Chapter 3

In the background, I could faintly hear fireworks exploding.

"It might end late, so I'll just stay at a hotel near the office. I have an early meeting tomorrow."

I gripped my phone, my fingers tightening. "The company is so heartless, making you work overtime on New Year's Eve. Which hotel are you at? Maybe I can bring you some late-night snacks."

Kevin's panic was palpable. "No!"

Realizing he sounded too harsh, his tone instantly softened. "No need, it's too cold out. I couldn't bear to let you go out in the cold."

"Alright then. Don't drink too much."

The moment he hung up, my heart completely froze over.

Outside, scattered fireworks burst, and the elaborate dinner on the table had grown cold.

I scrolled aimlessly through Ins.

Kevin's mother, Martha, had posted a photo: a huge, delicious spread, all my favorite dishes.

The caption read: "Dinner for my daughter-in-law."

Someone commented in the comments section.

My heart warmed. No matter what Kevin was doing, Martha was always on my side.

I remembered when Kevin and I first got married, Martha held my hand, her eyes red, saying:

"Suzanne, Kevin was a sickly child growing up, and I spoiled him, making him stubborn and difficult. If he does anything wrong, you tell me, and I'll scold him."

The next morning, I drove to Kevin's parents' house.

My in-laws lived in an older suburban neighborhood.

Kevin had bought the house two years ago, putting it in his parents' names.

He said it was for his mother's retirement, and I even split half the down payment with him.

Before leaving, I took out my treasured health supplements and bought my father-in-law, David, his favorite whiskey.

For the past five years, my in-laws had treated me better than their own son.

The first New Year after we got married, Martha secretly slipped me an envelope with cash:

"Kevin, that boy, is so hung up on appearances, insisting on splitting everything. Don't mind him. In life, you can't always just talk about fairness."

One time Kevin and I argued, and in a fit of pique, I didn't go to his parents' place for the holidays.

David called, not asking for the reason, just saying: "Suzanne, I sent you some dessert, from that shop you love."

I cried when I received the package that day.

I carried the gifts upstairs, about to knock on the door.

From inside, I heard a familiar voice, "Mom, don't fuss so much. She's not picky."

My hand, holding the gifts, paused.

Didn't he say he was working overtime yesterday?

But I still smiled faintly, a little relieved, thinking, *As long as he's not with Vivian, it's fine.*

Just as I was about to push the door open, the next sentence froze me to the spot.

"These cherries are so sweet," Vivian's voice was cloyingly sweet.

"Eat more if they're sweet. You're pregnant, you need to nourish yourself properly."

Martha's face was full of loving kindness.

I peered through the crack in the door.

Vivian was sprawled on the couch, legs crossed.

Martha sat beside her, gently feeding her cherries with a toothpick.

David was kneeling by the coffee table, tidying up baby clothes scattered everywhere, grinning from ear to ear.

My stomach lurched.

The gifts in my hand clattered to the floor, and everyone in the living room turned at once.

Vivian saw me, immediately stood up, then cried out in pain, clutching her stomach and sitting back down.

Kevin smoothly put down his teacup and went to steady her.

Vivian wrapped her arms around me, feigning intimacy:

"Suzanne, I fell on the way here today. Kevin just happened to be passing by and gave me a ride. Otherwise, I don't know what I would have done."

I pulled away from Vivian, my eyes fixed on Kevin:

"Kevin, weren't you supposed to be working overtime? How did you end up visiting your parents?"

He paused, then looked away. "It was canceled at the last minute."

Martha quickly jumped in to smooth things over: "Yes, Kevin just arrived too. Vivian just had a little fall on the road, and Kevin happened to see her, so he brought her here to rest..."