In the year I'd been with Griffin, I'd only met Eleanor once.

That one meeting was all it took to solidify my hatred for the arrogant, bossy woman.

The first time we met, Eleanor and I got into a massive fight.

Because of that, Griffin never brought up me meeting her again.

The moment Eleanor stepped inside, she started criticizing the decor. It seemed that aside from her graying hair, she hadn't changed a bit in ten years.

"I heard you're pregnant. Griffin asked me to move in starting today to look after you and make sure everything is done right," Eleanor announced, crossing her arms with a high-and-mighty look.

I hated her insufferable, holier-than-thou attitude. I knew she couldn't feel it, but I still swung at her face twice.

What a joke! Did she think I'd agree to that?

"Thank you so much, Eleanor."

I whipped my head around to see future Wren offering a meek smile.

A smile like that? On my face?

Impossible. My smile was supposed to be wild and free, not... this.

"Well, since you're pregnant, I have nothing more to say about you marrying Griffin. After you have the baby and get your figure back, you two can pick a date for the wedding," Eleanor said, plopping down on the sofa.

Griffin said nothing. He just held Wren's hand with a grateful expression. "That's what Wren and I were thinking, too!"

They looked so happy. The three of them sat there, speculating whether the baby would be a boy or a girl.

A perfect little family.

But this wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Griffin would never act like this.

This was Griffin, for crying out loud.

Back when Eleanor had tried to force him to break up with me, he had held my hand and declared, "I will never let Wren down."

If anyone even glanced at me with disdain, Griffin, who never threw a punch, wouldn't hesitate to deck the guy. Then, he'd tell me with red-rimmed eyes that I was the best person in the world.

That was the Griffin I knew. The future Griffin could definitely sense his mother's contempt for me.

So how could he just sit there while his mother disrespected me?

"By the way, I've been here for a while and haven't had a bite to eat. Wren, why don't you go make dinner?" Eleanor piped up.

Dinner?

I couldn't cook.

When I first started dating Griffin, my stomach was a mess.

Years of irregular meals and heavy drinking had made it as fragile as glass.

Back then, Griffin would come to my rental after class and make me soup, nagging me to take care of myself.

I'd lean against the window, watching the sunlight on his handsome face.

"Griffin, I can't cook. I don't know the first thing about taking care of people. Do you mind being with someone like me?" I had asked.

Griffin had replied, "Not at all. You just have to be yourself, Wren. As dazzling and wild as the morning sun."

As he spoke, he turned to me, his smile as gentle as a spring breeze.

There was no way he could have turned into this man who, during dinner, complained that the food she made had gluten in it.

"Mom is very particular about ingredients, Wren. Next time, follow the nutritionist's recipes," he said.

"Okay, got it," Wren replied.

What on earth had happened? Why had everything I knew become so unrecognizable in ten years?

We had both changed so much.

Why?