Chapter 4 · The Baby in My Living Room Wasn't Mine

Chapter 4

By the time I got home, it was already three in the afternoon.

As soon as I opened the door, the strong smell of milk hit me.

In the living room, Anna was sitting on my couch, breastfeeding her baby.

She was wearing my silk pajamas.

Those silk pajamas cost me one thousand dollars last year, and I'd only worn them twice.

They hung loosely on her, the neckline wide open, and she wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Michael was sitting next to her, taking photos of her with his phone.

"Anna, you look so beautiful. This angle makes you look so gentle." Michael's voice was dripping with doting affection.

Margaret came out of the kitchen with a plate of soup. "Anna, drink this. I've been simmering this soup for three hours. It'll help you recover."

Anna smiled as she took the plate. "Thank you, Margaret."

I stood at the door, holding the dinner I'd bought, a twelve-dollar fast-food meal.

No one even noticed I was back.

I set the meal on the shoe rack by the door, changed my shoes, and walked into the living room.

"Oh, you're back?" Margaret glanced at me, her tone cold. "Where did you go at noon? There's so much going on at home, and all you do is run out."

"I had something to do." I walked toward the bedroom.

"Stop right there!" Margaret suddenly raised her voice.

I stopped in my tracks.

"What's with that attitude? I'm talking to you."

"Do you even know how to act like a real elder?" I turned around and looked at her.

She flinched at my glare, but quickly got defensive again. "What do you mean? How am I not acting like your elder?"

"Would a real elder make their daughter-in-law take care of the other woman's kid?

"Would a real elder let the other woman move into the house the daughter-in-law paid for?

"Would a real elder take all the money the daughter-in-law gives for living expenses and keep it for herself?"

I fired off each question, every word hitting like a slap.

Margaret's face flushed red. "Y-You're talking nonsense."

"Nonsense?" I let out a cold laugh, pulled out my phone, and opened up the transfer records. "From 2021 to 2024, I sent you a total of 270 thousand dollars, and each was marked 'For Mom and Dad.'

"And last week, Michael transferred 120 thousand dollars to you from our joint account. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

The numbers on the screen were crystal clear, and Margaret's face went from red to pale.

Michael stood up, stepping in front of his mother. "You checked my mom's account?"

"It's a joint account. I have every right to check it."

"Emily, don't go too far." Michael's voice was laced with a threat.

I ignored him and turned to Margaret. "After the 30th, I'm taking back every dollar, legally. I won't leave a single dollar behind."

"How dare you!" Margaret shrieked, her voice so shrill it nearly made my ears bleed. "I'm your mother-in-law. How dare you sue me?"

"When you're not my mother-in-law anymore, what's stopping me?" With that, I turned and walked toward the bedroom.

Behind me, I heard Margaret burst into tears. "Michael, look at what you married. She's an ungrateful brat. We treated her so well, and now she's trying to sue us."

Michael tried to comfort her, but his eyes were shooting daggers at me.

I closed the bedroom door, leaned against it, and took a deep breath.

My phone buzzed.

It was a message from Monica: [Emily, I ran into Maya downstairs. She said she saw a young woman carrying a baby into your place, and she was wearing pajamas. What's going on?]

I looked at the message, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

Word sure got around fast.

I didn't bother replying. I set my phone aside and opened my laptop.

238 unread emails were waiting for me. The top one was from Benjamin. [Ms. Carter, the Johnson Group case is set for 10 AM tomorrow.

[The opposing counsel is Richard Stone. Are you sure you don't want me to let the judge know you'll be there?]

I glanced at the time.

It was 3:27 PM.

The hearing was set for 10 AM tomorrow.

There were 44 hours left until the mandatory pre-divorce separation period ended.

I quickly replied to the email: [No need. Proceed as planned.] Then I sent it off.

Next, I opened another email: the partner meeting notes from Capitavia Legal Partners. [Ms. Carter's break is almost over. She'll be back at work on the 15th next month. All partners, please get ready to transfer your cases.]

I shut my laptop and flopped onto the bed.

Outside, the sky was getting darker.

From outside the bedroom door, I could hear Anna laughing, Margaret bragging about how the baby looked like Michael, and Michael saying, "From now on, the four of us will live like a real family."

Just the four of them, and I wasn't one of them.

I closed my eyes. Forty-four hours left. In forty-four hours, they would finally understand what real regret felt like.

Chapter 4

By the time I got home, it was already three in the afternoon.

As soon as I opened the door, the strong smell of milk hit me.

In the living room, Anna was sitting on my couch, breastfeeding her baby.

She was wearing my silk pajamas.

Those silk pajamas cost me one thousand dollars last year, and I'd only worn them twice.

They hung loosely on her, the neckline wide open, and she wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Michael was sitting next to her, taking photos of her with his phone.

"Anna, you look so beautiful. This angle makes you look so gentle." Michael's voice was dripping with doting affection.

Margaret came out of the kitchen with a plate of soup. "Anna, drink this. I've been simmering this soup for three hours. It'll help you recover."

Anna smiled as she took the plate. "Thank you, Margaret."

I stood at the door, holding the dinner I'd bought, a twelve-dollar fast-food meal.

No one even noticed I was back.

I set the meal on the shoe rack by the door, changed my shoes, and walked into the living room.

"Oh, you're back?" Margaret glanced at me, her tone cold. "Where did you go at noon? There's so much going on at home, and all you do is run out."

"I had something to do." I walked toward the bedroom.

"Stop right there!" Margaret suddenly raised her voice.

I stopped in my tracks.

"What's with that attitude? I'm talking to you."

"Do you even know how to act like a real elder?" I turned around and looked at her.

She flinched at my glare, but quickly got defensive again. "What do you mean? How am I not acting like your elder?"

"Would a real elder make their daughter-in-law take care of the other woman's kid?

"Would a real elder let the other woman move into the house the daughter-in-law paid for?

"Would a real elder take all the money the daughter-in-law gives for living expenses and keep it for herself?"

I fired off each question, every word hitting like a slap.

Margaret's face flushed red. "Y-You're talking nonsense."

"Nonsense?" I let out a cold laugh, pulled out my phone, and opened up the transfer records. "From 2021 to 2024, I sent you a total of 270 thousand dollars, and each was marked 'For Mom and Dad.'

"And last week, Michael transferred 120 thousand dollars to you from our joint account. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

The numbers on the screen were crystal clear, and Margaret's face went from red to pale.

Michael stood up, stepping in front of his mother. "You checked my mom's account?"

"It's a joint account. I have every right to check it."

"Emily, don't go too far." Michael's voice was laced with a threat.

I ignored him and turned to Margaret. "After the 30th, I'm taking back every dollar, legally. I won't leave a single dollar behind."

"How dare you!" Margaret shrieked, her voice so shrill it nearly made my ears bleed. "I'm your mother-in-law. How dare you sue me?"

"When you're not my mother-in-law anymore, what's stopping me?" With that, I turned and walked toward the bedroom.

Behind me, I heard Margaret burst into tears. "Michael, look at what you married. She's an ungrateful brat. We treated her so well, and now she's trying to sue us."

Michael tried to comfort her, but his eyes were shooting daggers at me.

I closed the bedroom door, leaned against it, and took a deep breath.

My phone buzzed.

It was a message from Monica: [Emily, I ran into Maya downstairs. She said she saw a young woman carrying a baby into your place, and she was wearing pajamas. What's going on?]

I looked at the message, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

Word sure got around fast.

I didn't bother replying. I set my phone aside and opened my laptop.

238 unread emails were waiting for me. The top one was from Benjamin. [Ms. Carter, the Johnson Group case is set for 10 AM tomorrow.

[The opposing counsel is Richard Stone. Are you sure you don't want me to let the judge know you'll be there?]

I glanced at the time.

It was 3:27 PM.

The hearing was set for 10 AM tomorrow.

There were 44 hours left until the mandatory pre-divorce separation period ended.

I quickly replied to the email: [No need. Proceed as planned.] Then I sent it off.

I shut my laptop and flopped onto the bed.

Outside, the sky was getting darker.

From outside the bedroom door, I could hear Anna laughing, Margaret bragging about how the baby looked like Michael, and Michael saying, "From now on, the four of us will live like a real family."

Just the four of them, and I wasn't one of them.

I closed my eyes. Forty-four hours left. In forty-four hours, they would finally understand what real regret felt like.