My Daughter Chose Her Husband Over Me — So I Walked Out. What Happened Next Left Them Desperate (2 of 3)

The chill in my chest deepened. I’d bought those Coronas for him, from my Social Security check. “Harry, I just got in. Let me put these away first.”

He finally looked at me, irritation plain. “You’re already standing. I’m comfortable.”

“This is my house,” I said.

That made him stand — slow, looming. “Your house? Funny. Tiffany and I live here. We pay the bills.”

The kitchen door creaked open. My daughter appeared.
“Your father’s being difficult,” Harry told her.
“Dad,” Tiffany sighed, “just get him the beer. It’s not worth it.”

Then came the ultimatum.
“Live by my husband’s rules,” she said, “or leave my house.”

Something in me broke. “Fine,” I said. And I went to pack.

They thought I’d cave. Instead, I took the suitcase Martha and I once carried to Yellowstone and filled it with the essentials — and her photograph. Thirty minutes later, I was driving to Pine Lodge Motel.

That night, I did the math in my head: $160,000 for Tiffany’s tuition. $25,000 for her wedding when Harry’s family couldn’t pay. $80,000 down payment for their house. Mortgage, utilities, groceries — all quietly covered by me. Five years of my life funneled into theirs.

The next morning, I started making calls.
Bank: cancel the mortgage payment.
Insurance: remove their cars from my policy.
Credit cards: cut Tiffany off as an authorized user.

By Friday, I had twenty-two missed calls. Confusion turned to anger, then desperation. Tiffany’s voice cracked: “Dad, the bank says the payment stopped. They’re threatening foreclosure.” Harry barked about insurance. By week’s end, they were begging.