I worked until I was 7 months pregnant, saving money for maternity leave. Hannah quit her job as a social media coordinator immediately, claiming stress. My parents supported her financially, of course. Drew made good money, but apparently not enough to satisfy Hannah’s sudden need for a designer nursery that cost more than my annual salary. Marcus noticed the disparity more than I did, probably because he hadn’t grown up with it.

After a particularly painful family dinner where Patricia showed us 12 different shade options for Hannah’s nursery walls while barely acknowledging my existence, Marcus held my hand in the car.

“You don’t have to keep subjecting yourself to this,” he said quietly.

They’re my family, I replied, rubbing my swollen belly. They’ll be this baby’s grandparents.

Will they though? Marcus asked.