Chapter 1: The House That Wasn’t Theirs
I stood at the bottom of the staircase, listening to the laughter downstairs.
My laughter.
My memories.
My home.
But somehow, I was the only person in the room who no longer seemed to belong.
“She’ll learn to behave once she’s living with us.””
Beatrice’s voice floated through the hallway.
I stopped walking.
For a moment, I wondered if I had misunderstood her.
Living with us?
I slowly turned around and looked down at the crowded living room.
Lucas’s family had filled every corner of my house. Shoes were scattered across the entryway. Someone had moved my decorative pillows. My dining table—the one my father had spent months restoring—was covered with paper plates and half-empty drinks.
They weren’t visiting.
They were settling in.
I walked back downstairs.
The room became quiet when everyone noticed me.
Lucas looked uncomfortable, but not surprised.
That hurt more than anything.
“Who said I was living with anyone?”” I asked.
Beatrice leaned back in my chair.
The chair my mother bought after searching for three months because she knew I loved reading by the window.
“Felicity, don’t be dramatic,” she said.
“We’re family.””
“No,” I replied.
“We’re not.””
A few relatives exchanged looks.
Lucas finally put his phone away.
“Can we not do this right now?””
I stared at him.
“Do what? Ask why strangers are deciding where they sleep in my house?””
His jaw tightened.
“They’re not strangers. They’re my family.””
“And I’m your fiancée.””
The silence after that sentence was heavy.
Because everyone heard what I was really saying.
Your family is here.
But you didn’t choose me.
Beatrice crossed her arms.
“Lucas told us you’d be difficult about this.””
I looked at him.
“You told your mother I’d be difficult?””
Lucas sighed.
“Felicity, you always turn everything into an argument.””
I almost laughed.
Almost.
Because that was the trick, wasn’t it?
Make me defend my feelings until I forgot the original problem.
“You gave my house key to your mother without asking me.””
His expression changed slightly.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
A tiny flash of guilt.
“I gave her a key because she’s family,” he said.
“That key belonged to me.””
“Our future home belongs to both of us.””
“No,” I said quietly.
“This home belongs to me.””
Beatrice stood up.
“You’re making a mistake by talking like this.””
I watched her straighten her blouse and look around my living room.
Like she was the owner.
“You’re marrying my son. That means you become part of our family. In our family, we share everything.””
I nodded slowly.
“Interesting.””
“What?””
“I wonder if your family shares everything, or just things that belong to other people.””
Someone in the corner gasped.
Lucas rubbed his forehead.
“Felicity.””
“No, Lucas. I want an answer.””
I stepped closer.
“When did you tell them this was their home?””
He didn’t respond.
That was my answer.
A memory suddenly came back.
Two weeks earlier.
A quiet Sunday morning.
Lucas had been standing in my kitchen, making coffee.
He wrapped his arms around me from behind and kissed my cheek.
“Give me a spare key, love.””
I had smiled.
“Why?””
“In case you lock yourself out. In case there’s an emergency.””
It sounded reasonable.
Safe.
Loving.
I opened the drawer and handed it to him.
I never imagined he would hand it to someone else.
I never imagined he would hand over a piece of my life.
“Everyone should calm down,” Lucas said now.
“They’re only here because Mom wanted to help prepare for the wedding.””
“Prepare?””
I looked around.
“By assigning bedrooms?””
Nobody spoke.
That silence was louder than any confession.
I walked upstairs.
Behind me, I heard Beatrice say, “Don’t worry. She’ll understand eventually.””
I reached my bedroom door and stopped.
My room.
My private space.
My sanctuary.
Except when I opened it, my stomach dropped.
A suitcase was sitting beside my closet.
Not mine.
A pink suitcase with a luggage tag attached.
I picked it up.
The name written on it made my hands go cold.
“Beatrice Caldwell.””
I walked back downstairs holding the tag.
Everyone looked at me.
“Someone explain this.””
Lucas froze.
Beatrice didn’t.
She simply smiled.
“Oh, that.””
She waved her hand casually.
“I’ll be staying here for a while.””
The room went silent.
I looked at Lucas.
“While?””
He looked away.
And that was when I realized something terrifying.
They hadn’t just entered my house.
They had planned a future inside it.
A future where I was expected to adjust.
Then Beatrice said the words that changed everything.
“Actually, Lucas and I already decided which room will become my office.””
My office.
The room where I worked.
The room where my father’s old desk sat.
I looked at my fiancé.
“Lucas…”
He swallowed.
“Mom needs space.””
I stared at him.
Then I asked the one question I should have asked two weeks earlier.
“Who else has a key?””
May you like
His face went pale.
And he didn’t answer.
