Jordan was "still young"? He was already eight, which made him a year older than Carl! Being a child was definitely not an excuse for him to snatch other people's things!

But judging by Andrew's logic, Jordan was allowed to snatch Carl's watch when his own broke since he was still a child. Since his parents were divorced, he was also allowed to snatch someone else's father.

What about Carl, then?

Infuriated, I stared at the utterly shameless Andrew, ready to get into a shouting match with him.

However, Carl suddenly tugged at the hem of my shirt while shaking his head.

I knew he was an understanding kid, and he always worried about Andrew harming me. That was why whenever Andrew and I argued, Carl would pull at the hem of my shirt.

Regardless, it was different this time. I could see the clear disappointment in Carl's gaze toward Andrew, which made me pause.

While I was distracted, Andrew quickly seized the watch box and said in half-hearted concern, "I'm leaving. Take care of yourselves."

With that, he turned and left, accidentally bumping into the Lego tower that Carl had painstakingly built.

The tower crumbled, the broken pieces scattering across the floor. They resembled both my and Carl's shattered hearts.

Andrew didn't care about this home or about either of us.

In that case, I refused to plead for him to stay anymore. Instead, I focused on wiping away the tears clinging to Carl's lashes carefully.

However, right before Andrew stepped out of the villa, Carl handed him the bottle containing the candy wrappers.

Immediately understanding his intention, I spoke up on Carl's behalf. "Carl has already collected 100 candy wrappers. You can count them yourself."

Andrew paused in his tracks before turning to shoot us an astonished look. "Has he already gathered that many?"

"Yes."

Upon hearing that, he set down the things he was holding, a conflicted expression crossing his face.

Neither Carl nor I spoke. We merely waited for his answer.

As we expected, Andrew simply hesitated briefly before uttering, "Jenny and Jordan need someone with them right now, so…"

A hint of guilt flickered in his eyes. Nonetheless, he still crouched down to pat Carl's head and say, "Carl, let's forget about the promise I made with you, okay?"

I gently patted Carl on the shoulder, watching as he lowered his gaze and nodded.

Andrew was stunned. For a split second, he found it hard to believe that Carl actually agreed to his request so easily.

Then, he swept Carl into a tight hug and exclaimed, "Carl, I knew you were the most understanding kid around! Don't worry. Once Jordan has settled down, I'll spend time with you."

Carl didn't respond, not even with a nod. He simply turned and walked back to the living room alone. Grabbing a piece of paper, he scribbled out, "Daddy, I don't want you to come back anymore, but could you return my voice to me?"

By the time he finished writing the note, Andrew was already gone.

After reading the words, I wrapped my arms around Carl, my tears already streaming down my cheeks. At the same time, I kept murmuring assurances to him.

"It's okay. You still have me. I'll always be by your side."

I felt his tiny hand wipe away my tears, even as he forced himself to smile in an effort to comfort me back.

At that moment, I recalled what the doctor had said about Carl's mutism. It was a form of self-punishment, as Carl thought that he had made a serious mistake.

When I heard this explanation at the time, I felt as though someone had cut my heart deeply with a blade.

My son simply wanted his father to come home. What did he do wrong? Why did he have to go through such punishment?

In any case, we wouldn't cry anymore. There was no need for us to feel sad about Andrew's departure, nor would we hold out hope for his return.

After that day, it was like Carl and I had an unspoken agreement. We never brought up Andrew again, as though he had never even existed in this home.

I also bought us tickets to leave the country in three days. Once that time came, we would leave this place behind.

Carl was incredibly cooperative with his treatments, so he was now able to produce at least some sounds, though not actual words yet.

…

I was in the middle of drafting a divorce agreement when Andrew came back once more.

As usual, Carl was playing with his Lego bricks in the living room. Despite the appearance of the father he hadn't seen in a long time, there was not a hint of joy in his eyes.

Instead, he continued to play by himself quietly.

I didn't know what Andrew was up to this time, but he approached Carl with a pastry box in hand.

"Carl, I bought you some cake. Would you like to try some?"

It seemed like Andrew was trying to get in Carl's good books. However, after glancing at the pastry box, Carl simply continued to play with his Lego bricks.

Immediately, Andrew's expression darkened, and he turned to blame me. "Just what have you been teaching the kid? He didn't even greet me when I came in!

"Not only that, but now he's ignoring me and won't even speak! Is he a mute?"

Worried that his usage of the word "mute" would hurt Carl's feelings, I closed the lid of my laptop and got ready to run over to protect him.

However, before I could stand up, Andrew, in a rare show of conscience, realized that he had been wrong to say that. He crouched down to apologize to Carl.

"I'm sorry."

He was about to speak up again, but then his attention was caught by something on the nearby coffee table. It was the bottle filled with candy wrappers and the note pinned underneath it.

A throb of pain shot through his heart, as though an invisible hand was squeezing it.

Just as he was about to pull the note out and read it, the ringtone he used specifically for Jennifer's number blared loudly.

Staring at Carl's back, he hesitated briefly. Nonetheless, he still ended up answering his phone.

"Hello? Jenny, what's wrong with Jordan? Don't panic. I'll be right over."

The moment Andrew heard that something had happened with Jennifer and Jordan, he anxiously set down everything he held before dashing for the front door.

Right before he stepped out, he abruptly stopped, which was something he had never done before. He turned to glance back at Carl.

"Carl, remember to eat the cake, okay? I'll be back before you know it."

This time, however, Carl was no longer heartbroken to see his father leave. He also did not bother to respond to Andrew's words. Once Andrew had left, Carl tossed the cake in the trash.

…

The day before our flight out of the country, I took Carl to the hospital for a check-up.

The doctor informed me that Carl was recovering nicely. Combined with the advanced treatment methods he would receive overseas, he might recover even further.

Thanking the doctor, I left with Carl happily.

…

Meanwhile, in the consultation room next door, another doctor was speaking to Andrew and Jennifer in an impatient tone.

"What is it this time? I already told you that your son is very healthy and that there's nothing wrong with him. He's just deliberately pretending to be sick because his father left."

Frowning, the doctor then turned to Andrew. "Let me cut to the chase. I think you're a terrible father. Why can't you just spend more time with your kid? Why are you always away from home?"

Andrew's face flushed red at the rebuke.

He was already spending most of his time with Jennifer and Jordan, yet somehow, that still wasn't enough to the doctor. In that case, what sort of father and husband could he be to Carl and me, whom he had neglected all this time?

That made him pause, causing him to be lost in his thoughts as he exited the consultation room. Just as he was about to call me and ask how we were doing, his fingers suddenly brushed against a piece of candy in his pocket.

Most likely, this was the piece of candy that he had forgotten to give to Carl before he left previously.

It was as though a bomb had gone off in his mind. He abruptly recalled the glass bottle back home, filled to the brim with 100 candy wrappers.

Andrew had already let Carl down that many times, or maybe even more. Just how disappointed must Carl be with him?

Anxiety rose in him at the realization. He hurriedly dialed my number, but the call refused to go through.

Just then, he happened to turn his head and spotted Carl and me walking down the corridor. He chased after us, wanting to stop us, but we had already stepped into the elevator.

In the next second, we vanished from his sight.

Subsequently, Andrew charged back down the corridor and burst into the consultation room we had been in earlier to ask the doctor.

"Doctor, what illness does the kid who just left have?"

The doctor stared at Andrew, shocked at the sudden intrusion.

When the doctor didn't reply, Andrew hastily explained, "I-I'm the child's…"

Perhaps worried about Jennifer and Jordan overhearing him next door, he changed his choice of words at the last minute. "I'm the child's relative…"

Letting out an "oh", the doctor then shot him a sympathetic look.

"That child sure is pitiful. He's still so young, yet he's already suffering from mutism. It's all due to the trauma of his father abandoning him on the highway. If you know his father, please tell him to stop doing such heartless things, or he truly will ruin the child's entire life!"

"What?"

Andrew's mind went blank, and his ears rang loudly. He couldn't stop himself from stumbling back a few steps before slumping to the floor.