This year on Mother's Day, my girlfriend invited me to her family's home.

I jumped at the chance, convinced she was finally ready to give me a real place in her life.

I showed up at the front gate loaded down with bags of expensive supplements, looked up, and froze.

The family's stable hand was leading a horse out of the back courtyard, and the first words out of his mouth were about me paying respects.

“Call her Mom. Knock your head on the ground a few times. Then we'll consider letting you through the door.”

Rebecca Henson stood off to the side, picking at her manicure, not the least bit surprised.

I thought I was still dreaming：

“Becca, isn't today about visiting your mother? This joke's getting out of hand.”

Val Dickerson let out a cold laugh and slapped the horse's flank：

“Clearly never seen the world. This mare is the family's prized horse—she keeps the evil out and the luck in for the Hensons. Today's the third anniversary of her foaling, so Mother's Day is hers by right. You don't kowtow three times and call her Mom, you don't set foot inside.”

I stood there torn, turned to Rebecca for help, and found she was dead serious.

When I didn't move, Rebecca dropped every trace of her usual sweetness and jabbed a finger at me：

“You won't kneel? I've told you before. In this house, you listen to me, and you listen to Val!”

Fury shot straight to my head, and then Rebecca started counting down：

“Ten seconds. Every second you're late, that's one more kowtow!”

Val stood there grinning, raising the riding crop in a silent threat.

I was so angry I almost laughed. I didn't move an inch.

I stood ramrod straight.

Rebecca's brow creased：

“Fine. If you won't behave, Val can teach you a lesson.”

The next second, Val actually climbed onto my back and rode me like a horse.

Watching the woman I loved clap and cheer, something inside me went quiet.

Back home, the women begging for a marriage alliance with me lined up all the way to France.

So why was I here debasing myself against a stable hand?

……

“That's it! Val, your riding's really improved!”

Rebecca's smile, the one that used to light up every room, had never looked so ugly.

Val's full weight pinned me down.

Even in a moment this humiliating,

all I could think was that this was my first time coming to her family's door—I couldn't let things blow up.

I forced the words out, trying to reason with them：

“If this is a joke, let's end it here. I'll act like none of it happened.”

Val threw his head back laughing and cracked the riding crop across my thigh.

“Nobody's joking with you. You heard what Becca said. You won't listen, so don't blame me for punishing you!”

Pain twisted through my chest. Eight years with Rebecca, and the number of times I'd called her Becca I could count on one hand.

Only because she'd always said the nickname was too cheesy.

Yet a servant at her side could overstep like it was nothing, calling her Becca as if he had every right.

And Rebecca just smiled and let it happen.

That difference hurt more than anything the riding crop left on my body.

My eyes burned as I stared at Rebecca：

“You're serious, aren't you? You're really letting a servant humiliate the man you've been with for eight years?”

Rebecca looked at me like I'd told a joke：

“Oh, quit with the poor-me act. It's a few kowtows, not like I'm asking you to die. You can't even manage that and you still call yourself my boyfriend?”

I looked at the woman standing in front of me, radiating contempt.

I had come here today ready to propose.

Instead I'd been toyed with, and worse, trampled as a person.

For the first time, I asked myself whether what I had with Rebecca was worth any of this.

I gathered every ounce of strength I had and surged to my feet, sending Val sprawling.

He hit the ground hard, legs over head, staring up at me in disbelief.

After all this time, it was the first time I'd ever defied him.

Before he could open his mouth, Rebecca was already on her feet.

She shoved a finger in my face and screamed：

“Jack Sanchez, have you lost your damn mind? Everything I told you, did you feed it all to the dogs?”

I let out a cold laugh. Back when Rebecca and I first got together, she was always mentioning this stable hand her family kept.

Said he'd grown up alongside her. That he'd saved her life once, and she owed him for it.

The very first time we met, he came at me with a show of force, saying I hadn't greeted him properly.

I figured he was young, so I apologized, polite as could be.

All I got in return was a sneer：

“Some ill-bred nobody thinks he can walk into the Henson house!”

After that, it only got worse.

If I was even a beat late raising a toast to him at dinner, I was treating him like he didn't exist.

He didn't just look down his nose at me. He carried himself like he was the man of the house.

There were even times I wanted to spend a little longer alone with Rebecca.

He'd barge straight in, claiming he was doing some kind of mind-and-body cleansing today. No intimacy allowed in the Henson home.

His acting was so pathetic it actually made me laugh.

“Val, if you want to ruin our moment, just say so. Why bother with the performance?”

In the beginning, Rebecca would at least step in to smooth things over：

“Come on, Val, stop giving Jack a hard time. This is between the two of us. Go on out.”

But later, when she saw me getting pushed around, she wouldn't even glance my way. She'd side with him, tell me I was being dramatic.

“It's not like Val took a piece out of you. Do you really have to go after him like this?”

I stared at the absurdity playing out in front of me.

My own fiancée, taking a stable hand's side at every turn.

A stable hand, with the nerve to ride roughshod over me.

I'd spoiled Rebecca too much. That was what gave them the courage to treat me this way.

I brushed the mud off my clothes.

The stench still clung to me, thick and ripe.

I had never been humiliated like this in my life. I wasn't about to swallow it now.

“Have you thought about me even once? You can't even tell right from wrong, and you're already pointing the finger at me?”

I pointed straight at Val's hideous face, my voice ice-cold：

“Rebecca, do me a favor and figure out who your husband is supposed to be.”

“What kind of future man of the house takes orders from a stable hand?”

Before I even finished, Rebecca's eyes went red, and she screamed at me：

“Watch your mouth! What do you mean, stable hand?!”

“Did you forget the three house rules I told you? You show Val respect at all times!”

“That's a major offense. Don't even think about touching me for a month!”

Her dead-serious little decree was so absurd it made me laugh. Even now, at a time like this.

She still thought she could keep me in line with sex.

When I'd loved her to the point of stupidity, I'd agreed, in the heat of it, to her three so-called “house rules.”

First, never call Val Dickerson a “stable hand.”

Second, treat Val like family every time I saw him, without exception.

Third, the pecking order in the Henson house went Rebecca first, Val second, and me below them both.

Even her own parents didn't rank as high as Val.

Looking back now, it was nothing but a joke. I couldn't believe I'd ever been that pathetically blind.

It never crossed my mind that the two of them might have something shady going on behind my back.

Now that the feeling was gone, everything was a hell of a lot clearer.

I scoffed, turned, and started walking away.

“Punish me however you want. I don't care anymore. I'm done with this house!”

I'd barely taken two steps when Rebecca's voice rang out behind me, shaking with laughter.

“Oh, a big man talking tough, is that it?”

“You might be able to walk away from this house, but walk away from me? I'll believe it when pigs fly!”

The servants standing around exchanged uneasy glances, their faces flushing red from trying not to react.

Rebecca wasn't wrong, honestly.

Not a single person here believed I'd actually give up my position as the man of the house and leave her.

After all, back then I'd given up everything just to be with her.

I followed her around like a pathetic, groveling dog.

Gave up my career overseas for her.

Poured her tea, fetched her water, did whatever she needed.

All so I could hear her say those words: I do.

She'd said them, once.

“Jack, I see everything you do for me. From now on, we're family. No one gets to bully you.”

But I didn't love her anymore. And without love, there was no reason left to swallow any of it.

I ignored them both, turned away, and called Noah to have my things moved out.

This house. I'd bought it in secret, built to Rebecca's exact taste, five hundred million spent to make it hers.

Since she had no loyalty, she didn't deserve to live in it either.

“Pack your things and get out. Neither of you deserves this house.”

Rebecca and Val doubled over laughing：

“Have you lost your mind? You actually think this house is yours?”

Rebecca reached over and pressed her hand to my forehead：

“Did the fever fry your brain? You really think you could afford this place?”

“Don't forget, this house was Val's reward for winning first place at the international equestrian championship!”

Val's nostrils flared toward the ceiling the moment she finished, like he was the household's biggest hero.

Hero?

Watching them state it with such unshakable certainty, I laughed.

They clearly had no idea who organized that competition in the first place.

I was about to tell them the truth.

Then the servants, who'd been clustering around the commotion, suddenly fell into a neat line and went silent.

Ken Henson and Marcia Henson appeared, flanked by an entourage.

The old man looked me over head to toe, displeasure flashing across his face, then thumped his cane and sat down.

I'd crossed paths with Old Mr. Henson a few times before, but only as passing acquaintances at business functions. Nothing that would leave an impression.

Seeing me looking this wrecked, he had even less chance of recognizing me.

Marcia smiled warmly and asked Rebecca what had happened.

Rebecca faltered, eyes darting, and the lie spilled out before she could think：

“Oh, you know, some thug who had a run-in with Val a while back. Must've lost his mind, because he showed up today to start trouble. We were just about to throw him out.”

Val chimed in right on cue：

“That's right. Just some clueless nobody. We'll have him gone in a minute.”

I was so angry I almost laughed. I opened my mouth to set the record straight, but what Ken said next stopped me cold.

“Becca, I know you look out for Val because you two have been close since you were kids. But you never date anyone. As your father, that doesn't sit right with me.”

Rebecca opened her mouth, then closed it. So that was it. Eight years, and she had never once acknowledged me to her family.

I'd brought it up with her more than once. I wanted a real place in her life.

But she never gave me so much as a chance to visit, never invited me to a single family dinner or gathering.

When I asked why, she gave me the flimsiest excuse imaginable.

“My family's strict. I've always been the obedient daughter. I'd never dare go against my father.”

I believed every word. Promised myself, silently, that I'd love her twice as hard.

Now I could see it for what it was. Just an excuse she made up because she never wanted to claim me.

My fists clenched so tight the knuckles ached, and still none of it made sense.

I graduated top three Ivy League overseas. Height, looks, family background—none of it was lacking. Not a single thing.

What exactly wasn't good enough for Rebecca Henson?

Beside her, Val's gaze on Rebecca deepened, like a man staring at an angel he wanted but could never have.

I saw it clearly. I was about to call them out, expose whatever it was between them, but before I could get a word out—

Val's eyes shifted, and he turned the blade on me：

“Sir, I'll just say it straight—this guy's a creep. He's been all over Becca, won't leave her alone. That's the whole reason she won't date anyone. You think we'd come down on him this hard otherwise?”