Chapter 3

Vivian’s brow furrowed slightly, clearly surprised that I gave up so easily.

Knowing how I usually was, she probably expected a massive meltdown. She expected me to smash things, scream, and throw her out.

That was how our fights had gone over the past five years. My emotions would flare hot and fast, only to break apart against the wall of her cold silence.

But this time was different.

Vivian just didn't know the truth.

Julian was damaged goods.

He was completely sterile.

We found out when he was eighteen. My mom had dragged him to every specialist in the state, and every single lab result came back identical.

In this lifetime, it was medically impossible for him to get any woman pregnant.

My mom kept that secret locked away in a vault. Julian knew, I knew, and nobody else was ever supposed to find out.

Vivian’s mother only had one child—Vivian. Every Thanksgiving and Christmas, she would drill into my head that we needed to have kids early while we were still young, promising she’d help raise them. The older woman was deeply traditional; in her mind, a home without grandchildren meant the family line went extinct.

I had originally planned to gently work on her mother after we tied the knot, maybe even go child-free, since Vivian used to say she wasn't obsessed with having babies anyway.

Well, now I didn't need to do any convincing.

Let Julian try to give her a child.

Let her overbearing mother breathe down Julian's neck for a grandchild.

Let her nag him for eight or ten years until their lives turned into a living hell. What did that have to do with me?

And another thing Vivian didn't know: Julian couldn't do a single chore to save his life.

Growing up, my mom babied him like porcelain. He was never allowed to wash a single plate or pick up a broom.

She wanted someone 'stable and built for domestic life'?

She was about to find out just how 'domestic' her sweet, innocent Julian really was.

As for me? The past five years of catering to Vivian like a live-in maid were basically wasted.

How did she think our life ran so smoothly all these years?

Who did she think kept that apartment spotless?

When her mother was hospitalized last year, I was the one who took two weeks off work to take care of her at the bedside.

Meanwhile, Vivian washed her hands clean of the whole thing with a casual, "Sorry, this work project is too crazy right now."

"Now that's more like it!" The smile returned to my mom’s face. She picked up the wine bottle and poured another glass for Vivian. "We're all family here. It's good that everything's out in the open. Vivian, sweetheart, don't feel guilty. Julian has been an angel since he was little. He'll be far less of a headache than some people."

I didn't say a word.

I just stood by the front hallway entrance, watching the farce unfold in the living room.

My mom was beaming as she served Vivian wine; Julian sat there blushing with his head down; and Vivian kept that same emotionless, detached look on her face.

"Now that this is settled, let's get the ball rolling quickly," my mom declared, puffing out her chest like the head of the household. "Tomorrow looks like a great day. We'll throw the engagement party first."

"And next week, we can set up the wedding!"

"Mom..." Julian whined softly, blushing even harder.

"What's there to be shy about? Strike while the iron is hot!" My mom rolled her eyes playfully at Julian, then turned to Vivian. "Vivian, what do you think?"

Vivian nodded. "Whatever you think is best, Mrs. Hall."

"Still calling me Mrs. Hall?" My mom laughed with delight. "Time to change that title!"

"Mom."