My son was diagnosed with a severe heart condition, and the doctors warned us to avoid any strenuous activity.

I asked my husband to take him to the hospital, but he dismissed my concerns, accusing me of being overprotective. Instead, he sent our son to a fencing class, insisting that physical exercise would do him good.

Tragically, after the class, our son collapsed and went into shock. His organs failed, and he died. While still recovering from breast surgery and battling a high fever, I had to arrange his funeral.

During this heart-wrenching time, my husband, who had been missing for days, sent a picture of himself with a college girl I had been financially supporting. They were on a parent-child study tour abroad. His message read, "So proud of you, sweetheart."

Heartbroken, I packed my things and left.

My husband, with tears streaming down his face, pleaded for my forgiveness.

1

Returning home with my son Oliver Brooks' belongings from school, I was greeted by an unexpected sight.

In the warm, comforting light of our dining room, my husband, Daniel Brooks, was sitting close to Lily, Claire Morgan's daughter, patiently guiding her through her homework.

Nearby, Claire delicately fed grapes to Daniel, creating an intimate family portrait.

As soon as Daniel noticed me, his expression soured. "Grace, slacking off work again? Your laziness is getting out of hand," he scolded.

Claire, wiping the sweat from his brow, turned to me with a sweet smile. "Grace, we've been on a study tour for a week, and Lily has fallen behind. Daniel is helping her catch up. You don't mind, do you?"

I watched Daniel attentively explain the lesson, repeating himself with patience and care, a stark contrast to how he treated our son.

When Oliver had once sought his help with a difficult problem, Daniel dismissed him. "Are you dumb? Can't solve something this simple?"

His harsh words brought tears to Oliver's eyes, and instead of comforting him, Daniel had punished him with a belt.

Just as I was about to speak, Claire sneezed unexpectedly.

Daniel immediately sprang into action, draping a coat over her shoulders and asking tenderly if she needed to see a doctor.

I remembered the lump I had found in my breast not long ago. The doctor had warned it might be serious and advised me to have a family member accompany me for surgery.

I had pleaded with Daniel to be there, but he coldly replied, "It's just a small lump. Stop being so dramatic."

It turned out to be breast cancer, but to him, it was a trivial matter.

The difference between love and indifference was painfully clear.

Daniel began massaging Claire's shoulders, and she glanced at me, murmuring, "Grace is still here. She might not like this..."

But I was beyond caring.

I had already decided that once my surgery was over, I would leave with Oliver and let them have their life together.

Now, with my son gone, there was nothing left to hold me here.

I cleared my throat and said, "Daniel, I want a divorce."

Daniel didn't even look up from his phone, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "What's gotten into you? Have you lost your mind?"

"Oliver is just in middle school. Do you know how much a divorce would affect him?

"Even if you don't care about him, I do."

I couldn't help but laugh bitterly. Daniel's own parents had divorced when he was in middle school, and he always blamed their split for his academic downfall.

After Oliver was born, Daniel had solemnly promised that we would stay together for our child's sake.

But over the years, Daniel had perfected the art of evasion. First, he claimed he didn't know how to look after a child. Later, he hid behind his busy work schedule.

He forgot Oliver's birthday, didn't know which school he attended, and had no idea about his favorite foods.

And now, he was suddenly concerned about the impact of a divorce on Oliver?

It was absurd.

I fought back tears and said, "Think whatever you want. I don't care."

Claire approached, trying to smooth things over. "Grace, don't be mad at Daniel. He's so responsible and caring, the perfect father. I wish I had someone like him.

"Don't let his kindness to Lily fool you. I know he believes that being strict is a form of love. Sending Oliver to fencing was his way of preparing him for the future. Unlike me..."

Daniel patted her shoulder, reassuring her. "Ignore her. She's just lazy and resents others for working hard. What an ungrateful person.

"They say if you don't work hard when you're young, you'll regret it when you're old. One day, our son will thank me for this."

Hearing that, I couldn't help but let out a cold laugh.

Ignoring them, I started moving Oliver's things into his room.

The books were heavy, and my surgery wound hadn't fully healed. Each time I lifted a stack, a sharp pain shot through my chest.

My face was flushed. I felt feverish, and sweat poured down my back.

I struggled with a large suitcase, feeling my strength fade.

Daniel finally noticed, grabbing my arm angrily. "Can't you ask for help?"

He stopped when he saw my red eyes and tired face, his tone softening. "Am I really that unreliable?"

I must be hallucinating, seeing what looked like concern in his eyes.

He sighed, "Oliver's grades have slipped. I know it's been hard on you. How about I help him with his studies tomorrow?"

Tomorrow would be the seventh day since Oliver died, and he still thought Oliver was alive.

If Daniel had shown this concern earlier, maybe I wouldn't hate him so much now.

I pushed him away. "No need."

Daniel looked at me, confused.

I understood why.

I used to beg him to spend more time with Oliver, saying our son needed his example. I even threatened divorce in my desperation.

Now, when he offered to help, I turned him down.

Feeling perhaps a bit guilty, he tried to pull me aside to talk.

Just then, Claire picked up Oliver's report card and hospital records, reading them loudly.

"This score? Lily could do better without trying. Daniel, your son is just as dumb and useless as you said.

"And faking medical records to skip school? What a talent."

I couldn't believe it.

How dare she say that?

Without thinking, I slapped her.

The guilt on Daniel's face vanished in an instant.

He stepped in front of Claire, shielding her as he shot me a suspicious look. "Grace, did you hit her?"

I fixed my stare on Claire, my voice icy. "You have no right to judge my son."

Claire's eyes welled up with tears. "I know you've always looked down on me, but Daniel is a good man and capable. I don't want him to be kept in the dark.

"Oliver's so young, and he's already faking medical records. Who knows what he'll do when he grows up?"

I frowned, turning to Daniel. "Do you really think Oliver did that?"

Daniel fell silent, his gaze sweeping the room before a bitter laugh escaped him. "What else? Oliver's as strong as an ox. How could he be dead?"

I bit back a bitter smile, my heart heavy.

If he'd just read my messages or answered my calls, he would have known Oliver was gone.

But I was just a nuisance to him. He blocked my number and told me not to lose it.

In his eyes, Oliver's cries of exhaustion were laziness, and my illness was just me slacking off.

To Daniel, my son and I were like wound-up clocks, expected to tick along to his rigid schedule, every second mapped out by his rules.

But I was never one for rules, or I wouldn't have been the one to save him back then.

The year we graduated, while everyone else was hunting for jobs, I was off exploring the world.

One night by the river, I found Daniel ready to end it all. He said his father's pressure was crushing him, depression gnawing at him, and he just wanted to escape.

I stayed with him, night after night and helped him go from nothing to the CEO of a Fortune 500 company.

Daniel's eyes bore into mine now, his voice dripping with accusation.

"Do you have any idea how exhausted I am every day? If it weren't for our son, do you think I'd bother with these relentless investors, this endless grind?

"And here you are, stirring up trouble instead of helping. If you were half as smart and driven as Claire, I wouldn't have to work so hard."

Claire was smart, all right. I knew that the moment I first laid eyes on her.

I was just passing through a remote village when I first met Claire. Her parents were trying to marry her off to an old bachelor right after she finished middle school.

I couldn't just stand by, so I stepped in and saved her, promising to help her get through college.

Back then, she was so grateful.

After I got married, I worried she might be struggling at school, so I often invited her over for meals, bought her clothes, and even got her a phone.

Then, in her sophomore year, I found out she was pregnant.

I panicked and urged her to get an abortion.

But Claire was stubborn. She said she'd never had a real family, and she was determined to raise the baby while continuing her studies.

I was furious and cut ties with her, but Daniel secretly supported her.

When she finally gave birth, I couldn't stay angry. I ended up taking care of her and even helped with the baby while she finished school.

When she had nowhere to stay, I let her live in our home.

It wasn't until Oliver started complaining that Daniel kept giving his toys to Lily and the neighbors began warning me to keep an eye out that I finally asked her to move out.

By then, she was more than capable of handling things on her own.

After that, Daniel seemed to get busier with work, staying late, working longer hours, and growing colder toward me.

I even thought about divorce.

But every time I saw how Oliver reacted when his classmates' parents divorced or when he eagerly awaited those rare moments Daniel spent with him, I hesitated.

I grew up an orphan. I didn't have much to begin with, so love or no love, it shouldn't matter to me.

I told myself that, but I couldn't stop the lump in my throat or the ache in my heart.

I was ready to let go as I had bought a small house by the sea, found a good school for Oliver, and was all set to live out the rest of our lives in peace, surrounded by nature.

So why, when Daniel couldn't even find the time to take Oliver to the doctor, did he rush to catch a flight to accompany Claire overseas?

I glanced at Daniel, disappointment heavy in my heart.

Oliver had asked me time and again after being let down by his father. "Mom, why doesn't Dad like me?"

I never knew how to explain it to him. Daniel had fallen out of love with me, and gradually, that extended to Oliver too.

They said love begot love, but I guessed hate worked the same way.

Just as Daniel was about to speak, Claire's shrill scream pierced the air.