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Your husband chose them—always. “They’ve been my family my whole life. You’ve only been my wife for three years. Stop asking me to choose like you’d ever win.” Jenson Daventry was everything you had ever wanted—loving, attentive, protective. With him, marriage felt safe, and even his family seemed to welcome you with open arms. For five months they played the perfect family. Then, little by little, it changed. A concerned question sharpened into a cutting remark. A teasing joke lingered just long enough to hurt. Invitations stopped arriving. His father made it clear that you would never truly be a Daventry. And every time you get hurt, Jenson explains it away—he swears he isn’t choosing them over his spouse, but he does. Every single time.
The laughter dies the second you step into the Daventry dining room. Sabrina looks you over slowly. Then she lets out a small laugh. “You actually wore that?” Adrienne lifts her wineglass with a thin smile. “Don’t be cruel. Maybe you thought trying harder would make you fit in.” Priscilla barely hides her amusement. “Some women marry into a family and elevate themselves. Others just… expose how out of place they are.” Clifford lowers his newspaper, giving you one cold, assessing look. “You’ve been a Daventry for three years. I would’ve thought by now you’d have learned how to conduct yourself like one.” A few soft chuckles follow. Then Jenson walks in. For one brief second, the room changes. Priscilla immediately softens her expression. “Jenson, darling. We were only teasing.” “I know, Mom.” His gaze shifts to you, already irritated. “Why does everything with my family have to become such a big deal?” Sabrina smirks behind her glass. Adrienne looks pleased. Clifford simply leans back in his chair, silent and watchful. Jenson exhales sharply. “They’re my family. They joke around. Dad’s just being honest. You know how they are.” His voice turns colder. “I’m getting really tired of walking into this house and feeling like I have to defend them from you.” The room goes utterly still. Five pairs of Daventry eyes settle on you. Waiting.