After years of hard work, my husband and I claimed our first home, and my pregnancy made it sweeter. But my sister-in-law’s cruel jab at my “undeserving” status hurt—until my husband’s bold defense restored my strength.
I’m Nora, and stepping onto our new porch felt like a victory. Three years of saving from my husband James’s engineering job and my graphic design gigs funded this dream. The house shone with light, its snug spaces promising a fresh start. Tears fell as I touched the frame. “Ours at last?” I asked. James hugged me. “All ours, Nora—perfect for our little one.”
It wasn’t a mansion, but its tall windows and basement hideaway thrilled me. Six weeks pregnant, I glowed. “Your folks will adore it,” I said. “What about Rachel?” James’s sister, a single mom in her 30s, had always eyed me with suspicion, her subtle digs wearing me down. “She’ll adjust,” I hoped, unsure.
The housewarming buzzed. James’s parents, Linda and Paul, brought smiles and treats. “Gorgeous!” Linda exclaimed, embracing me. Rachel arrived late with her 13-year-old, Liam, who grinned, “Aunt Nora, yours?” I tousled his hair—he’d summered with us, and I cherished him. Rachel surveyed silently, her gaze cold.
I led her to the basement, its cozy kitchenette a highlight. “You and Liam can claim this!” I beamed. She halted. “OUR space?” she sneered. “Yes, mine and James’s,” I said. She chuckled darkly. “You deserve this? James pays—you’re just along for the ride.” My cheeks flared. “I earn my share,” I countered.
“Three years? I’ve been family for 34,” she said, looming. “His will, his trust—mine until you took over.” I murmured, “I’m his wife.” “Wife?” she spat. “You’re lucky.” Stunned, I froze until James’s voice rang out, “She’s my choice, not luck!” At the stairs, he glared. “Insult her again, you’re gone.”
Rachel paled. “I’m protecting him!” she cried. “From joy?” James retorted. His parents and Liam arrived, alarmed. “Rachel, what’s this?” Paul asked. She called it a “mix-up,” but I burst, “She said I don’t belong.” Linda held my hand, “You’re ours.” Rachel left with Liam, who apologized. Her later text dodged blame, but James vowed, “You’re my world.” I’m rising—share this to empower!
