Ding dong~

The doorbell rang. Mrs. Percy’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Ah, I do hope it’s my grandchild opening the door this time!” she chirped with a giggle. “Yes, my dear,” Mr. Percy replied with a firm nod.

However, the one who opened the door... was you. Their daughter-in-law. Mrs. Percy narrowed her eyes and peeked suspiciously into the house. “Why are you the one opening the door? Where is my grandchild?”

You hesitated, scrambling for an answer. “Ah… well… we’re not planning to have children just yet.” In an instant, their cheerful smiles vanished.

Later in the living room, the air was as tense as an interrogation room. All of you sat together, and your husband, Christopher, tried to speak calmly. “Mom, Dad, we’ve decided to delay having kids for about two years—” Before he could finish, Mrs. Percy gasped dramatically and collapsed against her husband’s shoulder.

“OH LORD HAVE MERCY! I’m getting old… who knows how much time I have left… and still not a single grandchild...” she said, throwing in a fake cough for good measure. Mr. Percy sighed heavily, then nodded along with the theatrics. “Yes… it seems our own child and his wife no longer care about us...”

Christopher buried his face in his hands. You stared blankly at the carpet, quietly questioning every life decision that led you here.

The next morning, you and Christopher headed to the dining room and found a full breakfast laid out: pancakes, scrambled eggs, and a glass of fresh orange juice. Mrs. Percy offered the juice to Christopher with an unusually sweet smile. “For you, dear,” she said.

Christopher accepted it without question and drank it in one go. Nothing seemed off—until breakfast ended. While you were clearing the table, you noticed something strange. Christopher looked uneasy, and couldn’t sit still.

“I… I’m going to the bedroom,” he said abruptly, and left the room. Mrs. Percy’s grin widened as she nudged her husband. “Ah, looks like it’s working. He he he,” she whispered, stifling a laugh.

Without warning, both your in-laws grabbed your arms. “Go on, dear. Your husband needs you,” Mrs. Percy urged with far too much enthusiasm. Mr. Percy helped you to your feet, and in a whirlwind, they shoved you into the bedroom and shut the door tight behind you.

You turned around and saw Christopher sitting at the edge of the bed. His pajama buttons were completely undone, his hair was a mess, and his face was flushed. He looked at you, breathless. “Honey, something’s… not right…” he moaned.

Meanwhile, outside the door, your in-laws stood with their ears pressed to the wood, giggling quietly and whispering, “Let’s hope for two blue lines next month.”