That evening, I told Darren. “You’re going to be a dad.” His face broke into the biggest smile I’d ever seen. He lifted me, spinning me gently. “Are you serious?” he kept repeating. For a few days, the house felt alive again.

But when his mother, Norma, and sister, Renee, heard the news, their reactions were cold. Norma frowned. “You two barely have enough saved. Why rush into this?” Renee smirked. “Guess we’ll be paying for diapers now.” Their words stung, but I tried to ignore them. Darren defended us, but I saw how easily their negativity chipped away at his confidence. Still, I whispered to the tiny life inside me, “You are my hope.”

As the weeks passed, my body changed. So did the mood in the house. Norma started visiting unannounced, inspecting, criticizing. “You should save more.” “Darren can’t afford hospital bills on his salary.” Her tone wasn’t concern; it was control.