"Barry, come to me."

My mother tries her best to stretch out her arms on the hospital bed with joy glistening in her eyes. She holds Barry's hand tightly, unwilling to let go. "I always know you are a good boy. I feel much better the moment I see you..."

She is so attentive to the conversation with Barry that she even doesn't glance at me, who has been silently standing by her side.

My mother is talking sincerely to Barry with great concern, while his impatience is apparently written on his face.

However, my mother acts as if she doesn't notice and tells me without turning her head, "Go and prepare a cup of coffee for Barry."

I lean against the door and pretend not to hear it. My mother snapped, "Why do you not listen to me at all? So this is how you serve your man?"

Barry gives me a sarcastic look and says, "How dare I let her serve me?"

He withdraws his arm mercilessly and continues, "Alright, I still have things to do in the company."

"Okay, don't let me keep you," My mother responds quickly, "Don't worry about me. I feel much better after drinking the coffee you gave me last time."

Hearing this, I can hardly restrain my laughter, but my smiling eyes soon become misty.

During these three years, every time she had a flare-up of her illness, I took care of her by her bedside day and night in every possible way even when she was incontinent. My arms were covered with bloody scratches from her.

By contrast, Barry would only come and see Mom with apparent unwillingness on his face once a month even if I urged him.

I've done so much for my mother, yet she seems to notice nothing and never cares about me. However, she has been praising Barry for the coffee, a giveaway that Barry casually regifted to her a year ago.

Even when she was suffering from cancer pain, she would repeat Barry's name over and over again in unconsciousness, burning my heart in a painful way.

There are moments that I truly wish Barry was her son, for I would feel the whole thing is much fairer in this way.

Unfortunately, it's just my unrealistic fantasy.

When my mother abnormally compelled me to marry Barry and lavished most of her attention on him, I did a maternity test, which verified that Barry had no blood ties with my mother or me.

The ardent smile on my mother's face soon fades after Barry left the hospital. Seeing her cover her chest with several coughs, I habitually hand her a glass of warm water and help her drink it.

"Shania."

Mom grabs my wrist and fixes her eyes on my face, afraid to miss a single change in my expression. "You and Barry have been married for three years, but why do you still have no child?"

I say with indifference on my face, "Mom, I can't get pregnant by myself."

She is silent for a while before she says firmly as if she has made a great decision, "I will go and tell Barry that I don't have much time left, so you must have a child right away.

"I've already prepared a name for the child, no matter if it is a boy or a girl, the child's name will be Danis Field."

I pause for a moment before I put the glass on the bedside table, pretending nothing has happened. I ask her with a smile, "Mom, are you kidding? If the child's surname is Field, then who will inherit our Harman Group?"

"A child surnamed Field is still your child, so why can't he inherit the Harman Group?" My mother's face suddenly darkens. She looks at me unhappily and retorts, "How can a child take his mother's surname? Do you want him to grow up and be taunted by others because of his surname?"

"No one will laugh at him for this." The smile on my lips gradually turns cold as my heart becomes as cold as ice.

"Mom, Harman Group was founded by Dad. I will never hand it over to an outsider. You should give up on this idea."

"You, you unruly girl!" My mother rages as her lips quiver. She throws the cup to the ground vigorously, coughing violently with her hand on her chest. I subconsciously want to reach out to support her, however, she unexpectedly raises her hand and slaps me heavily across the face.

I've been slapped twice in just one day. I rub my numb face, no longer able to smile at all.

"The child's surname must be Field!"

My mother screams at me at the top of her lungs. She's nothing but skin and bones trembling violently like a blower. "I'm dying, yet you are still angering me this way! You want me to die sooner, don't you?

"Barry has endured so much contempt for being the matrilocal son-in-law of our family. We owe him so much! Not to mention the Harman Group, you and I can even die for him to repay him!"

I feel it so unfair that I can't help but burst out laughing, "Mom, you know what? Barry and Jessica Holmes have got back together. They just kissed in my presence.

"He's been treating me like this, yet you still ask me to die for him?"

"No man doesn't cheat!" Mom interrupts me with impatience, "Just turn a blind eye to it, and time will mend. Do you have to make such a fuss about it?

"Anyway, I don't care! The child must have Barry's last name, otherwise, otherwise..." She resorts to the same trick she used to coerce me into marriage. "Otherwise, I won't live!"

I watch her go mad for the sake of Barry. The gentle and elegant woman in my memory fades away and finally turns into an illusory bubble that bursts at the slightest touch.

I can't believe my mother has become like this.

My beloved mother.

"Alright." I stifle my bad feelings and nod in agreement. "I'll listen to you, Mom. The child's surname will be Field."

My mother knows I'm a woman of my word, so I can tell that she is visibly relieved the instant she hears my promise.

I turn and walk out of the door to see my mom's personal doctor.

"How long will she live?"

"At least half a month, but not longer than one month," says the doctor.

It's already a miracle that my mother has lived until now. I've done everything I could to prolong her life, which has also cost me tens of millions of dollars.

This time, instead of eagerly asking the doctor to buy more time for Mom as I did before, I close my eyes and watch the dead leaves swirling and falling with a faint rustle outside the window.

I utter lightly, "Let her have a comfortable death with dignity."