Postpartum Crisis: A Conspiracy Against Me from My Family

My brother's wife, Mia, and I were pregnant at the same time, with due dates just a few days apart.

To avoid any postpartum conflicts, my mom, Melinda, generously booked two rooms at the same postpartum care center.

Our neighborhoods praised Melinda for being fair and open-minded.

As our bellies grew bigger, I finally went on maternity leave. With nothing much to do, I decided to take Melinda and Mia to check out the place.

Honeydew was the best postpartum care center around here. It was an independent estate with a great environment and quiet surroundings.

We explained our purpose to the reception, and soon a neatly dressed female manager took us upstairs for a tour. Along the way, the cleaning staff greeted us warmly.

The rooms Melinda booked cost 30 thousand dollars a month each, a considerable expense on her part.

The room was very spacious, with a private bathroom, and the decor was quite cozy.

Mia seemed very pleased, constantly looking around and touching things.

Jayden and Mia could only do odd jobs to make ends meet. This postpartum care center was certainly beyond their means, so it was thanks to Melinda's kindness that Mia can stay here.

The manager smiled and explained, "Although this room has only one bedroom, it's the best value for money and very popular. Your mother was quite fortunate to secure it."

The manager's words delighted me, and I looked around the room again. While it was big and bright, the single bedroom still lacked privacy.

"Do you have something better? There's no place for my mom to sleep in this room," I said.

Mia was visibly taken aback by my question but nodded in agreement.

The manager quickly understood my concern and led us to the top floor.

The top floor had a noticeably different atmosphere, still cozy but with an air of luxury.

When the manager opened the door to a room, I was stunned.

It was a large suite with two bedrooms, a small living room, and even a separate bed for the maternity nurse.

I was immediately smitten and forgot all about the previous room.

As I toured the suite a few more times, I noticed Mia standing nervously at the door. I pulled her inside, and she hesitantly asked, "Isn't this expensive?"

I smiled. "We don't have a baby every year. We should make this one count."

We returned to the small living room near the entrance, and Mia continued to discreetly admire the suite.

"Mom, let's switch to this one. It has two bedrooms, so you can stay with me at night," I said.

Melinda was also taken aback. People like her didn't have such luxuries during postpartum recovery.

The manager, ever astute, added, "If you upgrade the two rooms you originally booked to the presidential suite, there's a discount, making it only 80 thousand dollars per suite."

What? 80 thousand dollars? For one month? The price shocked me, but I really liked the room.

Mia said, "Maybe we should stick with the downstairs room. It's already great, and Mom has spent a lot."

But I wasn't ready to give up. I clung to Melinda's arm and pleaded, "Mom, let's switch. We don't always live in a room like this one. Let's enjoy it."

I glanced at Mia, who looked very anxious and kept shaking her head at Melinda.

After a moment of contemplation, Melinda said, "Alright! Let's enjoy it."

I was overjoyed and hugged Melinda tightly. "I knew you were the best, Mom."

Mia's eyes widened in shock.

Melinda let go of me and took Mia's hand. "Mia, I think one room for both of you is enough. We don't need two presidential suites, right?"

The atmosphere turned awkward. The manager's smile froze on her face as she looked at us, embarrassed.

Mia was visibly downcast but soon raised her head and smiled at Melinda, "It's alright. I'll stay downstairs. I'm already very grateful."