Chapter 3

That evening, I spent four or five hours sweating over the stove preparing a seafood feast.

I waited and waited, but my son never came home. Finally, I dialed his number.

"Mom, I figured cooking seafood would be too much trouble for you, so I took Chloe's parents out to a nice restaurant. We'll be home soon. Just clean up the place and don't embarrass me."

Listening to the lively chatter in the background through the receiver, I stared at the full table of food, lost in thought.

How had my son turned into this? When he was little, he would make me birthday cards, massage my back, and wash my feet. How did he grow up to have no room in his heart for his own mother?

I didn't want the food to go to waste, so I left it on the table.

When my son walked in and saw it, he immediately started scolding me.

"Didn't I tell you to clean up? Who are you displaying all this food for? You're this old and you still don't know basic social courtesy."

Chloe clung to her mother's arm, whining like an aggrieved child.

"Mom, look at my mother-in-law. She's trying to guilt-trip us."

"What's the meaning of this?" Chloe's mother piped up. "Are you implying we disrespected your good intentions? Let me tell you, my daughter married into this family to live a good life! Forget a few crabs and shrimp—she could waste a banquet and we wouldn't bat an eye!"

Before I could get a word in, my son rushed over, bowing and apologizing profusely to them.

He yanked at my sleeve.

"Mom, apologize," he hissed, shooting me a sharp glare.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. I didn't want to apologize, but seeing my son groveling before his in-laws broke my heart.

Fine. What else could I do? I was his mother.

I forced myself to back down.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Davis," I said quietly, giving in.

Chloe's parents finally smirked with satisfaction.

"Wait, Mom, what happened to Leo's forehead?"

Before one fire was put out, another was lit. Chloe noticed the small scrape on Leo's head and turned on me aggressively.

I knew I was partly at fault for that.

I softened my tone and explained what had happened that afternoon.

"I swear, you can't even watch a kid properly. What good are you? You look plenty nimble—you didn't do this to Leo on purpose, did you?"

"God as my witness! If I ever harmed Leo on purpose, may I be struck dead right here!"

At Chloe's vile accusation, I snapped and shouted back.

I had raised this child since the day he was born. When he was sick, I stayed up night after night at the hospital caring for him. Every single school event and parent-teacher meeting, I was the one who went.

It was no exaggeration to say I had poured more love into him than I had into my own son when he was small.

For Chloe to say something so cruel was completely unbearable.

"You're so petty, who knows if you were trying to get back at me," Chloe muttered, grabbing Leo by the hand and walking toward the door.

My son, Justin, merely glanced at my bruised and bleeding legs before walking out after them, slamming the door shut.

I was left all alone in the dead-silent house.