Chapter 1

Sophia York dumped a large bag of groceries onto the coffee table and turned to my husband, Ivan Jefferson.

"Lily can't have any of these," she said. "Why don't you give them to your parents instead?"

Here we go again.

Over the years, more than half of the pastries and yogurts that I'd bought had disappeared for the same reason.

Ivan gave her a dismissive wave. "Why go through all that trouble? Since she can't eat them, you can have them."

And just like that, the groceries were carried into the living room and turned into Sophia's.

"Don't worry about all that junk food," Ivan coaxed, slipping an arm around my waist. "I'll buy you other snacks, okay?"

He never lived up to his word. Instead, he'd always tell me to put up with my cravings a little longer.

"I'm going to move the knife rack, Ivan. Lily won't mind, right?" Sophia's voice rang out from the kitchen.

Before he could feed me another blueberry, Ivan paused. Then, he turned around and immediately walked into the kitchen.

He tapped her on the head affectionately as he took the knife rack from her. "Feel free to arrange things however you like."

Before long, the countertop, spice jars, cooking utensils, and even my teddy-bear hand towel had all been rearranged to Sophia's preferences.

I personally arranged the kitchen when Ivan and I first got married.

Back then, he'd wrap his arms around me and smile dotingly while saying, "This is our home now, Lily."

The blueberry in my mouth suddenly began to taste bitter.

I opened the refrigerator and found the shelves had been rearranged too. The top shelf, where I had always kept my milk, was now filled with vegetables. The bottom shelf, by contrast, was completely empty.

Everything Sophia had cleared out earlier was now shoved together in a messy pile.

It felt as though everything in this house had to obey Sophia's wishes—including me.

Soon, the smell of food filled the room. Moments later, Sophia emerged from the kitchen carrying a pot.

"Come sit down, Lily."

She was wearing my apron, and my teddy bear hand towel was tucked in her pocket. If anything, she looked more like the owner of this house than I did.

There was a spread of food on the table, and my favorite, roasted chicken, was among them. She had even set out my plate and utensils for me.

When I reached across the table to help myself to some roasted chicken, Sophia tapped on my fork.

I knew what that meant. I wasn't allowed to have any.

"Try this instead," she said, placing a piece of poached chicken on my plate. "I made it just for you. It's good for you and the baby."

Ivan ladled some soup into a white bowl and set it down next to my hand. "Listen to Sophia. Just bear with this arrangement for a little longer, okay? You'll be able to eat whatever you want after the baby's born."

He was asking me to put up with this for a little longer once again. At this point, I didn't know when I'd ever be considered healthy enough.

I didn't feel like talking. So, I lowered my head and quietly ate my meal.

Ivan reached for a piece of the poached chicken, but Sophia quickly stopped him.

"Seriously? I prepared this for Lily," she said disapprovingly.

Ivan flashed her an awkward smile before helping himself to the roasted chicken instead.

I took a bite of my chicken. It tasted incredibly gamey, and the smell immediately made my stomach turn.

Was this what she had specially prepared for me to improve my health? No wonder she wouldn't let Ivan have any.

"It tastes bad," I declared.

My comment seemed to have caught Sophia by surprise.

She immediately took a bite herself. Laughing, she said, "It tastes fine to me. Maybe your taste buds are off because you're pregnant. Try taking another bite."

Chewing on a mouthful of roasted chicken, Ivan chimed in, "Exactly. Take another bite. Sophia's cooking is really good."

I hummed in response and tried my best to suppress my nausea.

When Sophia stood up to get herself a bowl of soup, I noticed that she was holding my bunny-shaped bowl.

Ivan and I had made that bowl ourselves when we visited a small town years ago. I still had a photo of it pinned at the top of my social media page.

I set down my utensils and stared at Sophia. "The bowl you're holding was a gift to me from Ivan."

Sophia didn't look apologetic at all. Holding the bowl in her hands, she replied, "Oh, I'm sorry, Lily. I didn't know."

There were plenty of bowls in our cabinet. She'd chosen plain-looking bowls for Ivan and me, yet she'd somehow picked this one for herself.

Sophia poured the soup back into the pot and pushed the bunny-shaped bowl toward me. "You can use this one, Lily. I'll get myself another bowl."

Ivan slipped an arm around my shoulders. "It's just a bowl. Don't be so petty. Sophia's not a stranger."

I glanced at the greasy bowl in front of me and the foul-smelling chicken on my plate. My appetite had disappeared completely.

Pushing Ivan's arm away, I declared, "Forget it. I'm not hungry anymore."

A trace of displeasure flickered across Ivan's face.

"Why are you being so difficult?" he whispered. "Sophia spent the entire morning cooking for you. Can't you show her some appreciation?"

Sophia reached over to stop him.

"This is all my fault. You're still pregnant, Lily. You still need to eat something even if your emotions are all over the place."

Ivan's expression darkened. "Sophia has spoiled you. I can't believe you need to be coaxed into eating now."

Sophia had taken over my home, deliberately used my personal bowl, and insisted I eat something that tasted incredibly gamey. Yet somehow, I was the unreasonable one.

The foul smell of the chicken hit me again, and my stomach began to lurch. Unable to hold it in any longer, I dashed to the bathroom and threw up.

My stomach cramped violently as stomach acid and the foul taste of chicken rose into my throat, leaving me choking for breath.

From the bathroom, I could still hear Sophia trying to defend me.

"That's just what pregnancy is like. Lily didn't do it on purpose."

Ivan let out a cold snort. "I think she's throwing a fit on purpose. She's just vying for attention."

I leaned against the toilet. I couldn't explain what I was feeling. If two people were in love, perhaps they wouldn't have to beg for the other person's attention.

Even after a long period of time, Ivan never came in to check on me.

I rested a hand over my stomach and made up my mind. I booked a flight to return to my family home seven days later. I didn't need to stay here and put up with this any longer.