On the day I worked overtime, my four-year-old son had a high fever, and my husband James Wilson agreed to take him to the hospital.

Half an hour later, James suddenly called me and said he had something important, leaving our son at home.

I finally asked for a leave, but when I rushed home, my son was unconscious.

My son died after unsuccessful medical treatment, but I couldn't get in touch with James.

At a loss and helpless, I saw Emily White, James' senior female schoolmate, posted a Facebook.

[Although I am a single mother, my daughter will always be loved.]

There was a photo of James and her celebrating a little girl's birthday together.

I was so angry that I sent James a message to question him: [You abandoned your sick son to spend the birthday with someone else's child?]

I got James' reply after I had cremated my son.

[Our son just had a minor illness, but Emily's daughter has lost her father. She needs my love more.]

1

[James, let's get a divorce.]

After sending this message, I blocked James. Putting my son’s urn on the cabinet, I started packing up.

James and I grew up together and had a friendship for thirty years. I had loved him since I was young, and I admitted that I still loved him, but the one he loved from the beginning to the end was not me.

Since we were young, our parents decided on our marriage, thinking we were going to get married when we grew up, so I had always regarded myself as his wife and followed him from a young age.

James was very handsome. When we were teenagers, many girls secretly wrote love letters to him. I threw all of them into the trash can because I thought I was the one who would marry him.

At that time, James never denied it, but he also didn't acknowledge my identity.

When I told him that someone bullied me, he just said to me calmly, "If you didn't provoke them, would they bully you?"

I had a very difficult time during that period, and I even wanted to stop loving him.

Although James said he didn't care about me, when I was in danger, he suddenly showed up. I even saw anxiety in his eyes that day, so I thought he cared about me a little.

After that matter, I regarded him as the light that saved me, so I went to the same university as him and studied the same major as him.

Many boys pursued me during those years, but I always felt that they were not as good as James.

I loved James unconditionally. Until our son died, I realized that he didn't love me at all.

James had always loved Emily. My grades were not good back then, so I repeated a year. When I went to find him, he already had someone he loved.

But he didn't tell me at that time.

I still remembered the scene when James confessed his love to Emily under the tree. They were well-matched that day.

He didn't mention me at all.

Three days later, he congratulated me on being admitted to Stanford University and wished me a good future.

That semester, I didn't tell anyone that I knew James.

Later, Emily went abroad and got married, so they were forced to break up. James called me in the middle of the night and cried sadly.

He began to study hard and seemed to have forgotten about Emily. During the winter vacation that year, he asked me, "Alice, are you willing to be with me?"

Of course, I was willing to be with him because I had loved him for so many years. I didn’t even think about it deeply and was moved into tears.

We got married a year after graduating from college.

That was the happiest time of my life, but not long after, I saw Emily's Facebook: [I’m back home. The person I love most is here.]

James came back very late that night, with lipstick marks on his shirt.

I didn't dare to ask anything, because I was afraid that I would lose my husband and my son would lose his father.

But because of my stupidity, I lost my son.

He was only four years old. I couldn't accept this fact.

I carefully placed his ashes in his grave and sat there for a long time. I was afraid that he would be scared if I left too early.

When I walked out of the cemetery, I saw James with Emily.

Seeing me, he was stunned. Then he showed sarcasm on his face. "Alice, you said you wanted to divorce me, but you came here to chase me. Emily is right. You are just playing hard to get."

I noticed that Emily was holding an urn in her hands. She was touching the urn with a look of reluctance while James was supporting her and looked very sad.

I found it ironic.

It seemed that Emily thought I wasn't annoyed enough, and she touched the urn provocatively. "Alice, please don't mind it. My daughter's cat was knocked over on her birthday, and she was very sad. So please don't blame James. After all, my daughter and I can only rely on him now."

Hearing what she said, James said gently, "Don't say that. I've told you. As long as you and your daughter need me, I can always be her father."

Looking at their affectionate expressions, I said, "Then I wish you happy."

Then I turned around and was about to leave, but James was angry. "Emily is very sad because of the cat's matter. Why are you so rude?"

"Alice, you think too much. If I wanted to be with James, we would have been together a long time ago. You don't need to care so much."

Looking at Emily, who had a smug look, I didn't want to say anything more and turned away.

But before I drove out of the cemetery, I received a call from the manager. "Ms. Clarke, someone is digging up the cemetery you just bought."

Stunned, I hurried back.

But it was too late. Emily had already put the urn she took inside.

My son's urn was thrown in the soil nearby. The lid was a little crooked and some of his ashes had spilled out.

I rushed over like crazy and pushed Emily down.

She screamed, "Alice, are you crazy? I know you are jealous of me because I have a good relationship with James, but why did you attack me..."

Before she finished her words, I took out the cat's urn and threw it on the ground.

Then, I carefully picked up the scattered ashes of my son on the side and gently placed them into the box.

James rushed over and yelled at me, "Alice, are you crazy? Do you know that Emily's body is weak?"

I looked at James, who was still complaining, and yelled at him like crazy, "James, get out! You two are disgusting..."

I ignored him and continued to pick up the ashes.

James had never been so embarrassed by me before, and he said in a more impatient tone, "I've signed up for a parent-child tour abroad, and I will accompany you on the trip. If you make a fuss like this, I'll cancel this activity."

"James, I don't care about the parent-child trip at all. Just go away and be someone else's father!" Tired of his arrogant behavior, I mocked him.

Emily wanted to say something, but James got angry first.

He couldn't stand my ridicule, so he took out his phone and said to the other side, "Cancel my parent-child tour. Alice is an ungrateful woman. If my son knows that the trip is canceled because of her, he will blame her."

Hearing James' words, his assistant was silent for a moment, and then said in a hoarse voice, "Mr. Wilson, your son has passed away."

"What nonsense are you talking about?" James asked loudly.

How could his son die? However, his assistant didn't give him a chance to quibble, and he even added fuel to the fire.

"It's true. The grave you and Ms. White dug is the grave of your son."