I had always been a simple woman with simple dreams — work, a few hobbies, maybe some travel, and a family. I never expected life to be a fairy tale.
Then I met Dylan.
My friends raved about him like he was a real-life Prince Charming, and the moment he took my hand, I understood why. Life with him felt effortless, joyful — even the small, domestic things felt magical.
One night at our favorite trattoria, Dylan proposed — right there on the street, promising love even on oat milk-forgetting days. I said yes without hesitation. Everything felt perfect.
Until he said, “It’s time you meet my mom.”
That weekend, we drove to the countryside to meet Elen, who greeted me in head-to-toe pink, smelling of roses and judgment. She coughed at my jasmine perfume, critiqued my job, and by dessert, handed me a list: “10 Rules for the Ideal Future Daughter-in-Law.”
The list demanded everything — from losing 10 pounds to giving her a house key. It was clear: this was no fairy tale.
Instead of confronting Dylan immediately, I decided to play along — with a twist. The next weekend, I “cleaned” Elen’s house by turning everything upside down: dyed her sheets pink, filled her home with jasmine scent, and hid her beloved Cupid statue.
The next morning, Elen stormed into my apartment, furious. Dylan overheard everything — including her crazy list.
At last, he saw the truth. As I headed out for Zumba, Dylan turned to his mom and said, “We need to talk. And this time, you need to listen.”
I smiled, knowing our future was ours to build — without pastel pink rules.
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