After My Son Died, I Set My Husband Free

My son, Matthew Wilson, died of a heart attack despite all efforts to save him. With his last breath, he longed to see his father.

I called his father, Daniel Wilson, crying and begging him to come to the hospital immediately.

Daniel's tone was impatient.

"Stop bothering me, I have something urgent tonight."

I watched as Matthew, eyes glued to the door, waited anxiously. Desperate, I called Daniel three more times.

He simply turned off his phone. At 2 AM, Matthew passed away with regret.

That night, I knelt beside Matthew's lifeless body, sleepless until dawn.

The next day, a news alert popped up on my phone.

"Wilson Group CEO splurges to throw a lavish birthday party for his first love, Isabella Davis."

My hands trembled as I texted Daniel.

[Was your urgent matter last night celebrating Isabella's birthday?]

As the staff handed Matthew's urn to me, my phone vibrated with a message from Daniel. His words were tender yet icy.

[I promised her I'd be there. I couldn't break my word.]

***

"Let's get a divorce."

Daniel was my dream man, leaving a significant mark on my youth.

In my freshman year, I had an intense crush on him. By my sophomore year, I was lucky enough to be chosen by Daniel's grandfather, James Wilson, to learn the ways of high society. In my junior year, Daniel and I had a flash wedding, and by the time I graduated, I was already pregnant with his child.

To outsiders, I was incredibly fortunate.

But no one knew that because Daniel believed I had used underhanded means to get pregnant, he scarcely came home in the five years of our marriage.

To avoid affecting his work, I only called him when it was absolutely necessary.

When Matthew had a high fever and wanted to see his father, I patiently comforted him. When I had stomach surgery, I went alone. Even when I was in labor, Daniel didn't show up.

I thought that if I was considerate enough, he would eventually see my sincerity.

But little did I know that my humble submission only made him more brazen in seeking out Isabella.

"Ms. Miller, here is your son Matthew's urn."

The staff handed me the urn.

I carefully wrapped it in layers of black cloth and held it close to my chest as I hailed a cab to return home and pack up Matthew's clothes.

As soon as I walked in, I saw two familiar figures sitting intimately on the sofa.

"Daniel, your cooking is so delicious."

Isabella's coy voice stabbed at my nerves. Matthew was four years old, and Daniel had never cooked a meal for him.

Whenever I asked him to spend time with Matthew, he always said he was busy.

But whenever Isabella called, he'd drop everything and rush to her side.

I turned to go upstairs, and Daniel, catching sight of me from the corner of his eye, let out a cold snort.

"Charlotte Miller, you're really something, making up any lie just to ruin Isabella's birthday party."

In Daniel's eyes, I was nothing but a liar.

He believed I had manipulated James into forcing him to marry me, I had used dirty tricks to get pregnant, and even Matthew's death from a heart attack was just another one of my lies.

My heart was dead. Ignoring him, I continued heading upstairs.

Behind me, Isabella, stroking her large Chow Chow, attempted to provoke me.

"Sorry, Ms. Miller. When you called Daniel last night, I actually wanted him to come home, but he insisted on spending the night with me for my birthday. I wanted to eat his cooking today, so he brought me here. I hope we didn't disturb you?"

I paused. Now that I was determined to divorce Daniel, so Isabella meant nothing in my eyes.

"Do you need me to tweet my congratulations on your successful ruin my marriage?"

"Enough, Charlotte! Watch your mouth!"

Daniel instantly rushed to Isabella's defense, his tone full of concern.

I said nothing, hugging the urn as I headed upstairs, only wanting to pack Matthew's clothes and leave as soon as possible.

In the spacious bedroom, I wiped away my tears while folding Matthew's clothes into a suitcase.

At some point, Daniel had come upstairs. He stood at the doorway, frowning as he tried to make amends.

"My phone didn't die on purpose last night, it just ran out of battery."

I didn't look up, not even wanting to acknowledge him.

In the past, I would've been overjoyed if he had apologized first. I would have hugged him, convincing myself that it was unintentional, and pretended that nothing had happened.

But now, just looking at him made me feel sick.

I knew perfectly well that if it had been Isabella who called him last night, even if his phone had died or if he were stranded in the wilderness, he would have found a way to get back to her.

I understood that he didn't love me.

But Matthew was innocent...

Seeing that I wasn't responding, Daniel stepped in front of me, trying to stop me from packing the clothes.

"It was my fault last night. How's Matthew? The medical team I hired will arrive from abroad in a few days."

My hand paused on the suitcase, and I looked up at him with tear-filled eyes.

"It's not necessary."

Matthew had no desire to see him now.

Refusing to follow the lead Daniel was offering, I noticed the anger flicker across his face.

"Charlotte, don't be ungrateful. This medical team is top-notch, specializing in pediatric cardiology. Haven't you always dreamed of having them treat Matthew?"

Once that team arrived, Matthew would have had a 60% chance of survival.

But now, none of that mattered.

Daniel no longer had any leverage over me.

Six months ago, I begged Daniel to help Matthew, but he had never shown any real concern for his condition.

It was his constant delays that led to Matthew's breakdown yesterday, causing this tragedy.

"There's no need to call them."

"What on earth is wrong with you?"

Daniel finally sensed that something was off.

When I still didn't respond, his face fell.

"Charlotte, you're already my wife. Isabella is disabled because of you. What more do you want?"

The day Daniel and I went to the city hall to get our marriage license, Isabella drove over to stop us, only to have a car accident.

Her right leg wasn't amputated, but she would need crutches for the rest of her life.

Naturally, Daniel blamed me for the whole thing.

"I've told you before, it was her own poor driving. She deserved it, and it has nothing to do with me."

It was all because she was plotting something she shouldn't have been.

Daniel let out a cold laugh, his voice turning icy.

"Charlotte, you're truly heartless."

"Thank you for the compliment."

"Can't you show some compassion for Isabella? She's disabled, and her parents don't blame us. They just hope I can take care of her."

"My parents died a long time ago, so now those who still have parents all band together to bully me?"

Daniel was silent for a moment, then turned and left.

After I finished packing Matthew's belongings, I went to the bathroom.

When I came out, Matthew's urn was gone. Panicking, I called for the housemaid, Tina Turner, to come upstairs.

"Tina, where's the thing I left on the table? Wrapped in black cloth?"

Tina kept her head down, unable to meet my eyes.

"Ms. Davis' dog just came upstairs and took it to play with."

My eyes reddened with fury as I stormed downstairs.