In the hotel restroom, I was cleaning my blouse soaked with milk stains when a pair of hands caressed my softness from behind. I grabbed that groping hand and threw him over my shoulder. My mother-in-law rushed up and slapped me across the face. Because I had fractured her precious son’s tailbone… Today was the baby’s one-month celebration party at a fancy downtown hotel in Chicago. I’d been bustling around since early morning. Even with the air-conditioner cranked up full blast, I was still sweating buckets. My husband pulled me aside and pointed at my chest. Seeing the hunger in his eyes, I smacked the back of his head. “Pervert, we’re surrounded by people!” But before I knew it, he dragged me into an empty corner, pulled up my blouse, and exposed the pair of full, white, round breasts underneath. They were already glistening with milk. “Honey, how did they get even bigger? I literally nursed from them this morning.” He looked all pitiful, but the desire in his eyes was impossible to hide. “Stop it, guests are arriving soon.” “Just one quick sip, babe.” “No… ah!” The heavy weight on my chest suddenly felt light the moment his mouth covered it, like a huge burden had been lifted. Guests, banquet—none of it mattered in that moment. “Hello?!Someone here?” The sudden shout snapped me back to reality. I quickly pushed my husband off, pulled my blouse down to my neck, and shot the man in front of me a warning glare before letting it go. The one who called out was my husband’s younger brother, Derek Winter. His gaze swept over us, lingered on my husband’s mouth for a second, and he flashed a knowing grin. Guess the kitten didn’t wipe the milk off his face properly. I pinched the soft flesh on my husband’s waist hard where Derek couldn’t see. Only then did he casually wipe the leftover milk from his lips, laugh it off, and say, “The coconut water at the banquet is really good—kids love it.” Then he hurriedly dragged Derek away, leaving me alone in peace. I let out a huge sigh of relief, double-checked that everything looked fine, and went out to greet the guests. My mother-in-law handed our daughter over to me. That’s when I noticed a small silver bracelet on the baby’s wrist. “Thanks, Mom. Sweetie~ isn’t Grandma so good to you?” She also gave the baby a thick red envelope—probably a few thousand dollars. Everyone around said I had a great mother-in-law and Emily had a wonderful grandma. But her next words silenced the entire room. She pulled out two heavy gold bracelets and a $10,000 red envelope, dangled them in front of baby Emily, then put them away. Confused, I watched as she said to my daughter, “Emily, hurry up and give Grandma a little brother. Once he’s born, Grandma will buy you a silver necklace.” “Mom, Emily’s only one month old and you’re already pushing me to have another? And why does a boy get gold bracelets while Emily gets silver? That’s blatant favoritism! How will Emily feel when she grows up—that Grandma doesn’t like her but loves her brother?” The moment the words left my mouth, she slapped me hard. “How dare you stir trouble? You give birth to a girl and suddenly think you’re above everyone? I love grandsons and granddaughters equally—it’s just that girls can’t handle heavy gold.” I held my stinging cheek, wanting to argue, when my husband suddenly stepped in, stuffed a red envelope into my hand, and pulled us apart. “Mom, how could you be so forgetful? You even misplaced the money.” He claimed his mom had cashed out the gold bracelet money into two red envelopes and simply forgot one. I didn’t believe a word of that nonsense. She’s from a small rural town in the Midwest and has always looked down on me for being a city girl from Chicago. My husband and I met in college, dated for seven years before marrying. He loves me—I know that—but he can’t stand up to his mom. He says she raised him and his brother alone, scraping by and even selling family belongings to put him through college. Before marriage, I admired his filial piety. After marriage, even though she constantly made things difficult for me, I didn’t want to put him in a tough spot, so I endured it again and again. I didn’t want to cause a scene on such a happy day, so I excused myself to the restroom to compose myself. I splashed water on my face. Looking up at my slightly red eyes in the mirror, I felt a wave of grievance. Water splashed onto my chest, mixing with milk and soaking a large patch. I’d deliberately worn a white button-down blouse today—the wet spots made the pale mounds faintly visible… Since it was the women’s restroom, I felt safe enough to take off the blouse, leaving just a black lace nursing bra. The blouse would take a while under the hand dryer. I turned my back to the door and started scrolling short videos, completely unaware of footsteps behind me.
I was giggling at a funny video when strong arms suddenly wrapped around me from behind. Thinking it was my husband, I didn’t react much and kept scrolling. Those hands eagerly pushed aside the nursing bra and cupped the peaks, letting out a satisfied sigh—“Oh!” The touch started gentle but quickly turned rough. Ever since giving birth, the milk never stopped. My heavy breasts hung full, and the sensitive nipples leaked at the slightest touch. “Jack, stop messing around—someone might come in! Didn’t you just nurse earlier? And after your attitude today, I’m not letting you drink my milk anymore. I’m really hurt.” Annoyed, I swatted the roaming hands away, intending to turn and rinse the mess on my chest. But he spun me 180 degrees to face him. He lowered his head and latched onto one side. I immediately shoved him off. Because the man in front of me wasn’t my husband—it was his younger brother, Derek Winter! “Sis-in-law, I’m thirsty. I want a drink.” Derek grinned mischievously, pointing at my exposed chest. “Derek! I’m your sister-in-law! How could you…” I stared in disbelief at this twenty-something guy. In my eyes, he was still just a kid. He showed no shame, continuing to stare brazenly at my chest. Furious, I slapped him, then quickly dressed and threw him over my shoulder. With a howl of pain, his tailbone fractured! My mother-in-law watched her son being carried out on a stretcher, collapsed to the floor, and wailed dramatically. “Oh Lord, what sin have I committed? A daughter-in-law who acts like a demon!” She turned to my husband, hitting and pinching him. “This is the trash you married! Look what she did to your brother!” My husband shot back, “Mom, Derek brought this on himself! My wife was minding her business in the women’s restroom—why was Derek even in there? Planning to transition?” That set her off. She slapped my husband hard across the face and cursed him as an “unfilial son” and “white-eyed wolf.” The room was full of friends and family we’d invited. At this point, the celebration was effectively over. I apologized to everyone one by one and tried to see them out, but my mother-in-law blocked the hotel entrance, lying on the ground refusing to let anyone leave, demanding “justice.” “So what if he drank your milk? You think you’re still some pure virgin? A little milk and you try to kill him?” She rolled her eyes so hard they nearly disappeared. “Mothers aren’t women? We don’t deserve privacy?” I laughed coldly. “You’re a mother now—what privacy do you need? Carrying a baby really made you think you’re somebody. We feed and house you, I gave your daughter a red envelope and bracelet—Derek takes one sip and you act like we owe you? Don’t be so greedy!” “Can you stop downplaying this? Derek’s actions constitute sexual assault. I can sue him.” I pulled out my phone to call the police, but the old lady snatched it and smashed it on the ground. I stayed calm. “You seem to forget—this house we live in, half the down payment was mine. Everything I eat and wear now doesn’t cost your family a dime.” I tossed the silver bracelet from Emily’s wrist onto the ground in front of her. “Too expensive—my Emily can’t accept such generosity.” The clank as it hit the floor caught my attention. That sound… this bracelet might be fake? I bent to pick it up, but she snatched it faster and stuffed it away. “I’m old and weak—I can’t win against a city princess like you. You don’t even want the gift I gave my granddaughter.” She hurried out, looking almost guilty. The drama finally ended, but my husband and I were completely done with Derek. My husband, still furious, went to the hospital and beat Derek badly. Only when his mom cried and begged did he stop short of killing him. “Bro, I was wrong. I drank too much and messed up.” His attitude seemed more sincere now. He even brought a first-birthday gift for Emily: matching gold necklaces, one for me and one for her. They’re brothers after all—beating and scolding done, his mom suffered too. I didn’t want to drag it out. Through all this, I realized I loved my husband even more. When it mattered, he stood up first and confronted his mom for me. “Babe, you really love me so much.” Lying in Jack’s arms, stroking the stubble on his chin, I felt indescribably sweet. People online say no matter how loving a couple is, passion fades after a baby. Looks like the internet isn’t always right.
A month passed since Emily’s first birthday party was supposed to happen. Derek was out of the hospital. We live in a big three-story duplex in the Chicago suburbs. Mother-in-law on the first floor, brother-in-law Derek on the second, my husband and I on the third. Since everyone was home, we had to eat together. Dinner was painfully awkward. I quickly ate a few bites and went upstairs to nurse Emily. Once it was quiet downstairs, I handed the baby to the nanny and grabbed my car keys to head to my postpartum fitness class. I got in the car and tried to close the door, but it wouldn’t shut. A shadow suddenly loomed over me. It was Derek. He forced the door open and climbed into the passenger seat. I opened my mouth to scream, but he covered it with his hand. In that moment, my mind raced—murder, rape, robbery… I wanted to escape, but reason told me it was useless. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for death, but he suddenly let go and shoved a photo in my face. It showed a mother lifting her shirt to nurse her child. The full, pale breasts dominated two-thirds of the picture. What horrified me was… The mother was me. The only person who could have taken it was my husband! I zoomed in countless times, searching for any sign it wasn’t him, but… The background was our bedroom. The angle was straightforward. “What is this supposed to mean?” My voice shook. He opened his phone. The first thing I saw was my husband’s messages in a group chat. “My wife’s chest got so much bigger after the baby—huge and soft. Enough to feed both me and the kid every time.” Below were photos of me nursing, taken at different times and places. It was a 15-person group—all men. His relatives, friends, and coworkers. I flung the phone away. Before I could scream, Derek covered my mouth again. “Shh!” I asked why he was showing me this. He said he felt terrible about what he did the other day and wanted to tell me the truth. “Big bro’s messages in the group were really explicit. I lost my mind and…” “What exactly did he say?” I still clung to hope. “He told everyone to go ahead and try it—no need to be polite…” His parting words: “Be careful of my brother.” Cold sweat poured down my back as I sat in the sealed car, heart pounding painfully in my ears. I calmed myself. If I confronted my husband directly, he’d deny everything and cover his tracks. I started the car and went to class as usual. That night, the nanny brought Emily to me to nurse. My husband, as always, asked the nanny to leave the room. I used to think it was just to protect my privacy. Once she left, he eagerly lifted my shirt. I cursed him as a pervert, but he just grinned foolishly. Emily nursed happily. I deliberately turned my body away from him. “Why so shy all of a sudden, honey?” “Yeah, you should leave too.” I teased, but he got annoyed, forcibly turned me to face him. I looked down at Emily’s face, catching in my peripheral vision that he was staring at his phone. He let out satisfied chuckles now and then. When he wasn’t looking, I tried to grab his phone. He immediately stuffed it in his pocket, on high alert. “What’s so funny? Let me see.” I stared seriously. He wiped the smile off his face. Under pressure, I got the phone, unlocked it, and went straight to the messaging app. I searched every chat—nothing like what Derek described. I was sweating profusely when he suddenly opened the photo album. The first image was me nursing—but only my head was visible, nothing below the neck. “Just saved an ugly pic of you, that’s all, scary wife.” He hung his head, looking wronged. I set Emily down and hugged him. “I thought…” “Thought I took pics of your chest? Silly wife, how could I? You’re a mom now—you deserve privacy. I respect that.” His eyes looked sincere. Was Derek lying to me?
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