Chapter 1

I saw Emily Hughes's name on the transfer documents for our marital home.

It was on my third wedding anniversary with Andrew Hughes.

Early that morning, my mother-in-law, Maria Hughes, called me and said there was some paperwork for the house that needed an additional signature.

She told me to hurry to the Housing Authority and not delay her because she had an engagement party that afternoon and needed to go taste the food.

I assumed there was some problem with the mortgage paperwork.

But the moment I sat down, the staff member slid the documents across the desk. One glance at the top line, and I froze.

Under recipient was the name Emily Hughes.

Emily was Andrew's younger sister.

Yet my name, despite the fact that I had been making mortgage payments on the house alongside my husband, didn't even appear on the first page.

"Grace, hurry up and sign." Maria stood beside me. She beamed and spoke to the unfamiliar middle-aged couple sitting across from us. "Don't worry. The house has already been transferred to Emily. It'll definitely be taken care of before the wedding. Our family always keeps its word."

I slowly raised my head and looked at the couple.

They were the parents of Emily's boyfriend, Daniel Cowen.

In other words, the marital home that Andrew and I had spent three years paying a mortgage on, the same house my mother had put up 130 grand for as the down payment, had now become Emily's bargaining chip for her marriage.

I flipped through the document to the final page and pointed at the signature section.

"Why isn't my name here?" I asked the staff member.

The staff member glanced at me, then at Maria. His tone was hesitant. "This property was acquired after the marriage. Technically, both spouses are required to be present to sign."

"She's here now, isn't she?" Maria said with a laugh, not even guilty at all. "We're family. It's just a signature."

I didn't look at her.

Instead, I looked toward Andrew, who had just walked in.

He was wearing a neatly pressed shirt, his phone still pressed to his ear. He had obviously rushed over from the office. When he saw me sitting there, he froze for a moment, as if he'd finally realized there was no way to keep this a secret anymore.

He ended the call and walked over, lowering his voice. "Why are you here?"

I almost laughed. "Wasn't it your mother who told me to come and sign the paperwork?"

His brows twitched. He glanced at his mother, then at me. And in the end, he resorted to the same tactic he had always used whenever things got difficult.

He tried to smooth everything over.

"Emily's wedding is being rushed, so we're putting the house under her name for appearances. Once she's married, we'll transfer it back," he said.

I stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"It's just paperwork," he replied, way too casually. "Don't overthink it."

I slammed the document shut. "My mom put up 130 thousand dollars for the down payment. I paid for the renovations out of my own savings.

"Half the mortgage gets pulled from my account every single month. And now you're telling me we're giving it to your sister first as some kind of bargaining chip?"

Andrew's face darkened. He clearly hadn't expected me to lay it all out in front of strangers.

Daniel's mom had stopped smiling, her eyes scanning my face, sizing me up.

Maria jumped in, her voice rising. "Grace, what's with the attitude? Emily's your sister-in-law. Why can't you help her out? It's not like you two will be homeless or anything."

"Where are we supposed to live?" I shot back. "Are we supposed to be her tenants now, living in the house that's been transferred to her?"

"Why are you being so harsh?" Maria snapped.

"Are my words harsh, or are your actions disgraceful?" I shot back.

Maria slammed her hand on the table. "It's my son's money that bought the house, so he can give it to whoever he pleases."

"Oh, really?" I pulled up my phone, scrolled to the transfer records, and held it up for Maria to see. "Here's the 130 thousand dollars my mom sent to Andrew.

"Here's the contract with the renovation company. And here are the records for all thirty-six mortgage payments. Want me to read you the chat logs from the real estate agent on the day we bought the house?"

Maria's face fell.

She definitely hadn't expected me to have all the receipts.

Andrew frowned. "Grace, let's talk about this at home."

"Why should we talk about it at home?" I shot back, looking at him. "You guys tricked me into coming to the real estate office and made me sign before Emily's future in-laws, so why can't I get some answers right here, before everyone?"

The staff member was getting uneasy. He cleared his throat. "If you two can't agree, we can't proceed with the transfer today."

Daniel's mom jumped in. "Andrew, what's going on here? Didn't you say the house was all set?"

Emily rushed in, her makeup only half done, her eyes already brimming with tears. "Grace, do you really have to make a scene today? My engagement is next week."

I turned to her. "I'm making a scene?"

"You're being stingy about the house, aren't you?" Emily snapped, her jaw tight. "Why don't you and my brother simply buy another one?"

I couldn't help but laugh.

Wow, that was rich.

They used my money, my house, and my marriage as stepping stones, and now I was the one being called stingy.

I didn't bother with her anymore. I turned my attention back to Andrew. "Give me a real answer, right now.

"I'm not putting my name on that paper today, and you're not getting your hands on the house. If your mom and your sister mean more to you than I do, then say it."

Andrew was visibly irritated.

Making decisions was his worst nightmare.

He paused for a couple seconds, then finally spoke.

He said, "Grace, if you're going to insist, there's nothing I can do.

"Emily's wedding can't wait. Whether you want to cooperate or not is up to you."

Up to you.

Those words again.

Three years of marriage, and I'd lost count of how many times he'd said that to me.

Wedding ceremony? Up to me.

What kind of ring? Up to me.

Kids or no kids? Up to me.

Want your mom to move in? Up to me.

Thinking about quitting my job to help at your company? Up to me.

When I had a fever of 102.2°F and asked him to come home early, he said he was busy, the meds were in the drawer, and it was up to me if I took them.

Every time, he'd throw the decision at me, acting like he was giving me respect.

But in reality, he simply didn't want to take responsibility for anything.

All the benefits went straight to the Hughes family, and I was left to deal with all the fallout.

I stared at him, and for a moment, the man in front of me felt like a total stranger.

No, it wasn't that he was a stranger.

It was that I finally saw him for who he really was.

"Fine," I said, nodding. "Then it's my call."

I grabbed my bag and walked out.

Emily screamed after me, "What kind of attitude is that, walking out like this?"

Maria yelled even louder, "Grace, if you walk out that door today, don't think about coming back to the Hughes family."

I didn't look back.

When I walked out of the real estate office, the sun was blazing.

Standing on the steps, it suddenly hit me. Today was actually my wedding anniversary with Andrew.

Three years ago, when we went to get our marriage certificate, he showed up an hour late from work. There was no flowers, no ring, and I had to ask a random passerby to snap our photo outside city hall.

I remember asking him if he thought we were rushing things.

He simply slipped the certificate into his bag and said, "We're married now, the ceremony doesn't matter. It's up to you what you want to live."

Back then, I thought that was kind of nice.

At least he wasn't controlling or overbearing.

But now I finally got it. Someone who said "up to you" to everything wasn't giving me freedom.

He simply never thought your feelings were worth responding to, not from the very beginning.

As soon as I got in the car, my phone started blowing up.

The Hughes family group chat, "One Loving Family," was going crazy, messages jumping out rapidly.

Maria sent a sixty-second voice note, crying her eyes out and making a scene, saying I was heartless and that I'd ruined Emily's wedding.

She added that after three years in the Hughes family, I still hadn't gotten pregnant and my attitude getting worse and worse.

Emily added: [Grace, I've always treated you like my own sister. Do you really have to make things so hard for me right before my engagement?]

Then the rest of the Hughes relatives started piling on.

Some said I was after the money.

Some called me unreasonable.

And then there were the ones acting all high and mighty, saying, [We're all family, don't make things so ugly.]

I watched the chat for a couple of minutes, then dropped a few screenshots right into the group.

The first one was the bank transfer record for the 130 thousand dollars my mom put down as the down payment.

The second was the renovation contract, with my signature as the contracting party.

The third was the auto-debit records for the mortgage over the past three years, with my name on the account.

The fourth was a voice-to-text message from the real estate agent when we bought the house.

The agent said, "Ms. Johnson, don't worry. Even though right now only Mr. Hughes' name is on the deed, you can always add yours after you get married. It just makes the loan approval faster."

The group chat went dead silent.

A few seconds later, Emily took back one of her texts.

Maria didn't delete anything. She probably had no clue how to do that.

I stared at the hundreds of unread messages, and suddenly had no urge to respond.

I turned off the group chat notifications, tossed my phone onto the passenger seat, and drove straight home to that so-called wedding house.

The door code hadn't been changed.

When I walked in, the anniversary cake I'd bought last night was still sitting in the living room, untouched.

On the coffee table was a gift bag with a scarf inside, the tag still attached.

I picked it out myself at the mall a few days ago, and bought it for myself.

Because I knew Andrew wouldn't remember.

I stood in the doorway, suddenly feeling exhausted.

It wasn't just today.

It was the weight of the past three years, all crashing down on me at once.