Chapter 1

I was three months pregnant, and my morning sickness was brutal.

But right then, my husband, Andrew Bennett, dropped a bombshell that he wanted to bring his daughter, Lily Bennett, from his ex-wife into our home.

"She's got depression and needs a father's love," he explained.

I nodded calmly. "Sure."

His face lit up, but I pointed at the door. "Bring her mom too. The three of you can stay in the guest room. I'll take the master bedroom."

His face went pale, and right then, his ex-wife's call came through.

The ringtone cut through the silence in the living room.

On the screen, the name "Emily Carter" flashed. She's Andrew's ex-wife, Lily's mother.

That familiar wave of nausea hit me, mixed with a suffocating, sour stench.

Andrew looked even worse than I did, his face ghostly pale, eyes darting everywhere but at me.

He gripped the phone like it was a red-hot iron.

"Answer it," I said, leaning back on the couch. My voice was soft, but there was no room for argument.

He swallowed hard as he stiffly swiped to answer. Right before hitting the hands-free button, he mouthed at me, "Please, don't embarrass her."

I ignored him, staring at him coldly.

On the other end, a woman's voice came through, so gentle that it almost sounded guilty, every word carefully chosen, with the right touch of fragility. "Andrew, have you told Sophie? It's all my fault. I can't take good care of Lily."

Her voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the air and hit me right in the nerves.

I didn't buy her performance. My gaze stayed fixed on Andrew's pale face as I repeated myself, slow and deliberate. "Let her bring her daughter here and they can stay in the guest room."

"Are you out of your mind?" Andrew finally snapped, his voice low and trembling with fear and anger. "Sophie, cut it out! Emily only wants Lily to stay, not herself."

His reaction hit me like a punch to the gut.

I let out a laugh, but there was no real joy in it. I reached out and jabbed the hands-free button with my fingertip.

That soft, fragile voice was abruptly silenced.

I spoke into the cold receiver, each word crisp and deliberate. "Hello, Ms. Carter.

"When a child is depressed, what she needs most is a complete family, the presence of her parents."

"As the stepmom, I'll make myself scarce so I won't get in the way.

"I'm making it easy for your family to reunite. You and Andrew can take the guest room with your daughter and focus on rebuilding your relationship.

"My parents paid the down payment for this place so it's my pre-marital property. I'll be staying in the master bedroom. You won't think that's a problem, will you?"

The line went completely silent.

I could just picture the look on Emily's gentle face right now. It must be a sight to behold.

"Sophie!" Andrew finally snapped, snatching the phone from my hand. His face was twisted with rage as he glared at me. "Do you have to be so cruel? Lily is my daughter. She's sick."

His voice was shaking, not from guilt, but because I'd just publicly embarrassed his beloved Emily.

He rushed out to the balcony, turning his back to me. His voice instantly switched to comfort mode, barely above a whisper, but I still caught snatches of what he was saying.

"Emily, don't pay any attention to her. She's pregnant, her moods are all over the place.

"Don't stress about it, I've got it under control.

"I'm sorry you're having to deal with this"

Every single word hit me like a sledgehammer, pounding straight into my heart.

My stomach twisted violently, and I couldn't hold it back any longer. I shot up from the couch and rushed straight to the bathroom. Acid, bile, and the oatmeal I'd barely managed to swallow at lunch all came up in a flood.

I hunched over the cold toilet, puking my guts out until I felt like my organs were rearranging themselves. Tears spilled down my face, not from emotion, just because my body was on overload.

The bathroom door creaked open a crack.

I thought maybe Andrew actually cared about me enough to have a check.

But he just stood in the doorway, seeing me all messed up. His brows were furrowed, and there wasn't a hint of concern in his eyes, just blame and impatience.

"You scared Emily. It's not easy for her, being a single mom, " he said.

His words made my heart completely turn to stone.

I looked up, my vision blurred by tears, at the man I'd loved for three years and been married to for two.

His face was still the same, refined and handsome, but now it felt so unfamiliar that it made me bitterly disappointed.

It turned out that my pain, my morning sickness, and the baby I was carrying for him, none of them mattered compared to his ex-wife saying "It's not easy."

I didn't have the strength to argue with him anymore. I leaned against the wall, wobbled to my feet, rinsed my mouth, and wiped the tears from my face.

Without a word, I walked past him and into the master bedroom.

I locked the door behind me with a click, leaving him, his so-called "hardship," and that hypocritical family of three all shut out.

That night, lying in bed, I could clearly hear the sound of tossing and turning in the living room.

Finally, there was a dull thud as a pillow was thrown onto the couch.

Andrew was making his point without a word, blaming me for being unreasonable, and making it clear he was siding with his ex-wife.

So be it.

I closed my eyes and gently rested my hand on my still-flat belly.

Andrew, this was your choice. From this moment on, I was building my walls.