My Daughter-in-Law Broke My Arm Because I Wouldn’t Give My Son the $4 Million Lottery Jackpot I Won.

“Sign those papers, or next time I’ll break your other arm!” Megan threatened.

She let me go, and I fell to the floor like a dirty rag. Theo looked down at me without a hint of compassion in his eyes.

“You have until 10:00 in the morning tomorrow to decide, Mom. Either you come with us to the bank and sign everything, or Megan and I will make sure you learn things the hard way,” Theo said.

They headed for the door as if nothing had happened.

“Oh, and Beatrice,” Megan shouted from the entrance.

“Tomorrow when we go to the bank, you’re going to say you’re giving us this money out of love for your grandchild. You’re going to smile and act like the happy grandmother you should be, because if you don’t, I swear on this child I’m carrying that I will make you suffer until the day you die!” The door slammed shut with a thud that shook the whole house.

I was left lying on the floor of my own living room, crying like a lost child. My arm throbbed with pain, my cheek burned from the slap, but what hurt the most was my heart.

My own son, the reason for my existence for 32 years, had threatened me. He had betrayed me for money.

“Tomorrow you’re going to find out, my son, that your mother is not as helpless as you think,” I muttered through my tears, wiping the blood from my lip with my right hand.

Shadows of the Past and the Secret Ticket

I couldn’t sleep that night. I lay awake in my bed, staring at the ceiling as tears rolled down my cheeks.

My arm throbbed, and every movement reminded me of Megan’s cruelty. But more than the physical pain, what broke my soul was remembering how I had gotten here.

How my Theo, my adored child, had become this cold man who threatened me for money. I closed my eyes and transported myself 24 years back, when Theo was eight and his father died in that horrible construction accident.

I was left alone with a small child, with no savings, no family to help me. I worked during the day at the textile factory, and at night I cleaned offices.

I would get home at 2:00 in the morning and have to wake up at 6:00 to make Theo’s breakfast and take him to school. I remember that Christmas when he was 10.

All his classmates talked about the gifts Santa Claus had brought them: new bikes, video games, brand-name clothes. Theo came home crying because he had only received a secondhand toy car that I had bought at the flea market.

“Mom, why didn’t Santa bring me what I asked for?” He asked me with those little eyes full of tears.

That night I cried silently while he slept. The next day I sold my engagement ring, the only valuable memory I had of my husband, and bought him the bicycle he wanted so much.

When he saw it, his eyes lit up like two stars.

“Mom, Santa did remember me!” He shouted, hugging me so tight I thought he would break my ribs.

That hug was worth more than a thousand gold rings. For years, it was just him and me against the world.

When he got pneumonia at 12, I stayed up for three straight nights taking care of him. When he failed math in high school, I took on two extra jobs to pay for private tutors.

When he wanted to join the school’s soccer team, I spent my savings on the most expensive cleats I could find.

“Someday, Mom, when I’m big and have money, I’m going to buy you a big house so you don’t have to work so much,” He would tell me as I tucked him in at night.

At 16, Theo got his first part-time job at an auto parts store. He would come home proud, showing me his first paycheck.

“Look, Mom, now I can help with the bills too,” He would say, handing me half his salary.

I was so proud of him. My hard-working son, my responsible son, the good man he was becoming.

When he turned 18, Mr. Morris, the owner of the hardware store where I bought materials for my small weekend plumbing jobs, started courting me. He was a good man, a widower like me, with two grown children living in the United States.

He would invite me to dinner, bring me flowers, treat me like a queen. For the first time in years, I felt like a woman again, not just a mother.

“Beatrice, I’d like to ask you to be my wife,” Mr. Morris told me one Sunday afternoon after the church service.

He held a simple but beautiful ring in his trembling hands.

“I know you have Theo, but he’s a man now. We could be happy together, build a family.” My heart leaped with joy.

After so many years of loneliness, someone was offering me love. But when I got home and told Theo, his reaction made my blood run cold.

“How can you think of marrying another man?” He shouted with a fury I had never seen in him.

“My dad has only been dead for 10 years. It’s disrespectful. That old man just wants to take advantage of you!” He cried like he did when he was a child, clinging to my skirt, begging me not to abandon him.

“Son, Mister Morris is a good man. I have a right to be happy too,” I tried to explain.

But Theo became hysterical.

“No, Mom! You promised me we would always be together. If you marry him, I’ll leave home and you’ll never see me again. Choose between him and me!” That ultimatum broke me in two.

My son or my happiness. The next day, with a broken heart, I went to the hardware store to find Mr. Morris.

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t marry you,” I said, returning the ring.

He looked at me with sadness but with understanding.

“It’s because of Theo, isn’t it?” He whispered.

I just nodded with tears in my eyes.

“That boy doesn’t understand yet that you have a right to a life too, Beatrice. Someday he’s going to regret taking this chance away from you.” The years passed, and Theo stayed with me, but something had changed in our relationship.

He was no longer the affectionate boy who hugged me. He had become possessive, controlling.

He criticized everything I did, from the food I cooked to the clothes I wore.

“Mom, you’re too old to wear that color lipstick,” He would say.

“Mom, that skirt looks ridiculous on you at your age.” Little by little, without realizing it, I had started to lose my identity.

When he met Megan five years ago, I thought things would change. Finally, my son would have someone else in his life, and I could get a little freedom back.

Megan seemed so sweet at first.