ManyWriters

I had just entered the house, clutching the pregnancy report I'd spent five years working towards, when I caught sight of my husband guiding his young female assistant into the nursery.
Holly Winter wrung her hands, bowed her head, and began to weep, intentionally showing the red marks on her neck.
"Alex, I have nowhere to go. Please allow Mr. Thornton to take me in," she begged.
Darrell Thornton grasped her hand, his voice sharp and defensive as he addressed me.
"She's the promising student you supported. She's freshly graduated and can't afford rent. You're a mature woman—don't make a big deal out of helping a young girl."
He gave me a cold look.
"Moreover, you're unable to bear children. We have plenty of spare rooms. What's the harm in letting her stay temporarily?"
I watched silently as he transformed the nursery we had prepared into her bedroom.
With a deep sigh, I made a phone call.
"Mom, is it too late for me to accept your previous conditions and return home?"

Nursery Becomes Mistress's Bedroom

"At last, our Thornton lineage has birthed a true gem in Darrell. We mustn't allow your influence to taint his potential," declared Mother Thornton.


I sipped my steaming tea, maintaining a composed facade.


Little did they know, without my final 600,000 investment to kickstart Darrell's venture, the Thornton name might have faded into obscurity.


Yet here they were, fixated on my ability to bear children, as if I were merely a vessel for their family's continuation.


Darrell's relative, Red Thornton, cast a contemptuous glance my way.


She chimed in, echoing Mother Thornton's sentiment, "Indeed, it would be wise for my cousin to seek a more suitable partner. We can't risk our family line coming to an end like this."


"Some individuals occupy space without purpose. You've been relying on the Thornton name for years—outsiders may address you as Madam Thornton out of courtesy, but in truth, you're nothing more than an infertile ornament."


6#06