Jenson reacted far quicker than I did.

He rushed over and took Lauren's hand warmly. "Lauren, you're here. I missed you so much."

Lauren just smiled, saying nothing as Jenson took control of her wheelchair and pushed her inside as if I wasn't even there.

I was shocked.

"William, don't you owe me an explanation?" I asked.

He frowned in annoyance. "Lauren's husband has passed away. She lost my child when she was young, and now she can't have children because of it. This is my debt to her. Taking care of her in her old age is my responsibility."

Tears sprang to my eyes.

"Lauren is your responsibility? Then what about me?" I asked.

What had I been to him all these years?

Seeing my tears, William looked startled, almost panicked.

He reached out to wipe them away, but before he could touch me, Lauren's voice floated from behind him.

"William, does Kristen not want me here?" she said.

Lauren wheeled herself closer, her voice as gentle as ever. "I know it's bad luck, me coming here so soon after my husband's death, but I have nowhere else to go."

Though her words were directed at me, her eyes were on William.

She looked so pitiful. I'd never been the kind to act coy. Maybe that was why, after all these years, William had never let her go.

Seeing her fragile expression, William was quick to react. He brushed past me to comfort her, holding her hand tightly. "No, you're overthinking.

"This is your home now. No one's going to make you leave."

Then he wheeled her into the living room.

Reyna, ever the attentive woman, had already set another place at the table. My grandson looked at the new arrival curiously.

For the first time, I questioned everything I'd held onto for 30 years.

William, Jenson, Reyna, and my grandson...

The people closest to me now felt like strangers.

I felt like an outsider. I had been serving them as a servant.

William had made his decision. Lauren would stay.

He'd even given her the room next to ours.

After cleaning up the mess left behind from dinner, I dragged my body back to our bedroom.

But when I walked in, I saw William sitting at the desk, holding something.

"What took you so long?" he asked with a frown.

He didn't look happy.

He had never done any household chores, so he had no idea how long and tiring it could be.

I ignored him, walking past him with my aching back and stiff joints.

Years of taking care of this family hadn't earned me much, but they had certainly left their mark on my body.

Seeing my pale face and my hunched posture, he frowned and suggested I take a bath to relax.

I nodded weakly and headed straight for the bathroom.

When I came out, he was still sitting there, the box now open on the table.

"I picked this up while I was away," he said, lifting his chin.

He opened the box to reveal a beautifully crafted fan.

It was adorned with delicate orchids. It was elegant and sophisticated, just like the things he liked.

I barely glanced at it, toweling off my hair and heading straight for the bed.

Though William was just a university professor, he was always busy.

Since becoming a tenured professor, he had been away at least five days a week.

This was the first time he'd ever brought me a gift from his travels.

But I didn't care for such things. I wasn't cultured. I didn't pretend to be refined. And he had never missed an opportunity to remind me of that.

But I always shot back confidently, "I'm the one who puts food on the table and clothes on your back."

Tonight, I felt a strange, crushing sense of powerlessness.

I didn't feel like saying anything at all.

William, displeased by my indifference, closed the fan and glared at me. "Can you stop being so unreasonable?

"I've already explained everything. This is my responsibility. There's no way around it. Why can't you just be more understanding?"

I quietly packed my things.

"Kristen, don't ignore me. You can't just avoid this. You know that's not right," he said.

"Of course, I can," I said, cutting him off.

He was surprised and then smiled.

But before he could say another word, I grabbed my bags and stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

If this was the responsibility he chose, so be it.

I chose to be done.

That evening, I went to Jenson's house.

Jenson, who was about to go to bed, looked bewildered when he saw me standing at his door with my suitcase in hand.

After I explained why I was there, his confusion quickly turned to frustration. "Mom, you're being petty. Dad took me to Lauren's tutoring classes for ten years, and she never charged us a dime. She treats me like her own son. You're always nagging me, but she never does."

He paused and added, "And come on, you guys are way too old to be acting like some young couple having a fight and storming out. Aren't you embarrassed?"

His words left me frozen for a moment.

It took all my effort to make sense of the situation.

"Classes? What classes?" I asked.

William used to tell me that Jenson's tutors were young girls from school.

I stared at him, hoping for some sort of explanation.

Realizing he'd said too much, Jenson quickly clamped his mouth shut and tried to usher me back to the door. "Mom, let me just take you home. Dad has work tomorrow, and he can't function without you around."

"I'm not going back until you tell me what's going on. What classes? What's this really about?" I demanded.

I took off his hand and stared at him.

Jenson hesitated before finally giving in.

He revealed, "When I was little, Dad arranged for Lauren to work as a librarian at the university. She's been tutoring me in all my subjects since elementary school.

"Don't be mad at Dad. You don't know much about these things. He didn't want me to struggle, so he had me study with Lauren instead."

So, that was it.

All these years, not only had William been sending money to Lauren every month, but he also had her working under his nose and even let her help raise Jenson.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

I looked at Jenson, tears welling up. He was no longer the son I thought I knew.

He had helped William keep the secret from me.

Seeing my distress, he fidgeted, unsure of what to say.

I couldn't stay there any longer.

Picking up my suitcase, I left quietly and walked home by myself.

When I got back, the door to the study was slightly open, light spilling into the hallway. I could hear William and Lauren laughing together inside.

I leaned against the wall, trying to steady myself.

I thought that maybe it was time to let him go and set myself free.

The next morning, for the first time in years, I didn't wake up early to make breakfast.

Lauren knocked on my door, holding a small pot with a pitiful expression.

"Kristen, how do you use this pot? William doesn't like the school's breakfast, and since you didn't get up, I guess I'll have to cook for him," she said.

I crossed my arms and studied her face.

Lauren hadn't aged much. There wasn't a hint of weight gain on her slender frame.

In her youth, she had been part of the city's dance troupe, and more than a few men had fallen for her. Even now, sitting in a wheelchair due to her chemotherapy treatments, her beauty was hard to overlook.

Everyone was right. Thirty years ago, it must've been a huge loss for William not to marry her.

I let out a soft laugh, tears welling in my eyes.

"Lauren, why don't I help you fulfill the dream you couldn't achieve 30 years ago?" I said.

Her face paled instantly at my words.

She stammered, "Kristen, it's not what you think between William and me. We don't have that kind of relationship anymore."

I asked, "What is it that I'm thinking, exactly?"

"It's..." Lauren shook her head, about to say something else, but her gaze shifted to a corner of the room.

She suddenly went silent, trying to pull herself up and reach for me. Instinctively, I stepped back, and she lost her balance, crashing to the floor along with the pot.

"Kristen. If you have a problem, take it out on me. Why are you going after a sick woman?" William snapped.

I didn't even realize when William had appeared beside me.

His face was ice cold as he rushed to Lauren's side, cradling her in his arms.

Such a scene was all too familiar.

It was how he had treated me when we first met.

But now, with Lauren wrapped in his embrace, he turned and pointed at me. "Are you done throwing your tantrum yet? If you keep this up, we're not going to be able to live like this anymore."

"Then let's end this," I shot back.

My voice was sarcastic as I continued, "William, let's get a divorce."