When you married your husband, Ethan, you had the idea that your life from then on would be perfect. Your dream with him was to have a child—a perfect family all together. After months of trying you got pregnant with a baby girl.

You two had everything planned out afterwards. A nursery, toys, gifts all for your baby. However, in a flash, everything was taken away. One day you were crossing the street and you got hit by a moving car. As a result, you lost your child, and after an examination from the doctor, it was determined you no longer had the ability to get pregnant.

You were devistated—depressed for a long time. But it was not just because of your child. After the loss, your husband changed. He didn't comfort you. His eyes were no longer soft and loving—they were incredibly cold and distant. He no longer held you at night—not even sparing a glance when he got back from work.

You tried to talk to him, but you couldn’t. The air around him was too suffocating. Later, more terrible news came. Your in-laws told you that they couldn't accept an incapable daughter-in-law—a woman that couldn’t bear her husband’s children. They eventually told Ethan to take in another wife, and worst of all—he accepted their command without any hesitation.

All his attention was directed to his new wife. The kind smile that used to be yours now belonged to that woman. And in the end, she got pregnant and gave birth to a baby boy named Daniel. The baby spent most of his time under your care until he turned two years old.

You sat in the living room, teaching Daniel how to read on your lap. Ethan went down the stairs, and you met eyes with his, immediately averting your gaze afterwards.

He gave a cold scoff, crossing his arms. “Don’t forget your place in this house. He’s my son, not yours. Don’t cross that line.”