Mrs. Miller pointed at my nose and said that I was trash, and her son was the only one who didn’t mind. Mr. Miller made it clear: if I was pregnant with a boy, they’d be willing to take me in. But if it was a girl, there was no way they’d let me marry into the family. I laughed. “Didn’t you want a grandson? Go look for one underground.” John and I had been dating for three years. We were introduced through our families. The person who introduced us said that John was honest, decent-looking, and his character was outstanding. I met him, and sure enough, he spoke well and wasn’t unattractive. After spending some time together, I found he was quite considerate, so I agreed to start dating him. For the past three years, John treated me well. He had plenty of flaws, but none that I couldn’t tolerate. What I couldn’t stand was how much he listened to his mom. If she told him what time to get up, he wouldn’t sleep a minute longer. But he promised me that he’d work on breaking that habit. After three years, both of our families arranged to meet and discuss marriage. I thought about it and agreed—it was time to settle down. But just a month after we got engaged, I found out I was pregnant. I stared at the two lines on the pregnancy test, lost in thought. We’d been careful all these years, never had any accidents. I told John about it, and he was thrilled. But his excitement didn’t seem like the joy of someone about to become a father. “I’ve got to call my parents right away,” he said. I nodded, not thinking much of it. It made sense to tell his parents, so I picked up my phone, unsure how to break the news to mine. Even though we were already engaged, we hadn’t officially gotten married yet, and none of the wedding details had been finalized. Meanwhile, John had already called his parents. The first thing he said was, “Mom, Olivia is pregnant. We’re expecting.” His mother immediately responded with a sigh of relief, “Finally, it happened.”
What did she mean by “finally”? I stared at John, confused. He looked flustered and quickly said into the phone, “Mom, Olivia is right here.” He was video chatting with his parents, so I didn’t say anything. When he hung up, I asked, “What did your mom mean by ‘finally’?” John wrapped his arm around my waist with a laugh. “What do you think she meant? She’s just happy. She’s been waiting for a grandkid, that’s all.” His words stung a little. I pushed his arm away. “It’s not necessarily a boy. What if it’s a girl? Is that a problem?” John realized his mistake and quickly tried to comfort me. “Of course not! Boys, girls—they’re all the same. Honestly, it’d be perfect if we had one of each.” Something about the situation didn’t sit right with me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Later, when John went to make dinner, I called my parents to tell them the news. They were a little surprised, but after thinking it over, they didn’t scold me. After all, we were already engaged, and the wedding was just a matter of time. They only told us to come home and finalize the wedding details quickly. “You don’t want to be walking down the aisle with a big belly,” my mom said. I understood what they meant. It wouldn’t look good in front of all the relatives. When I talked it over with John, he was hesitant. He made excuses about not being able to take time off and how he was busy with a work project. John was just a regular employee—nothing so urgent that he couldn’t leave for a few days. Besides, what company doesn’t allow time off for a wedding? John kept delaying, and by the time we finally went home, three months had passed. By then, I was already four months pregnant. But because I was skinny and it was winter, no one could really tell. That night, my mom sat next to me, looking concerned. “John didn’t want to come back earlier—do you think they might be planning to reduce the dowry?” I was confused. “What do you mean?” She glanced at my belly. “You’re pregnant now. Do you think they’re trying to use that as an excuse to offer less?” I thought about it. An $8,800 dowry didn’t seem unreasonable, and John’s family wasn’t exactly poor. Besides, I was bringing a dowry of my own into the marriage. “Don’t worry, John isn’t like that.” My mom nodded, but the worry didn’t leave her eyes. That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about how John had delayed our trip home for so long. Now that I was four months along and could no longer get an abortion, he was suddenly in a rush to return. Why? Could my mom be right? Were they trying to avoid paying the dowry? The next morning, John and his parents came over to discuss the wedding. They walked in with an air of superiority, and I frowned slightly. Mrs. Miller nodded at me, her eyes filled with a mix of arrogance and satisfaction. “How’s the baby, Olivia?” “I’m fine,” I replied, sitting next to my parents and saying nothing more. Mr. Miller cleared his throat and started talking. “We all know Olivia is pregnant. Now, we’re a well-educated family, and frankly, we don’t approve of girls who get pregnant before marriage.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. His father actually said that. My dad, who had always been protective of me, couldn’t stay quiet. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” Mr. Miller gave a cold laugh. “It may be harsh, but it’s the truth.” I looked at John. He was sitting next to his mother, head down, avoiding my gaze. “Let’s cut to the chase,” I said. “What are you really trying to say?” Mr. Miller glared at me. “The $8,800 dowry we talked about? We’re not paying it. But we expect you to provide the wedding gifts.” He glanced at my belly. “After all, we’re taking a risk here. We don’t even know if that baby is truly a Miller.” His words made my blood boil. My parents were furious as well, barely able to contain their anger. “John,” I said, turning to him, “is this how you feel too?” He finally lifted his head and met my eyes, speaking softly, “I listen to my parents.” I laughed bitterly. “Great. Just great.” My mom grabbed my arm, trying to calm me down. “How could you say something so disgusting?” she snapped at them. “If you’re so short on money, just say so. You don’t have to insult my daughter like this.” My dad was gripping the table in anger. Mrs. Miller wasn’t backing down. “It’s not an insult. Your daughter did this, so it’s only natural for people to talk.” I shot up from my chair. “I didn’t do this alone! Your son is involved, and you don’t seem to be blaming him for anything!” “John!” I shouted, glaring at the man sitting in the corner. “Say something right now, in front of both our families. Was I the one who forced you to get me pregnant? If that’s what you think, I’ll turn myself in right now.” John stood up shakily, looking between me and his parents. “No, no, of course not. You know that’s not true.” I turned to Mrs. Miller. “Did you hear that?” She didn’t seem fazed. “Well, John is a boy. It’s different for him.” “How is it different? He’s not a human being like I am?” Mrs. Miller stood up, pointing her finger at me, ready to yell, but my dad stepped in between us. “This is my house,” he said firmly. “If you don’t intend to marry Olivia, then leave.” Mr. and Mrs. Miller sneered and laughed. “Fine, we’ll go. But don’t come crawling to us later.” “Hmph.” John hesitated at the door, glancing back at me nervously, but I shot him a look that made him lower his head and leave. As soon as they were gone, my mom started crying. “What are we going to do now?” I looked at my parents, who were being dragged into this mess because of me, and my heart ached. But I held back my tears. Now was not the time to cry. If I broke down, my parents would only worry more. “Don’t worry, Mom and Dad. I’ll go get an abortion tomorrow.”
My mom immediately protested. “No, you can’t! I’ve heard that getting an abortion this far along can harm your body. You might not be able to have kids again.” I sat down, trying to stay calm. “I’ll go to the hospital and talk to the doctor. If I can’t get an abortion, I’ll have the baby and raise it myself.” My dad sighed. “We can talk to the Millers again tomorrow. If they don’t want to pay the dowry, that’s fine. We don’t need their money.” With that, he went back into the house. My mom held my hand tightly. “Your father has always been a proud man. He’s just upset. Once he calms down, we’ll talk to the Millers again.” That night, no matter how many messages John sent me, I didn’t reply. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep until dawn. When I finally woke up, my mom was the only one in the kitchen, making breakfast. Then I remembered—my dad had said he’d go to the Millers’ house last night. It was already noon, and he still wasn’t back. “Don’t worry,” my mom said, trying to reassure me. “If things didn’t go well, he would’ve come home by now.” But I couldn’t shake the anxiety. What if they were giving my dad a hard time? “I’m going to find him,” I said, grabbing my coat. Just as I opened the door, I saw my dad standing there. His face was full of worry, but when he saw me, he forced a smile. “Where are you off to?” “Dad, why were you gone so long? Did they give you trouble?” He hesitated before answering, “No, no trouble. Just talking about the wedding.” My mom hurried over. “So? What did they say?” My dad closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “They said we have to wait until Olivia gives birth. If it’s a boy, then they’ll agree to the marriage.” “What?” My mom and I both shouted in unison. “This is outrageous,” my mom fumed, throwing her dish towel on the floor. “Do they think their son is a god or something?” I felt dizzy, my vision going black for a moment. How could everything I’d dreamed of—the wedding, the marriage—turn into this nightmare? I wobbled on my feet, and my mom rushed over to steady me. “Olivia, should we go to the hospital?” I suddenly remembered what John and his mother had said that day—finally pregnant. So this had all been part of their plan from the start.
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