty years, we never paid a single rupee for his fundamental needs—be it electricity, water, food, or medicine.
He neither participated in childcare nor took up cooking or housework. Some even regarded him as “the best gift” one could receive. While there were moments of frustration for me personally, I often reminded myself: “He is an elderly man, my father-in-law; if I complain, who would care for him?” Nonetheless, truthfully, I frequently harbored inner resentment. Often, after exhausting days at work, I would arrive home, open an empty refrigerator, and find them calmly enjoying tea as if the situation had no effect on them.
Then, one day, he passed away, and I thought everything would finally come to a close.
His death was peaceful at the age of 89, with no serious health complications or hospitalization. That morning, my wife gave him porridge and soon realized he was no longer breathing. I had hardly noticed his presence deeply, partly due to his advanced age and partly because over time, he had become like a shadow living in our home.
The funeral was simple. Since my wife’s family had no substantial assets, my wife and I handled all arrangements ourselves. Three days afterward, a man dressed professionally appeared at our doorstep, causing a glass of water to slip from my hands.
This visitor was a lawyer carrying numerous documents. After confirming my identity, he handed me a red notebook and said: “According to the will of the late Mr. Sharma, you are the sole heir to all his personal belongings.”
At first, I chuckled softly, assuming he was joking. “What property?” I questioned, reflecting on how my family had taken advantage of him for twenty years, and I didn’t even own a pair of slippers.
Nevertheless, the lawyer proceeded to turn page after page:
- A 115-square-meter plot of land in the city center, which had been legally transferred to my name two years prior.
- A savings account holding over 3.2 million rupees, naming me as the beneficiary.
- A handwritten letter from Mr. Sharma, asking the lawyer to stay with him: