When my son proposed to his fiancée, I was thrilled to welcome her into our family. That was until she demanded my emerald ring as her engagement ring. What I did next was something my future daughter-in-law didn’t see coming.
Hello everyone. I’m Martha, a 48-year-old mom with a passion for jewelry design. I’ve always cherished my son Brandon’s happiness, but his fiancée, Alice, recently tested my patience in ways I never expected.
Let me take you back to where it all began.
A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney
I am the proud mother of two extraordinary children, Brandon (22) and Elisa (19). Raising them has been the joy of my life.
Brandon has always been the kind of person who aims high and works hard to achieve his goals. He recently graduated with a degree in mechanical engineering and has already landed a great job. Elisa, on the other hand, is a free spirit with a passion for art, currently studying at an art academy.
Both of them make me proud every day.
A young woman standing with her brother | Source: Midjourney
Brandon met Alice at college two years ago. He came home one night and said to my husband and me, “Mom, Dad, I met someone. Her name is Alice, and she’s amazing.”
When he first brought Alice in to meet us, I immediately took to her. She was confident, intelligent, and had a warm personality that fit perfectly into our family. She even laughed at my husband’s terrible dad jokes, which I thought was a promising sign.
Over the next two years, I saw how happy she made Brandon, and when he announced their engagement, I was truly thrilled. She was everything I had hoped for in a partner for my son.
Until she asked me something unexpected.
A young woman | Source: Midjourney
Before I get to that part of my story, let me tell you a little about my passion: jewelry.
Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been fascinated by the sparkle of gemstones and the intricate designs of rings, necklaces, and bracelets. Growing up, I didn’t have much, so buying jewelry wasn’t an option. But that didn’t stop me from dreaming of creating my own.
When I was in my twenties, I began experimenting with making simple pieces. At first, it wasn’t easy. I sketched designs on scrap paper and saved every penny to buy materials.
A woman writing in her notebook | Source: Pexels
My friends and family noticed my determination and often helped me. One year, for my birthday, my sister gave me a beautiful set of tools and said, “You’re too good not to do this.”
Over time, my skills improved.
By my thirties, I had a small collection of handmade pieces that I was proud of. Rings became my specialty, each one crafted with care and love.
Each piece had a story, and my friends often raved about them.
A woman putting a ring on her finger | Source: Pexels
“Wow, Martha, that ring is breathtaking!” exclaimed a friend at dinner. “You should open a boutique!”
Another chimed in, “If you ever stop making jewelry, I’m going to riot. They’re too beautiful not to share.”
Their encouragement meant a lot to me.
Making jewelry wasn’t just a hobby for me. It was a way to express myself. Over time, my collection grew, and each piece became a part of my life.
A close-up of jewelry in a box | Source: Pexels
So when Brandon and Alice got engaged, I knew exactly what I wanted to do.
To celebrate their engagement, I invited them to our house for dinner. I had planned a lovely evening with good food, laughter, and a ring designed especially for Alice.
It wasn’t just any ring. It was a labor of love.
I had spent weeks crafting it, carefully choosing stones and sketching a design that I felt suited her personality.
A sapphire ring | Source: Pexels
That evening, everything seemed perfect. Brandon and Alice were very happy when they arrived.
As I opened the door, I greeted them warmly.
“Alice! You look beautiful, as always,” I said.
“Thank you, Martha,” she smiled, holding up a bottle of wine. “I brought this for dinner. I hope it pairs well with whatever you’re making.”
“Mom’s cooking is always amazing,” Brandon added. “She could pair anything with water, and it would still taste good.”
We all laughed as we settled into the living room.
A woman standing in her living room at night | Source: Midjourney
After dinner, I cleared my throat and stood up, holding a small velvet box.
“Alice,” I began, “I wanted to give you something special to celebrate your engagement to Brandon. This ring is my gift. I designed it with you in mind, and I hope you love it as much as I loved making it.”
Her eyes lit up when I handed her the box. She opened it, revealing a delicate ring with a sparkling sapphire surrounded by small diamonds, set in white gold. It was elegant and timeless, and I thought she would love it.
A ring in a box | Source: Pexels
For a moment she stared at her.
Then she tilted her head.
“Oh… it’s pretty,” she said hesitantly. She paused, then glanced at the emerald ring I was wearing. It was something I had made years ago, and I cherished it deeply.
“Okay, that’s fine,” she added, her tone becoming more confident, “but I want you to give me that one!” She pointed to my emerald ring.
A young woman sitting at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney
I was speechless.
“Excuse me?” I managed, trying to keep my voice steady.
“That one,” she repeated. “It’s beautiful, and it’s the perfect engagement ring. It should be an heirloom, don’t you think?”
I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
“Alice,” I said, “this ring is very special to me. It’s one of the first pieces I ever made.”
But she didn’t seem to care. The look on her face told me she wanted the ring right away.
“I want that one,” she said, rolling her eyes.
At that point, I excused myself and went to the kitchen, needing a moment to compose myself.
A back view of a woman standing in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
When I returned, I handed him a small booklet that I had taken out of my studio.
“Here,” I told her. “This is a guide to designing your own jewelry. If you want something meaningful, you should create it yourself.”
Alice’s face turned red. She looked at the booklet, then back at me, and exploded.
“Are you kidding me?” she shouted. “That’s an insult!”
Brandon looked mortified, but Alice didn’t give him time to speak. She grabbed her purse and stormed off.
A woman walking away | Source: Pexels
The silence that followed his departure was awkward.
I exchanged a look with Brandon, who looked completely stunned.
“This is amazing,” he muttered before following her to the door.
Meanwhile, my husband gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
“You did the right thing,” he said quietly. “Some things just can’t be demanded.”
I wanted to believe it, but I could already feel the storm brewing.
A woman standing in her house at night | Source: Midjourney
Of course, Brandon called me the next day. He was very angry.
“Mom, why couldn’t you give her the emerald ring?” he asked me. “You have so many others. It would have been a nice gesture.”
“A nice gesture?” I repeated, my voice sharp. “Brandon, she didn’t ask. She demanded it. There’s a big difference.”
“Yes, but Elisa borrows your jewelry all the time!” he argued.
“Elisa borrows them,” I replied, “and then she returns them. That’s borrowing. What Alice did wasn’t borrowing. She actually wanted jewelry.”
A woman talking to her son on the phone | Source: Midjourney
Brandon sighed. “You could have avoided all of this by just saying yes.”
“No, Brandon,” I replied firmly, “I couldn’t. This ring means a lot to me. And the fact that Alice rejected the ring I designed for her without a moment’s hesitation? That tells me something.”
Brandon fell silent. “You just don’t understand,” he muttered before ending the call.
It was the first time my son had truly shut me out, and it hurt more than I wanted to admit.
A woman looking at her phone | Source: Pexels
In the days that followed, I replayed the events in my head, wondering if I had handled things the wrong way. But every time I thought about Alice’s request, I knew I had done the right thing.
My husband and Elisa supported me.
One evening during dinner, Elisa smiled and said, “Mom, you are my hero. If someone demanded my things like that, they would get such a sharp response from me.”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” I chuckled. “But I don’t want this to cause a breakup with Brandon.”
“He’ll come back to you,” my husband said confidently. “He’s smart enough to understand what’s right.”
And he was right. Sort of.
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
A few days later, Alice showed up at my door, tears in her eyes and apologetic. She hesitated on the porch, clutching a tissue.
“Martha,” she said softly, “can I come in?”
I nodded and stepped away. She sat down on the couch and looked at me.
“I’m so sorry,” she began. “I acted like a spoiled brat. I crossed the line, and I hope you can forgive me.”
I studied her carefully, looking for signs of insincerity, but saw only sincere regret.
A young woman sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
“Apology accepted,” I said. “But Alice, you need to understand something. In this family, we value respect and thoughtfulness. This emerald ring means a lot to me, and it’s not your place to ask for it.”
“I know,” she agreed. “It’s just… I wanted something ‘special’ and I didn’t think twice about how rude I was.”
“Special things aren’t just given,” I told him kindly. “They have to be earned.”
We hugged, and I hoped it marked a new beginning. But a nagging thought remained in the back of my mind. Was this just another bad time for Alice, or had I glimpsed something deeper?
Only time will tell.
A woman standing by a window | Source: Midjourney
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This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the story. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims regarding the accuracy of events or character portrayals and are not responsible for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and all opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the opinions of the author or publisher.
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