The day I went into labor, the doctor asked for a family member's signature to authorize the surgery.

It should have been routine. But my mother-in-law snatched the pen away and refused to let my husband sign.

"The babies have to take the father's surname. Otherwise, we're not signing."

We'd been crystal clear about this when we got married.

No bride price. My family gave him a million-dollar dowry and a Mercedes on top of it. On paper it looked like I'd married out, but in reality, he'd married into my family. The children were supposed to carry my name.

The doctor kept urging them to hurry. I was shaking from the pain, so I forced myself to compromise.

Twins. One could take his name, the other mine.

Amelia Fox threw a screaming fit and refused.

It wasn't until I nearly blacked out from the pain, and the doctor snapped that any further delay would endanger both me and the babies, that my husband finally grabbed the pen and signed.

After the children were born, my parents rushed to the hospital.

They were told the birth certificates had already been filed. Both twins had been registered under my husband's surname.

My father's expression turned to stone.

"We agreed they'd take our name. How could you go back on your word?"

Amelia didn't flinch. "What family lets children take the mother's name? People would laugh at my son and say he's got no backbone."

She stared my parents down and added, "You want the names changed? Fine."

"Transfer the deed of the marital home into my son's name as a surname-change fee. Then maybe we'll consider letting one of the children switch back."

——

My face went white with fury. I turned on my husband and shouted, "Jim Fox! Does your mother even understand? You married into my family!"

"If you want to go back on everything, then let's just end this!"

Three years ago, I'd started going on blind dates. The moment Jim heard, he sent me a confession in the middle of the night.

I was stunned. He'd been my secret crush all through college.

I told him straight: my family required the husband to marry in, and any future children had to carry the Galloway name.

Jim's eyes had lit up. He said he was more than willing.

I pressed him. What about his family? What would they think?

He'd laughed, pulled me into his arms, and explained.

"My dad died when I was young. My mom remarried and left. I've been on my own ever since. Marrying into your family is a good thing for me. I won't be alone anymore."

"And since I'm marrying in, of course the kids will take your name. Don't worry about it."

Who could have predicted that the delivery room would turn into this nightmare?

My father patted my arm to calm me, then dropped the gentle expression. His voice went low and serious.

"Jim, we had a deal. The children take the Galloway name. How could you break your promise? That's not right."

Jim's face was ashen. He looked at his mother, helpless and lost.

"I... Mom..."

Amelia raised a hand, cutting him off. Her tone turned heavy, almost solemn.

"Don't blame him. This was my decision. My son had nothing to do with it."

"You think my son and I are just after your money? That we're making trouble because we're greedy?"

"No. I'm fighting for my son's dignity."

"No self-respecting man would choose to marry into his wife's family. You made my son do it, and he can barely hold his head up in front of his colleagues." She pressed a hand to her chest. "I've been here for the birth these past few days, and I've seen how much he's suffered because of this arrangement. It breaks my heart."

Tears glistened in Amelia's eyes.

"I was never there for my son. Now that I see how hard his life is, wanting to fight for a little compensation on his behalf—is that really so wrong?"

"Either let my son have at least one child carrying his name—Darlene Galloway can have more kids later and give them hers—or give my son a house to make up for it!"

The moment those words left her mouth, Jim's eyes reddened. He gazed at his mother with raw, overwhelming gratitude.

But...

All I felt was a knot of resentment burning in my chest.

These past few years, I had done everything I could to make things up to Jim.

When we got married, my family didn't ask for a single dollar in bride price. On top of that, they gave him a dowry worth a million dollars.

I bought him a Mercedes E-Class so he could keep up appearances.

I even told everyone that I was the one marrying out, terrified he might feel emasculated.

How was that not enough?

When we found out it was twins, I was the one who brought it up first.

"How about one takes your last name and one takes mine?"

And he'd said, "No need. I married into your family. They should both be Galloways."

So why now—just because he'd taken some heat, just because his mother suddenly couldn't stand it—did they get to go back on everything?

And at the most critical moment of my life, while I was on the operating table fighting to survive, he'd let his mother use this to hold me hostage.

To say I wasn't heartbroken would be a lie.

I steadied my breathing and looked at my husband.

"What do you think? You really believe I owe you something?"

"This is our marriage. It has nothing to do with your mother. She doesn't get a say."

He stood there, head bowed.

He fumbled for words for a long time before lifting his damp eyes to mine.

"Just do what my mom says."

"This is the first time she's ever really fought for me."

"I don't want to let her down."

I stared at him, and something inside me went cold, piece by piece.

The truth was, I wasn't afraid of him trying to take my house.

Just two days ago, I'd been discussing with my parents the idea of adding his name to the deed so he'd feel more secure.

But now, he had let me down.

My emotions surged, and a rush of warmth spread between my legs.

I'd barely been out of the operating room. I was bleeding again.

My mother's face drained of color. "Stop talking. Get her to the ER. Now."

By the time they finally stabilized me, my father was pacing back and forth beside my bed.

The doctor spoke gravely. "I don't care what's going on in your family. For the next few days, do not let this woman get upset."

"No anger. No arguments. She needs rest."

My father patted my hand after hearing that.

"Sweetheart, you can't be getting worked up during recovery. This can't go on."

"Jim married into our family. He's one of us now. Giving a little more just means it's shared property between the two of you."

"It's just a house. If he wants it, let him have it. Anything that can be solved with money isn't worth losing sleep over."

My mother chimed in too.

"Money is money. It doesn't matter. What matters right now is your health."

"Besides, you just had babies. You can't possibly get divorced before you're even out of recovery. Those children need their father."

She trailed off, her voice tinged with worry.

"The grandparents are waiting for you two to bring the babies home. Their health is fragile. If this blows up any bigger... I'm afraid..."

I closed my eyes.

My grandparents had just had heart surgery not long ago. They couldn't handle any kind of shock.

Right now, the only thing those two old people were living for was to see me and my husband bring the Galloway babies home.

Just minutes ago, they'd texted me asking when I'd be discharged.

If things really escalated to divorce, word would reach them. There was no way it wouldn't.

My mother, always the sentimental one, pressed further.

"Jim has been so good to you. Can you really bring yourself to leave him?"

I thought about the porridge he'd make for me late at night. The breakfasts he'd prepare with little heart-shaped garnishes every morning.

Then the pregnancy—how he never missed a single checkup, how he'd stay up through the night sitting by my bed, massaging my swollen feet.

My heart couldn't harden all the way.

But that house—I couldn't give it up.

It wasn't just a house.

It was where my parents got married.

It was where I grew up. It was twenty-some years of roots for our entire family.

I wasn't handing it over to anyone.

My parents had already thought of that.

"We can give you a property, but not this one."

"This apartment means the world to our family. We can transfer the suburban villa to Jim instead."

"The location is great, and it's much bigger! It's worth even more than this place."

But my mother-in-law's expression darkened. "No. It has to be this apartment."

"A suburb is a suburb. It'll never compare to this place. This is a premium home in a top school district. Who knows how much it'll appreciate in the future."

"It has to be this one."

My father frowned, his displeasure barely contained.

"We understand you want to look out for your son and secure something for Jim. But there's no need to make this difficult for us. I've already told you this apartment is off the table."

He waved his hand and spoke bluntly. "The suburban house, plus eight hundred and eighty thousand dollars on top. That should be more than enough. Even with appreciation, this place would never be worth that much more."

My mother-in-law shook her head. "No. I want this one. You say the school district won't lose value, but who's to say the suburban house won't tank?"

"All I know is this apartment is in a top school district. It'll always be worth something."

My mother sighed. "If you're worried about depreciation, let Jim sell the suburban house and buy a new place in the school district. Why does it have to be this apartment?"

Listening to all of this, the anger inside me surged again.

Jim noticed the look on my face and leaned close to my ear, pleading.

"Babe, you can't get worked up right now. Please, just stay calm."

"Just play along for my sake. Agree to it for now. The second my mom leaves, I'll give it right back."

"I'll even sign an IOU if that's what it takes."

My parents overheard him. They exchanged a weary glance.

"Fine," my father said. "We'll agree to your terms. Now can we change the names back?"

The notary was called in. The documents were spread across the table.

Once the signatures were down, the transfer agreement took effect.

My mother-in-law finally cracked a smile.

"Alright. Go ahead and change the names."

Relief washed through me. I signaled for my parents to handle the paperwork.

Watching my son's and daughter's names revert to the ones my parents had painstakingly chosen, names brimming with love and good wishes, the anger that had filled my chest gave way to something warm.

My mother-in-law seemed pleased too. She pulled out her phone and started a voice call with someone, bragging about how her son now owned a sprawling apartment in the heart of downtown.

I didn't know what the person on the other end said, but her expression shifted in an instant. She set the phone down and rushed over.

She slammed her hand down on Jim's, stopping him mid-signature, and looked up at me.

"I changed my mind. One apartment isn't enough."

The color drained from all three of our faces at once.

My father held his temper, his voice low with warning. "We respected your concern for your son. We agreed to your terms."

"If you keep pushing, you're going to burn through every last shred of goodwill between these two."

My mother's expression turned cold. "If you have more demands, you'd better lay them all out right now."

"Going back on your word like this? You're just toying with us."

My mother-in-law straightened in her seat.

"Fine. I won't beat around the bush."

"You need to pay my son a marriage settlement. Ten million dollars."

The air in the room turned to ice. My parents and I froze at the same time.

"How much?" My mother's voice cracked.

My father was already shaking with fury. His palm cracked against the table. "You've lost your mind! Do you have any idea how much ten million dollars is? You're out of your goddamn mind!"

"Oh, I know exactly how much it is." My mother-in-law didn't flinch. "I just asked around. These days, the going rate for a live-in husband starts in the tens of millions."