Seven years of marriage. Seven years of building a quiet, loving life with my husband, Harry, centered around our sweet son, Leo. But our fragile world shattered the moment her shadow fell across our doorstep—Harry's captivating first love, Claire, and her son, Jake.

She and her son forced Leo to eat an entire sugary cake on his birthday, causing his blood sugar to rise dangerously.

I tried to stop them, but the real betrayal came from my husband, who emotionally tortured our son into eating the last sugary bomb, leading him to death.

I hadn't recovered from the trauma of watching my son die before my eyes when my husband blew away Leo's ashes before my eyes, the only remains of my son.

That was when I decided, not only to divorce him, but to make him pay for his each and every sin.

I watched my son, six-year-old Leo, shrink back from the towering, multi-layered chocolate cake. His face was pale, already damp with sweat despite the air conditioning.

He’d been a Type 1 diabetic since the time we noticed his symptoms, and just the sight of that sugar bomb made my own heart pound.

“Harry, please,” I said, walking up to my husband who was laughing loudly with a woman I knew too well—Claire, the mother of the birthday boy and the reason for the constant, cold knot in my stomach.

"Can you stop them? Leo can’t have that much sugar."

The birthday party was an extravagant event for Claire’s son, Jake, held in our shared backyard, because Harry wanted Jake not to feel inferior to anyone, not even our son, Leo.

Harry looked at me, his smile wavering for a split second before hardening. He lowered his voice, the irritation barely concealed. "Don't make a scene, Darcy. I have already told you the cake is sugar free. It's Jake’s birthday. We don’t want Leo to feel excluded."

"But, Leo doesn't seem fine." I protested.

Leo, seeing the slice of cake approaching, gripped my hand tighter. "Mommy, no. My stomach hurts.

"Let it be, Harry. Tell them not to force Leo if he doesn't want it." I pleaded, trying to keep my voice even, acutely aware of Claire watching us with a smug, expectant look.

Harry simply waved a dismissive hand. "It'll be fine, Darcy. Live a little. Your overprotectiveness has spoilt him. Go on, Leo, try your friend’s cake. Be a good sport."

He flashed a paternal, yet condescending smile that felt like a slap.

Leo still looked afraid and dared not take one more bite. Harry's eyes darkened and he commanded, his voice cold, devoid of any emotion. "Eat it or I'm gonna slap your mother right here."

"Harry!" I shouted, "What's wrong with you? You are scaring our child."

"Let me handle this my way, Darcy." He snapped back, turning back to look at Leo with a pair of cold and commanding eyes. "Did you not hear me, Leo?"

Leo, my poor child. He looked at me with eyes filled with tears before he grabbed a spoonful of sugary cake. Before I could physically intervene, Leo had swallowed a bite, his eyes wide with fear and then pain.

I felt a surge of cold terror. I took Leo away, rushing him to a quiet corner where I quickly tested his blood. The number on the monitor screamed danger.

"Harry! Look!" I rushed back, holding the meter out to him. His attention, however, was fixed on Claire, who was whispering something into his ear that made him chuckle.

"Just a minute, Darcy. Claire's telling me about Jake’s new school." He held up a hand, the familiar gesture of dismissal that always made me feel insignificant.

"Harry, he needs his correction dose now. His blood sugar is through the roof. He’s going to faint," I choked out, my voice trembling with urgency.

He finally turned, his expression annoyed rather than concerned. "I told you it would be fine! Just give him a little juice. You always overreact, Darcy."

But before I could argue, Leo stumbled, his small frame swaying violently. He tried to speak, but only a gurgling sound came out, and then he collapsed onto the grass.

A primal scream tore from my throat. "Leo! Oh my God, Harry! We have to go to the hospital! Immediately!"

Harry finally saw the gravity of the situation. His face drained of color. He scrambled to his feet, pulling his car keys from his pocket.

"Okay, okay. Get him. I’ll pull the car around," he said, turning toward the garage.

Relief washed over me, so potent it almost made me dizzy. I bent down, cradling my limp son, whispering his name.

But just as Harry reached the back door, a sharp, childish cry ripped through the air.

"Daddy! Look! I’m a doctor!"

Jake, Claire’s son, stood proudly next to the bag where I kept Leo’s emergency kit. He held the orange, biohazard container of insulin vials. One of the needles was plunged into a vial, and another was stuck into his own leg. The floor was sticky with the broken glass of three more vials.

Harry stopped dead. His eyes darted from his unconscious son, Leo, to his mistress’s son, Jake, who was now crying in confusion.

Claire screamed in panic. "Jake! What did you do? Harry, look! He's hurt himself! He might have injected himself with something!" she shrieked, hysteria mounting.

Harry looked at me, then at the destroyed insulin, then back at the small, frightened child in Claire’s arms. The decision was instantaneous and brutal.

"I have to go," he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion.

Shock paralyzed me. "What? No, Harry," I whispered, holding my fading son tightly. "Leo is unconscious! He needs immediate glucose and an IV! You can’t leave!"

Harry met my eyes, a frantic, desperate look mixed with a terrible sort of resignation. "I'm sorry, Darcy. But... Jake doesn't know what he injected. It could be lethal. He's just a child. I have to take him to the emergency room right now."

"And Leo? Is he not a child? Not yours?" I choked out.

A moment of hesitation flickered through his eyes before his eyes darkened again as he said, "Leo will be fine, Darcy. Just give him correction and wait for me to come back. He will be alright."

And with that, he turned, scooped up Jake and Claire, and rushed out the door, the sound of the car engine roaring to life a moment later.

The black SUV sped down the driveway, leaving me kneeling on the grass, clutching my dying son, watching his other child and his other woman disappear in a cloud of dust.

He asked me to give correction to Leo, knowing quite well that his loving child, Jake, had already destroyed everything.

What was I supposed to do now? Wait for him to come back? Was he actually coming back for us or was it just another excuse?

"Leo," I begged, tears streaming down my face. "Please, hold on. Mama will save you." My hands trembled as I realized how less the weight my words carried at the moment.

I walked like a ghost as I grabbed my phone, booked a cab and rushed Leo to his regular hospital. The drive was a complete blur, with my hands holding Leo's firmly and whispering prayers.

My heart bled as the doctors took Leo into the emergency ward. Leo struggled for breath for a long time before the monitor finally became plane and the doctors looked at me with a pair of eyes, filled with sympathy and remorse.

"We are sorry. But—"

"No..." I cut them off, my legs shivering. I was not ready to face the harsh reality of my life. Leo, my son, he was all good a moment ago. He could not leave me.

"D-Do something, doctor. Please!" I cried, but I knew how silly it was. No one could bring Leo back. No one was going to call me Mamma again. No one.

I wept at the door of Leo's ward until my tears dried up, until my heart was hollowed out and I felt nothing. No remorse at all.

I walked inside. Leo lay on his sickbed, his eyes closed. I looked down at him, and for a split moment, I felt it was good he was gone. He would not have to suffer anymore.

He would not have to spend his life waiting for Harry just to look at him, the way he looked at Jake.

Harry never liked Leo, and he put no effort into hiding his disdain for him.

"Jake is fit and healthy, unlike you, sickly and weak."

"Jake praises all the cakes I bake for him, unlike you who has to feed sugar-free, ruining my recipe."

"I can't always check your sugar level in the trip. You stay at home. I'm taking Jake with me."

Every time, I watched my son shed silent tears from getting humiliated by his own father, my heart bled.

But, it wouldn't anymore. Leo was gone. For good. No one could hurt him anymore. Not even Harry.

"You will be happy watching our son like this, Harry," I whispered, stroking Leo's hair for the last time. "He will not irritate you anymore."

Harry had always disdained Leo for being 'sick'. As if it was his fault to be diagnosed with diabetes at such a young age.

But, the reason why Leo was born diabetic was Harry himself, and part of me for being too blind in his love.

I still remember the day I was working as a waitress in the five star restaurant of our city when a millionaire had booked the whole table, decorated the whole restaurant with red and black balloons.

Not just that, he barged in the restaurant's kitchen and prepared a cake himself– to propose his girlfriend.

But, the moment that should have come out romantic and pleasing turned into humiliation and joke as he played the voice message of his girlfriend.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I find my love in Jayden. We are shifting to my London's apartment that you gifted me last year."

"Thanks for being with me all these years. You will always be in my heart just like a good old friend."

The world tilted for him, for us as well. That's when I stepped up. I watched the cake I had seen him preparing with utmost love and care.

"If you don't mind, Sir, can I keep this cake?" I asked,

"Why?" He looked up at me, his eyes filled with surprise. He, for sure, had not expected this. I should have been whispering and snickering like all the other waitress.

But, here I was, showing no remorse at all.

"You are definitely going to dump this cake, and I can't bear the thought of such a beautiful cake to be dump. Why not letting me eat then?" I said, I was a foodie back then.

I saw his pupils shrieking for a moment before he finally said, "Fine, take it."

I didn't mind people's eyes at me. I simply sat before him and ate the cake while he kept watching me until I finished the cake.

Only then did he ask, "What's your name?"

"Darcy..." I said.

That's how we met and soon get married. He loved making cakes and cookies for me and I appreciated his gesture.

Even when I was pregnant and doctor's adviced to reduce sugar intake, he didn't stop.

And, watching him putting so much effort in preparing those sweets for me, I didn't have the heart to refuse him.

I always thought he loved making cakes for me because it reminded him the day we first met which made everything romantic and memorable.

It was only when his first love returned to his life that I realise he never made those cakes for me in the memories of our first meeting, but because Claire loved cakes and cookies.

He even had courses just to make cakes for Claire himself. He just made those cakes for me because he was used to doing those stuff for Claire.

And, I was just a substitute for him to fill his empty heart, someone who could distract his mind until his true love comes back to him, a tool to keep himself busy.

Every "I love you" Harry had whispered felt like a counterfeit coin. Every late-night tray of cookies he brought to my bedside during my third trimester, a slow poison for my son—the sweets that had spiked my blood sugar and likely triggered Leo’s condition—wasn't a gesture of care for me. It was a rehearsal for a woman who wasn't there.

I stroked Leo's hair for one last time before I finally let him go.

I rushed back home to prepare for Leo's funeral, my mind still racing through the past five years.

When I arrived home, Harry was having breakfast with Claire and Jake.

Claire sat before him and Jake in between them. Harry was peeling an apple for Jake while Claire was wiping off his lips. A picture perfect family portrait.

I ignored them and walked past the dining hall. However, my legs paused in mid-stride as Harry's voice echoed through my ears.

"How is that lad doing?"

He finally asked, after abandoning him for his mistress's son.

My hands were clenched, eyes turned red in rage as I turned back, "What do you think would have come out of our son after you abandoned him, Harry?"

"Stop being so dramatic and just tell me how is he doing." He spat, "Do you think it's only you who cares about him?"

"So, you care?" I smirked as I walked closer to him. "If you really cared about him, you wouldn't have been here enjoying your breakfast while you son breathed his last."

Harry froze at his place. His face paled as he stared me in disbelief,"Wh-What did you say?"

The tears that I had barely suppressed a moment ago, streamed down my cheeks as I declared."My son, Leo... He is gone, Harry."