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I'm the Stranger in Our Family Group Novel Cover

I'm the Stranger in Our Family Group

For two years, the protagonist of I'm the Stranger in Our Family Group has financed and arranged every Saturday meal. After receiving a demanding shopping list for Cody, Lexi, and Noah, an accidental text in the family chat exposes a harsh truth. Her relatives view her as a mere outsider despite her financial sacrifices. Realizing she is being exploited by people who do not value her, she chooses to skip the dinner and reclaim her dignity in this modern romance novel.
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Chapter 1

My mom calls me on Friday.

"Don't forget about tomorrow's family dinner. Cody loves shrimps, so you should buy more of those at the seafood market in the southern district.

"Lexi loves lamb chops. Go take a look in the eastern district for them. Also, don't forget to buy the imported strawberries. Noah loves them a lot."

I say yes to each and every request Mom makes.

But as soon as I end the call, I receive a text on the family group chat.

"I've already given Eileen a list of our favorite foods. It's tough for you to earn money these days, so you shouldn't buy anything."

One second later, that message is deleted.

Still, I'm flabbergasted by what I just read.

I've been married for two years. Every Saturday throughout those years, I'm the one paying and organizing the family dinner of the week.

I thought there's no need to be so petty when it comes to family. But it seems that they've already viewed me as the outsider a long time ago.

In that case, I won't be attending the family dinner anymore.

Nobody replied in the group chat.

A moment later, a WhatsApp message from my mother, Paige Lawson, popped up. "Forgot to mention, your dad's craving nachos."

I knew she was testing the waters. She wanted to see if I'd noticed her text in the group chat.

My fingers flew across the screen, typing furiously. "Why? I'm your biological daughter! Why am I suddenly an outsider just because I got married? Don't you guys love me anymore?"

But in the end, I deleted it all.

I left only a brief reply. "I have plans tomorrow. I won't be making it."

The second the message went through, my phone rang. It was Mom.

As soon as I answered, she launched into a tirade. "What is wrong with you? Saturday family dinner is a tradition. How can you just not show up? I don't care what else you have going on. You need to be there!"

Unable to hold it in any longer, I snapped, "Mom, I saw the message you sent."

The line went dead silent for a second, but she recovered quickly. "I just sent it by mistake. Besides, we're family. Is there really any need to be so petty?"

She said it so matter-of-factly that it made me look like the unreasonable one.

I let out a bitter laugh. "Have you ever actually treated me like family? You call it a family dinner, but I'm always the one running around while everyone else just sits around waiting to be served. I buy everything based on what everyone else likes, but has a single person ever asked what I want?"

I foolishly thought my words might spark a shred of remorse, but Mom only doubled down. "Your dad and I raised you. You owe us. That's just how it works! Besides, once you're married, you just have to pave your way back home with a little cash!"

A sharp ache pierced my chest.

So that was it. All my efforts were just a baseline expectation for her.

It never occurred to her that I had feelings, too, or that she was actively breaking my heart.

Before I could even speak, Mom continued, "Anyway, I'm hanging up. Come back early tomorrow."

With that, she ended the call.

I walked back to my desk and booked an evening train ticket to Solvane.

My coworker, Alice Hart, leaned over. "Don't you have that family dinner on Saturday? You're not going?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Not this time."

A look of suspicion crossed her face. "And your mom is okay with that?"

I managed a bitter smile but didn't answer.

Sensing my mood, she quickly changed the subject. "Well, I'm glad you finally came around. You and your husband barely see each other as it is. You should spend your weekends with him."

As soon as work let out, I packed my things and rushed to the train station.

When my husband, Hector Kline, saw me, his eyes lit up. "What are you doing here?"

"I missed you," I said quietly.

He was always incredibly attuned to my shifts in mood. Concern instantly flooded his face. "Hey, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

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