I had an asthma attack and ended up in the hospital. While lying there, I called my husband and asked him to pick up our son from kindergarten.

But my husband dropped off our son halfway and just sent me a message asking me to pick him up.

Grasping the IV drip, I hurried over, breathless and desperate. Sadly, it was too late.

When I saw my son's small, lifeless body lying on the riverbank, I collapsed in tears, fainting on the spot.

When I regained consciousness, I saw my husband's old flame, flaunting their affection on social media.

[I just said I was sad, and he dropped everything to be with me. He's truly... oh, I'm deeply moved!]

The picture showed a sweet scene of my husband and Avery hugging her pet dog.

Struggling to breathe, I called my husband.

"Is this why you dropped of your son?" I asked.

My husband's cold voice came from the phone.

"It's not a big deal for you to pick up our son, but Avery can't live without me!"

——

Despair washed over me as I hung up and turned off my phone.

Reflecting on the ten years I spent with Julian Anderson, I realized that none of it compared to his childhood sweetheart, Avery Moore, who he had been longing for.

Suddenly, my love for him over the past decade seemed like a cruel joke.

Julian and I met during our freshman year.

Back then, he was sunny, handsome and full of talent.

He was the most dazzling presence in every girl's eyes.

I was practically groveling to get his attention, pursuing him for a whole year until he finally gave in.

Not long after we got together, I found out that he had a childhood sweetheart in his heart that he could never get.

We fought about it, and I cried, but his response was always the same, cold and mocking.

"If you don't like her, just go away. I'm not the one pestering you."

Every time he said that, I would bite back my tears, swallowing my pride.

I loved him and I couldn't live without him. I tried to convince myself that he only saw her as a sister and there was no need for me to be jealous.

I endured her calls that could summon him away at any moment.

I endured hearing him whisper her name in his sleep.

Even after I got married and became pregnant with our son, I endured.

Morning sickness left me unable to eat anything, and I asked him to get me some donuts from the shop nearby.

He made excuses, saying I wouldn't die if I waited until tomorrow, then went to sleep in the guest room.

Yet, when Avery called in the middle of the night, he rushed over to her place, claiming he was there to kill cockroaches for her.

On the night I gave birth to our son, he was fixing her water pipes.

I handled everything myself, big and small, never daring to ask for his help.

From my pregnancy to our son's birth, and even his school enrollment, I managed it all alone.

All he did was contribute a bit of genetic material, and he got to call himself a father.

If my asthma attack hadn't been so severe today, I would never have asked him to pick up our son.

It was the first and only time I ever asked him to pick up our child, and he left him halfway!

The little river beside the highway took my son's life.

My poor little boy, he was only five years old!

This morning, he had sweetly called his father "Good Daddy" before we left the house.

But now, he lay cold and lifeless before me, his body swollen beyond recognition.

What despair must he have felt?

I no longer had any expectations for Julian.

Cradling my son's cold body, I didn't inform Julian. I buried our son by myself.

Sitting by his grave, I quietly stared at his smiling photograph on the tombstone.

"Joseph, my dear son, find a better father in your next life."

Wiping the tears from my face, I wandered back to the hospital, lost and broken.

I've always had asthma, but I managed it with medication.

This time, it flared up again because Julian was smoking at home.

I suspect it was because Avery called him that night, saying her pet dog was sick, and I forced him to stay home.

He sat in the living room and smoked all night.

With my mind in turmoil and my body weak, I rushed to the hospital.

But I never expected to see a familiar pair at the pet clinic near the hospital entrance.

Avery was gently stroking the head of a little Teddy dog on the counter, looking distressed.

"Julian, look at Joe. Changing his bandage hurts so much. It breaks my heart," she said.

Julian, looking equally pained, patted Avery's shoulder and softly reassured her, "It's okay, it's just a little scratch on his ear. The bandage will help him heal."

Seeing them so meticulously tending to a dog made an intense wave of anger surge within me.

I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists as I rushed in.

"Julian! You don't have time to pick up our son, but you have time to take care of a dog?" I shouted.

Both of them looked up at me, and a deep anger immediately clouded Julian's face.

"Diana Clark, are you crazy? It wouldn't kill you to pick up our son. How dare you follow me here?" he retorted.

Avery, leaning on Julian's shoulder with a falsely innocent expression, looked at me with provocative eyes.

"Diana, don't be mad. My little Joe bumped into the table leg. That's why I called Julian to come over..."

My chest heaved with fury.

If murder were legal, I'd take the large scissors from the counter and stab these two filthy beings.

My son had died, and Julian hadn't even bothered to ask about it.

Yet here he was, fussing over his childhood sweetheart's dog.

In their eyes, my precious son was worth less than a dog!

And to top it off, I heard Avery call the dog "Joe"--the same nickname as my son.

I understood her intentions immediately.

I didn't believe Julian didn't understand it!

Unable to hold back any longer, I slapped Avery hard.

"Avery Moore! You shameless bitch! You like picking up trash that others discard? Here, have it!"

My slap left Avery stunned and Julian utterly shocked.

After all, in his eyes, I had always been the meek, obedient follower who never dared to talk back for the past ten years.

After a long pause, Julian finally wrapped Avery in his arms, looking at me with disbelief and anger.

"Diana, are you out of your mind?! It's just about not picking up our son. Do you have to come here and hit people? You're being unreasonable and crazy!"

He grabbed my arm forcefully.

"Apologize to Avery! Or you won't leave here today!" he demanded.

I turned to reach for the large scissors on the counter.

Fortunately, the quick-witted vet moved them out of my reach.

"Ma'am, calm down. Please, calm down. Don't let anger control you. It's not worth it," the vet pleaded, pale-faced, trying to calm me down.

I forced myself to suppress the anger, glaring at Julian with murderous intent.

He looked frightened, stepping back several paces under my gaze.

Suddenly, the situation felt absurd to me.

Calming myself, I sneered at the pair of them.

"Fine, I'll apologize. I'm sorry for hitting you," I said.

Julian's face relaxed slightly, probably out of guilt.

"You know, Avery only has this little Teddy that she has raised for five years. She can't stand any accidents to the puppy. I was afraid she'd be too upset if anything happened to the dog, so I rushed over to help. By the way, is our son mad at me? I'll buy him an Ultraman toy when I get home. He'll forgive me."

Our son had been dead for days, drowned, and he hadn't bothered to call or text once.

Now, here he was, pretending to be a caring father. I spat mentally at his hypocrisy.

The one who died was my beloved son, whom I had nurtured for five years!

I looked at him with extreme anger.

"No need."

After saying that, I turned around and was about to walk out.

Julian looked at me suspiciously and reached out to grab my arm.

"What do you mean by no need? I am Joseph's father after all. Okay, at most I will spend more time with him from now on. Stop overreacting."

I couldn't bear to waste another word on this scumbag. Shaking off his hand, I said, "Julian, let's get divorced."

Ignoring the astonishment on his face, I walked out resolutely.

After blood tests, nebulization, and an IV drip, followed by a prescription for a bunch of medication, I finally dragged myself home late in the day.

As soon as I walked in, something felt off.

The front door was wide open, and there were sounds of movement upstairs.

A sudden chill gripped my heart. Had a burglar broken in?

I was about to call the police when a toy suddenly fell down near me, narrowly missing my head.

Then, a scream came from my son's room.

"Ah--!"

Avery appeared in the corridor, not looking the least bit surprised to see me.

Instead, her face was filled with blatant provocation.

"Diana, you're back. I was tidying up the room and accidentally knocked over a toy. Did it hit you?"

I looked at her standing there as if she were the mistress of this house, and I was utterly dumbfounded.

I reached out and picked up the Transformer from the floor.

That was my son's favorite toy.

I ran upstairs in a rage and grabbed Avery.

"Who told you to touch my son's room? Who gave you the right to throw away his things? What are you trying to do, Avery Moore?!"

Avery struggled against my grip and lifted her chin defiantly.

"Who else could it be? Of course it was Julian who asked me to clean up. I told him my place was too noisy for Joe's recovery. He immediately offered me a room here, saying I could choose any room in the villa. So, I chose the one with the best sunlight for my little Joe!"

These shameless creatures planned to give my son's room to a dog!

I was furious beyond words.

"Avery Moore, you little whore! I will kill you today!"

After saying that, I grabbed her hair and was about to slam her head toward the wall!

"That's enough! Diana, stop it!"

Julian suddenly appeared at the door and rushed upstairs in just a few steps!