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The room spun as Tara lunged at me, her eyes blazing with desperation and fury. Luke moved fast, stepping between us, his arm shielding me. My heart pounded—not only from the danger but from realizing my own family had turned hostile.
“Tara, stop!” my father thundered, grabbing her arm. His face showed the struggle between duty and chaos. “Think about what you’re doing,” he pleaded, his tone cracking. Tara stayed defiant, jealousy etched on her face.
Luke guided me toward the door, but my mother’s cold voice stopped me. “You’ll regret this, Madison.” I turned back, aching. “The only thing I regret is believing you’d change.”
Outside, the air felt heavy with betrayal. In the car, I finally cried. Luke’s steady presence grounded me.
At home, I felt safe. Luke whispered, “We’re building something beautiful.” Despite the pain, I knew we were creating a foundation of love and safety for our child—stronger than any storm.
