He Faked His Fall, We Left for Joy

To pay off my son's debts, I swept the streets at dawn, sold vegetables in the morning, washed dishes at a restaurant in the afternoon and sew insoles at night.

Even my granddaughter works part-time while studying, living so frugally that she splitted a single bread across two meals.

One morning, while sweeping the street, I saw a soda bottle thrown from a car and hurried over to pick it up.

The driver jumped out and kicked me to the ground.

"Get lost, you old hag! If you dirty Mr. Lockwood and the others' clothes, ten lives wouldn't be enough to pay for it!"

I curled up and clutched my stomach as I watched Deryl step out in a tailored suit while escorting his first love and her daughter.

"Cynthia, today's your birthday. I booked the whole hotel to celebrate it with the city's elite."

"For you, I'm willing to give up everything."

He said with deep affection.

"Even your own mother and daughter?"

The first love asked.

"Of course."

"They're nothing but burdens. I've wanted to get rid of them for a long time."

My son didn't hesitate

I was shocked and cried for a long time.

Just then, my granddaughter came stumbling out of the hotel, blood trickling down her forehead. She helped me up and whispered, "Don't cry, Grandma. We don't need him anymore. I'll take you to Scandinavia."

——

"Dad has extra work for the May Day holiday and can't get away right now. Lucy, you take good care of Grandma."

"As for the medical expenses, haven't you been earning your tuition with part-time jobs? Just pay for it first."

The moment my son hung up the phone.

I felt a mix of anger and disappointment. My whole body trembled uncontrollably and I raised my hand to slap myself repeatedly. "What sin did I commit, heavens, to birth such a son?"

"Grandma, please don't do this! It's all Dad's fault. He only has that first love, Cynthia Larkin, in his heart."

Lucy hugged me tightly, comforting me through her tears.

"No wonder every time Cynthia's daughter bullied you and I went to the school to talk to them, your father would always tell me to be patient."

"So, he's been using all the money to please Cynthia and her daughter."

Looking back at seven years ago, I felt utterly foolish.

At that time, Deryl knelt before me, saying his company had gone bankrupt and he owed millions.

I didn't blame him. Instead, I sold everything I had, mortgaged my home and borrowed money from everywhere.

I even handed over the gold bracelet my late husband gave me when we were married to the creditor.

That night, my son stayed up all night carving a wooden bracelet to give to me.

He said, "Mom, I'm sorry. I'll definitely buy back the bracelet for you in the future."

I was touched and heartbroken. From then on, I worked every job I could find, sometimes ten in a single day.

I collapsed on the street in the early morning several times.

The doctor told me to eat more nutritious food.

However, I couldn't bear to eat a single egg. Every penny I earned went to help my son repay his debts.

My granddaughter, Lucy, was even more understanding.

I'd saved up money for her to study abroad, but she refused to take it. She relied entirely on her part-time jobs to earn money and would transfer any extra she had to her father.

She ate only a piece of bread at school all day long.

She became thin and dark-skinned, so frail that she looked like she could be blown over by the wind and her development was far behind that of her peers.

She was also constantly bullied by Cynthia's daughter, Summer.

Her backpack would be filled with toads.

Glue would be smeared on her chair.

It happened all the time.

I wondered why nothing had changed, no matter how many times I had talked to the school.

Now I understand.

It was Deryl who was backing them up.

Fortunately, Lucy was intelligent and determined. She obtained a national scholarship to study abroad and was even allowed to bring one family member.

Since he favored his first love and her daughter.

Then we would grant him his wish and not be eyesores any longer.

The next morning, my son finally came.

His hair was disheveled and he had removed his expensive, tailored suit, replacing it with worn-out blue work clothes.

In his hand, he carried what he called leftovers, packed by his company.

Thinking of how painstakingly he switches back and forth every day.