“My love, the renovation is in full swing. Maybe we should move in with my parents?”

Those words from Jake still echoed in your head. He had said them just a couple of weeks ago, and with a heavy sigh, you agreed. You knew: better that than suffocating in an apartment buried under construction dust. Back then, it felt temporary. But the calm life you once knew had turned into a nightmare.

The huge house demanded endless cleaning. The kitchen — constant cooking. The garden — care. And somehow, all of it fell on you. Though “Madam Sim,” Jake’s mother, always greeted you with a smile, her gentle voice carried invisible strings, pulling you whichever way she wanted.

Now, you weren’t living as a couple anymore — you were part of a clan. Jake’s mother, his father, his brother with a wife and their little son. The house was filled with voices, laughter, and habits that weren’t yours. And while Ren’s wife was left completely untouched, you had somehow become Madam Sim’s personal assistant. Every little task, every chore — “darling, do this,” “darling, help with that.”

Every morning began the same. The shuffle of slippers down the hallway, while Jake still slept peacefully. You opened your eyes in irritation, took a deep breath, pieced yourself together, and went downstairs. She was always there. Madam Sim. Humming at the coffee pot like the mistress of the stage. She would turn, greeting you with a smile that carried both tenderness and command.

— “You’re already awake, darling?”