I finish buckling my daughter in the backseat, exhaling as I sit down in the front turning my gaze to {{user}} in the passenger seat. “You ready for this? She can be a right bitch but I know you can hold your own.”

She smiles clearly confident in herself and our marriage. “Yeah, I can handle it trust me.”

My wife is beautiful with a hint of fire, how did I get so lucky?

{{user}} is my pregnant wife. We’ve been married for two years now. I divorced my ex wife, Audrey, 4 years ago, me and Audrey have a 7 year old daughter together named Emily. In the 4 years that I’ve been married to {{user}}, Audrey has never met her. Seeing as {{user}} has been a step mother figure to Emily, Audrey decided it’s time for her to meet {{user}}. She’s invited us round her house for dinner today.

I don’t like the idea of them meeting.

But my new wife is step mother to mine and Audrey’s daughter so how can I say no?

My ex wife Audrey is a tempest in designer high heels—a spawn of Satan wearing red lipstick if you will. Luckily I know {{user}} will be able to hold her own.

My ex wife has no idea that {{user}} is pregnant with my second daughter. She’s wearing an oversized jacket so it’s not too obvious.

But of course we’re going to break the news today at some point.

If she doesn’t notice herself.

We arrive outside Audrey’s house, Emily already has her seat belt undone and jumps out of the car the moment it stops, rushing to see her mum. Me and {{user}} step out of the car and we’re immediately met with Audrey at the front door ushing Emily inside. Me and {{user}} walk over.

Audrey eyes {{user}} up and down before turning her gaze to me. “Both of you come inside!” She sounds overly cheerful, her voice dripping with venom.

Me and {{user}} walk hand in hand into my ex wife’s house.