John’s family still made their mean little comments at every gathering, like clockwork. They couldn’t resist taking their shots at my “hobby.”
“How’s the flower thing going?” Nancy would ask with that fake-concerned voice, tilting her head like she was talking to someone with a terminal illness. “Still keeping busy with your little garden project?”
“Still playing farmer out there?” Simon would chuckle, nudging his son like they shared some inside joke. “When are you going to get serious about real work?”
But I kept going, fueled partly by spite and mostly by genuine love for what I was creating. By the 18th month, I was making decent money. In fact, real money that was substantial enough to pay for groceries and utilities without touching John’s paycheck. People were starting to recommend me to their friends.
Then month 24 hit like a freight train. Orders exploded for spring weddings, graduation parties, Mother’s Day arrangements, and corporate events that wanted something special. I was booked solid for weeks in advance, turning away customers I couldn’t accommodate.
That’s when John suddenly got interested in my business. He was looking over my shoulder one evening as I updated my books and counted the day’s cash earnings. His eyes went wide like he was seeing dollar signs for the first time.
The man who’d mocked me for two years was suddenly very, very interested in what I was doing.
“Wow! I didn’t honestly think your little hobby was going to get anywhere,” he said, peering over my shoulder at the stack of twenties and fifties. “I mean, I really thought you’d give up after the first few months like you usually do with your projects.”
I kept counting, trying to maintain my composure. “Thanks for the overwhelming vote of confidence, John. Really feeling the spousal support here.”
“But now that the business is flourishing and bringing in real money, I want my fair share of the profit. And I won’t settle for less than fifty percent. That seems fair, don’t you think?”
I laughed, actually laughed out loud. “You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re not serious right now.”
“I’m dead serious, April. This is my house. You’re using my soil, my water, my electricity. Without my resources, you’d have nothing.”
I turned in my chair to face him directly, setting down the money. “Your soil? We’re married, John. Both our names are on the deed. I’ve been paying half the mortgage for years.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Actually, I owned this house long before you came along and moved in here. So it’s technically mine. Fifty percent of the profits. Period. Non-negotiable.”
“If you want to play that game, then you should know that in a divorce, half of everything would be mine anyway!” I countered, standing up to meet his gaze. “Including this house and everything in it.”
He stepped back like I’d slapped him, his face going pale with shock. “You’re being silly and dramatic. Hinting at separation just because I’m asking for something I rightfully deserve. That’s not how marriage works, April.”
“DESERVE? Excuse me? What exactly have you done to deserve anything from this business?” My voice was rising, but I didn’t care anymore. “Please, enlighten me about all your contributions.”
“I provided the land. The space. The foundation for your success,” he said, puffing out his chest like he’d built the house with his bare hands. “Without me, you’d have nothing to show for all this effort.”
“Your soil didn’t magically water itself, John. It didn’t trim flowers or arrange bouquets or stay up until 2 a.m. learning how to run a business. I did every single bit of the work while you sat inside watching TV.”
“While living in my house and using my resources, my electricity, my water!” he shot back, his voice getting louder. “Don’t forget that little detail!”
“Our house. Our resources that we both pay for. And my sweat, my time, my knowledge, and my customers that I built relationships with,” I said, my hands shaking with anger. “You didn’t lift a finger to help, but now you want half the profits? That’s not how this works.”
John crossed his arms, his jaw set in that stubborn way I knew meant he wasn’t backing down. “We’ll see about that.”
“Stop with this ‘my’ everything nonsense!” I snapped, but John just crossed his arms defiantly. “We’ll see about that, April. We’ll just see who’s right here.”
Word got back to his family about how much money I was actually making, probably through John’s big mouth at their weekly coffee meetings. Suddenly, their tune changed completely like someone had flipped a switch.
At the next family dinner, Carol was all smiles and sweetness, practically glowing with fake pride. “April, we’re so proud of how well the family business is doing! You’ve really exceeded all our expectations, dear.”
I nearly dropped my fork, staring at her in disbelief. “Family business? Since when is it a family business?”
Simon nodded along, suddenly looking all important like he was the chairman of the board. “Well, technically this is family land that’s been in our name for generations. That means it’s a family business now, doesn’t it? We all have a stake in this.”
“Your flowers are growing on our heritage,” Carol added with that condescending smile I’d grown to hate. “You should respect that legacy, dear. Honor where your success really comes from.”
Sam jumped in eagerly, sensing an opportunity for easy money. “She wouldn’t have this business without us providing the foundation. She owes the family a share of what we helped create.”
Nancy was nodding along enthusiastically, suddenly my biggest supporter. “It’s only fair, really. We supported her from the beginning, believed in her when others might not have. We deserve to see some return on that investment.”
I stared at them all, my mouth hanging open in disbelief. “Supported me? Wait! Are you kidding me right now? Is this some kind of alternate reality where words mean the opposite of what they actually mean?”
“We gave you our blessing from the very beginning,” Carol said primly, smoothing her napkin like she was discussing the weather. “We encouraged you to follow your dreams.”
“You called it embarrassing! You told me to get a retail job instead and stop wasting time in the dirt like some common farmhand!”
“We were just being cautious, looking out for your best interests,” Simon chimed in defensively. “That’s good business sense. We didn’t want you to get your hopes up and be disappointed.”
“Oh, so when I was busting my back after work, buying seeds with my own money, hauling soil until my arms ached, and arranging bouquets till 2 a.m. while you all called it a waste of time, it wasn’t a family business? Only now that it’s making real money it suddenly becomes our ‘family heritage’? Am I getting this right?”
The table went dead quiet except for the sound of someone’s fork clinking against their plate. John was staring at his food like it held the secrets of the universe, while Nancy frowned and shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
Carol’s voice turned icy cold, her fake sweetness evaporating instantly. “There’s no need to be so ungrateful, April. Family sticks together, and that’s what we’re trying to do here.”
The arguments went on for weeks, poisoning every interaction we had. Every family gathering became a tense negotiation where I felt like I was defending myself against a pack of wolves, and every conversation with John turned into another demand for money that wasn’t his.
“You’re being selfish and greedy,” he said one morning over coffee, his tone accusatory like I was the villain in this story. “This isn’t how marriages are supposed to work.”
“I’m being realistic about who actually built this business from nothing.”
“My family deserves something for their support and encouragement over the years,” he insisted, stirring his coffee with unnecessary force.
“What support? Calling my work ‘dirty play’ and telling me to get a real job?” I shot back, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay calm.
“We let you use
