She Let Our Son Die for Her Lover

On the way to his college entrance exam, the son unexpectedly saw his mother and his childhood friend locked in a passionate embrace inside a Land Rover.

The car was shaking, their silhouettes intertwined. Rage surged through him. Without thinking, he picked up a brick and smashed the window.

Fuming, he yanked the door open and confronted his mother. "Why are you doing this to Dad?" he shouted.

Before he could get an answer, he was slapped—twice—by his mother’s lover.

His sudden appearance had startled them, and his mother’s frustration boiled over.

"Get out of here! Do you want the whole world to see your mother like this?" she snapped.

She slammed the car door shut, catching the hem of her son’s coat.

Without a word, the childhood friend hit the gas. The car surged forward, dragging the son behind it for hundreds of meters.

His ribs shattered. Blood poured from his mouth as he screamed for help, but the car never stopped or turned around.

When I got the call from the hospital, it felt like lightning struck my chest.

I rushed over, only to find out I was too late.

My boy—my only son—was already gone.

——

I held his bloodied body in my arms, unable to breathe through my sobs.

Tears fell endlessly, like pearls from a broken string.

I took his broken, battered hands and pressed them against my face.

"Son, wake up! Look at your father!" I cried.

"How can you just leave me like this?"

That morning, he smiled so brightly.

"Dad, after the exam, let’s go fishing, okay?" he had said.

I couldn’t accept the truth. Anguish swallowed me. I coughed up blood and collapsed.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. They had already moved my son’s body to the morgue.

I didn’t bother with shoes. I ran barefoot all the way there, heart pounding.

But nothing prepared me for what I saw.

There, outside the morgue, my wife and Victor Morgan—my son’s childhood friend—were in each other’s arms.

A doctor was questioning him.

“I was having an affair with her,” Victor confessed. “I didn’t expect her son to suddenly show up. I panicked…”

I stood frozen, anger consuming me.

Grief is still raw, now layered with betrayal.

As they pulled apart, I lunged. I punched Victor hard in the face.

The hallway erupted into chaos. My wife covered herself with one hand and clung to me with the other.

"Daniel Carter, stop it! Are you crazy?" she yelled.

My eyes burned red. I grabbed Victor by the throat, lifting him off his feet.

That’s when my wife grabbed a pen from the nurse’s table and stabbed it into my wrist.

"Snap out of it!" she shouted. "Everyone already knows!"

"You two make me sick!" I roared. "If it weren’t for him, would you and Victor be like this?"

I yanked my hand free and grabbed her.

"What did you just say? What did you mean by that?"

Did my son really die because he discovered their affair?

The thought tore through me. My chest tightened until I could barely breathe.

Before she could respond, Victor—his face bruised—began crying.

"I’m sorry, Daniel," he choked. "Isabelle and I... We were drunk and made a mistake."

Drunk? That early in the morning? Who did they think they were fooling?

Cheating is cheating.

Isabelle Carter shoved me aside.

"Move, look at yourself—what a pitiful sight," she sneered.

"Your wife looked for another man, maybe ask yourself why."

She turned to Victor. "Victor, we don’t need to explain anything to him."

She helped him up, her hand gently wiping away his tears.

My heart shattered again—not just from grief, but from betrayal.

How did everything fall apart in a single day?