At eight o’clock, the doorbell rang. Daniel’s mother entered first, followed by his father and sister, Melissa. Nobody asked how I was feeling or whether Noah had slept. His mother walked straight into the dining room and inspected the breakfast I had prepared. Then she announced that Daniel had made the right decision. She said I had become difficult since giving birth and that their family needed peace.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I reminded them that I had spent the entire night caring for their grandson while preparing their breakfast. Melissa rolled her eyes and said that motherhood was no excuse for neglecting a marriage. Then Daniel’s father opened his briefcase and placed another document on the table. It was an agreement involving our house, our savings, and Noah’s future.
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