He and his mother, Patsy Fox—I was keeping them both.

“Mm-hm.” I nodded seriously.

“You got money? You think you can support a grown man? And you just want to take me home.”

“My husband's rich. I can spend his money to take care of you.”

“You want me to be your side piece?!”

I tilted my head and looked at him, thinking this kid had gotten knocked around so hard he couldn't even keep his words straight. His mother was the side piece. He wasn't.

Besides, I didn't mind Patsy's existence.

So I nodded again, just as seriously.

“Mm-hm. My husband is really, really rich. More money than he could ever spend. Come home with me.”

He stared at me for a long time, then spat out a single word：“Fuck.”

And let me pull him along as I walked out.

This kid was Fred Delgado, a top student at Kingsbridge University.

Good-looking, too. He'd inherited the best of both his parents.

His face still had marks from the thugs who'd roughed him up.

I was worried Edgar might see the bruises and assume I'd been the one mistreating his precious son.

So I took Fred to one of the villas under my name first and let him heal up there.

According to him:

His lousy excuse of a father—also known as my dear husband—had cut off every cent of his living expenses to force him to come home.

And every part-time job Fred managed to land, Edgar sabotaged.

Very much in keeping with my husband's usual style.

I looked at the cuts on that handsome face, and it hurt a little just seeing them. I reached over and stroked his hair.

“Poor thing. Once we go home, everything will be better.”

“Let me treat your cuts first.”

He was well-behaved, sitting on the sofa with his hands gripping his knees, a little stiff.

The iodine stung his wound and I leaned in without thinking to blow on it—but the more I blew, the redder his face got.

“Are you running a fever?”

I pressed my forehead against his to check his temperature.

“You're getting hotter and hotter. I'm taking you to the hospital.”

He shoved me away in a panic and bolted into the bathroom：“I'm fine.”

I knocked on the door：“You really don't need to go to the hospital?”

“No.”

“All right then.”

Kids these days. So stubborn. He was practically panting and still insisting he was fine.

I dissolved a fever reducer in water and watched him drink every drop before I felt at ease.

When I was about to leave, he seemed almost surprised：“You're just... leaving?”

“Mm. I'll come see you again tomorrow.”

At the door, I glanced back. He was standing alone in front of the sofa. Such a pitiful kid.

While he was recovering, I went to pick him up from class every day, afraid he'd get bullied again.

Also a good chance to build up some mother-son bonding.

Today was a day off. I took him to the mall and dragged him around the whole place—anything he so much as glanced at twice, I had it wrapped up.

Then I spent the whole day with him at an amusement park.

And while I was at it, I stood up for him. Every thug who'd laid a hand on him before ended up in a holding cell.

That evening on the way back, he asked me：“Why are you so good to me?”

“Because I want you to like me.”

Something flickered across Fred's face, surprise, and then the flush hit hard.

“That's your only wish?”

“Mm.”

A whole family, together, getting along, loving each other. That's the biggest wish a traditional wife could have.

He moved toward me, then pulled back.

After a few seconds of wrestling with himself, he suddenly brought his face close to mine.

So close I could feel the roughness of his breathing：“Then your wish just came true. I like you.”

I quietly stepped back：“'Sister'? I'm a traditional woman. Given the relationship between us, you should be calling me Mom.”

His eyes lit up, excitement practically spilling out of them.

“Wow, you really play it that wild.”

“Then can I kiss you?”

Since when did young people talk to their elders like this?

“I can't give you what you're asking for. But a mother can grant her son a request.”

“Can I kiss you? Mom.”

“Okay.”

I nodded.

A kiss landed softly on my forehead. Then my eyelids. Then my cheeks……

Hold on—wasn't that a few too many?

I knew he was happy with me as a stepmother.

But this was a little much.

At dinner that evening.

Edgar came downstairs with Patsy draped all over him.

I didn't say a word, just waited until he sat down before I started eating.

During the meal, they brought up Fred.

“That boy still hasn't come around?”

“Stubborn as ever.”

Patsy looked at me with open pride：“You have no idea how amazing our Fred is. Top of his class at Kingsbridge University, and he's got real backbone—won't touch his parents' money. Of course, being that proud can backfire sometimes, right?”

I thought of Fred swiping his card at the mall without blinking.

"Principled" was not the word that came to mind.

“He's young. It's normal.”

“You've never had children, so you wouldn't understand. Kids these days are little tyrants, impossible to manage. Honestly, I envy you. Not being able to have kids means you never have to deal with any of it.”

Unbidden, what surfaced in my mind was Fred's face—the way it always flushed red, and those wet, earnest eyes whenever he looked at me.

I thought they had the wrong idea about their own child.

Fred was perfectly well-behaved.

After more than a month of looking after him, there was no trace left of the beaten-down boy I'd first taken in. He practically glowed now, and he clung to me a little more each day.

I decided the timing was right.

Today, I would bring him home.

A family couldn't stay scattered forever.

That evening, I waited for Fred outside the school gates.

This time, two friends came out with him.

The moment Fred spotted me, he jogged over and took my hand.

His friends started in from behind：“No wonder you've been ditching my sister—you've been hiding someone like her this whole time.”

Fred frowned：“She's not your sister.”

His friend shook his head：“If I had someone this pretty and loaded looking out for me, I'd keep her hidden. No way I'd let you guys anywhere near her.”

I had no idea what they were going on about.

I looked up and caught Fred's gaze.

“Ready to go home?”

He didn't answer. The other boy jumped in：“Home? What's your deal with him exactly? Do I still have a shot?”

I glanced at Fred, unsure how to answer.

I was afraid that blurting out our relationship in front of his friends would put him in an awkward spot.

After all, the whole illegitimate-son thing seemed to bother him.

Fred slung his arm around my shoulders, looked down at me, and raised one brow：“She's my mom.”

I don't know why, but those two words from his mouth turned my knees to water.

Still, seeing that he wasn't ashamed of it put me at ease.

I cleared my throat and turned to his two friends：“Hi. I'm his mother. Please look after him for me.”

Then I took Fred's hand as naturally as breathing：“Come on. Your dad's been waiting for us.”

In the car.

He was quiet for a long time.

I noticed how he kept opening his mouth and stopping himself, so I asked：“What's wrong?”

He wasn't having second thoughts, was he?

“Nothing. Just… turns out I mistook you for someone else.”

“Hm?”

He turned to look at me, a quiet smile surfacing：“But that's not so bad either.”

“By the way, when you said you wanted to come home and see Dad, what did you mean?”

“Your dad misses you. Let's go back together.”

He froze for a second, then scratched his head：“Isn't that a little fast?”

“Not at all—he's been waiting a long time for this.”

The smile at the corner of Fred's mouth kept growing wider.

My heart finally settled.

See? He wanted to come home too.

It was their approach to the boy that had been all wrong.

Good thing they had me.

Otherwise this family would've fallen apart.

Walking into the villa with Fred at my side,

I felt a strange surge of pride.

Especially when I saw Edgar's eyes glistening with tears. That feeling swelled even more.

We traditional wives really can do anything.

“Fred? What are you doing here?”

“What's going on? Why did you bring me to Edgar's house?”

“Why are you with my son?”

Three faces stared at each other in open shock as I led Fred by the hand, right up to Edgar and Patsy.

“Honey, all that matters now is the four of us making this family work.”