After a long time, I opened the door and found Patrick standing there, his face showing a hurt expression.

"Honey, the oatmeal is ready and has cooled down. It's just right to eat now."

He stared at me expectantly. Speechless, I walked past him into the kitchen, fetched a bowl of oatmeal, and carried it into the bedroom to feed Harry.

"Honey, can you not treat me like this? You can hit me and scold me, but please don't ignore me."

"Patrick, I always believed you were responsible, but so far, you only asked for my forgiveness. Do you have anything else to say?"

"Yes. I'll explain everything to you. I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

I sneered, "I'm not interested in your affair."

Despite countless doubts in my mind, I was reluctant to give him a chance to explain.

Explanation would mean forgiveness, but I couldn't forgive him.

He could do whatever he pleased. Why couldn't I?

Patrick froze in place, sighing dejectedly.

Harry put his arms around my neck and leaned on my shoulder.

"Mommy, the teacher told us that if someone is aware of his mistakes and corrects them, he is still a good boy. What about Daddy? Is he still a good dad?"

I rubbed Harry's head, forced a smile, and said, "Maybe he will be a good dad, but he will no longer be a good husband. Harry, you are too young to understand these things. You just need to know that we will always love you."

It was already nine o'clock in the evening when I lulled him to sleep. Patrick tried turning the doorknob multiple times, but the door remained closed because I had locked it from the inside.

His footsteps gradually faded away. Exhausted, I lay deflated on the bed, feeling as though all my strength had been drained from me, unwilling to move.

​It was destined to be a sleepless night.​

The next morning, Patrick knocked on the door.

"Honey, Harry, it's time to get up and go to school. I have made breakfast for you."

Patrick was still in yesterday's clothes, clearly having stayed up all night.

Meeting my gaze, he smiled awkwardly, "Honey, I'm not very good at cooking, and it's a bit burnt. You'll have to make do with it."

I remained expressionless and took Harry to the bathroom to wash up. Patrick followed and added attentively, "After breakfast, I'll take Harry to kindergarten."

With a long face, Harry pouted and said discontentedly, "I'll catch the school bus at the entrance of the residential complex. You don't need to take me there. The kindergarten doesn't serve burnt breakfast anyway."

Patrick was choked and stood there in a daze.

In the past, to ensure he could work without worry, I handled everything for Harry on my own.

Patrick's sole responsibility was to dedicate time to accompanying him and guiding him in forming correct views on the world, life, and values.

After quickly washing up, I put a small schoolbag on Harry's back and prepared to go out.

Patrick suddenly said, "Honey, can we have a talk?"

"Sure. Let's meet at 10 a.m. at Oasis Café."

Patrick nodded repeatedly. "Okay, I will arrive on time."

After sending Harry to school, I drove to the bakery. The enticing aroma momentarily eased my worries.

Two shop assistants who were stocking the goods came over.

"Ms. Murphy, you haven't been here for a few days. We thought perhaps you were prioritizing your family over the bakery now."

I smiled wryly, stepped aside, and grabbed a donut.

I took a bite, and my mouth was full of bitterness.

As more customers arrived, the shop assistants grew increasingly busy. I pitched in to pack the food, but they complained that I was too slow.

​It felt like I never seemed to fit in anywhere I went.​

"Ms. Murphy, please go home and take a nap. You are really not needed here."

I shrugged, exited the bakery, and prepared to head to the café.

I arrived half an hour early and ordered a latte to wake myself up.

I tried to avoid thinking about anything else, but my mind kept replaying everything about Rachel.

A month ago, Patrick brought her home for the first time. She liked Harry very much and kept praising him for his intelligence and talent when teaching him to play the piano.

I took the time to send a fruit platter to the piano room. She had been beaming with joy, but when she saw me, her face unusually darkened.

I assumed people who studied piano were quite aloof. However, in addition to showing undisguised love for Harry, she also seemed very close to Patrick.

But I never suspected him.

Because apart from taking her home on the first day, he never paid attention to her again.

He frequently expressed to me his discomfort about the sudden addition of a woman to the family and his decision to dismiss her after just a month.

When Rachel was at home, Patrick would openly show affection toward me, like kissing my forehead and giving me shoulder and back massages.

At that moment, she would lower her head with a sad look on her face.

It gave me the illusion that, as a piano teacher, she came here full of enthusiasm and departed disappointed.

Now, I suddenly understood why Patrick was easy-going with everyone except her. Perhaps he was avenging himself for being abandoned.

He had various ways to humiliate her and take revenge on her, but why did he use me and Harry as stepping stones to his goal?

I became tense and involuntarily started breathing heavily. The shop assistant grasped my shoulders and gently shook me, snapping me back to reality. That was when I noticed it was already half past ten in the morning.

I called Patrick and heard him anxiously panting on the other end of the phone.

"Honey, I'm sorry. I broke the appointment. Harry... He..."

I instantly rose from my seat, and my voice became sharp unconsciously. "What happened to Harry?"

Patrick gritted his teeth and replied with suppressed anger, "He was taken away by Rachel."

"What?"

The news struck me like a thunderbolt, and my mind kept buzzing.

Why did Rachel take Harry away? What did she want to do?

"Patrick, if anything happens to Harry, I will never let you off!"