My Wife Forced My 7-Months-Pregnant Daughter to Sleep on an Air Mattress on the Floor — She Never Expected How Far I’d Go to Protect My Child

She clapped. “Let me see!”

I handed her the box. Inside were folded black trash bags.

“Packing material,” I said. “You and Sarelle have three days to move out.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

Aurelia appeared, hand on her belly. “Dad, you don’t have to—”

“I do,” I said.

Vionna stood. “You’re kicking us out? Over a mattress?”

“A mattress?” I snapped. “You lied to my pregnant daughter. Humiliated her. Made her sleep on the floor. This isn’t about a mattress—it’s about decency.”

She stammered. “It was a misunderstanding.”

“No,” I said. “You’ve resented Aurelia since day one. That resentment just cost you our marriage.”

Sarelle came downstairs, confused. “Mom, what’s going on?”

“You have three days,” I told them. “I won’t live with anyone who treats my child like she’s disposable.”

Vionna gasped. “After everything I’ve done?”

“After everything Aurelia’s survived,” I said. “Don’t play the victim.”

She erupted—pleading, shouting, cursing. I stayed calm. “Come, sweetheart,” I said to Aurelia. “Let’s start their packing.”

Upstairs, Vionna sulked. Sarelle scrolled her phone. We packed in silence. By noon, Vionna was calling friends for a place to stay. I didn’t care. I made sure Aurelia ate, propped her feet up, and tried to erase the image of her on that air mattress.

Three days later, they were gone. No apology. Just slammed doors.

The house exhaled.

That evening, Aurelia sat in the guest room—on the real bed—eyeing the crib. She rubbed her belly. “Thank you, Dad.”

I kissed her forehead. “Always.”

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