What's even more overwhelming was yet to come.
Three days later, Alaric disappeared again.
I stormed into my ex-husband's office to take him back, only to find him sitting on the floor, clutching his father's leg and crying.
"Mommy, I can't live without Daddy. Please, reconcile with him!"
"If you don't, I don't want you as my mommy anymore!"
I can't describe how I felt hearing those words. It was as if my blood had reversed its flow, a cold numbness spreading through me. I felt like I died—completely.
My ex-husband's mocking gaze was all too familiar, just like when I had stood in front of him, pregnant, asking for a divorce.
"You'll come back to me, Evelyn," he said.
My heart ached as I slowly crouched, looking up at the two eerily similar faces. In a soft voice, I asked,
"Are you sure, Alaric?"
Without hesitation, he cried out, "I want Daddy with me. I want Daddy..."
"Alright," I said, taking a deep breath.
Go with your father. From now on, I'll act as if I never had a son.
---
As I walked out of my ex-husband's company, rain poured outside. My high heels splashed into a puddle, muddying my calves and staining my skirt, but I barely noticed.
Six years. I had raised him for six whole years.
When he was little, he refused to drink formula, biting my breast until it bled, sucking even when it mixed with blood. My arms trembled with pain, but I endured it, wanting him to grow stronger and build immunity.
When he cried at night, I couldn't afford a nanny, so I did everything myself, losing handfuls of hair and gaining fine lines at the corners of my eyes.
When he got older, I worried I'd ruin him with poor parenting. I sought advice everywhere, treating parenting like a professional course. I bought books and picture books in bulk, joined every parenting group I could find, and even paid for consultations with experts on how to raise a happy and healthy child.
...
Tears streamed down my face, mixing with mud and rain as they rolled down my cheeks. Instinctively, I stumbled under a tree, hugging my knees and sitting in the water. Trembling, I opened my wallet and pulled out Alaric's photo.
I stared at his chubby little face for a long time, so long that I began to wonder if today's events were just a dream.
—Alaric hadn't clung to my ex-husband's leg or said those hurtful words. He was at home, obediently waiting for me to bring back his cake...
Until I looked up and saw my ex-husband walking out of the building.
Alaric was perched on his shoulders, hugging his head with exhilaration. His cheeks were flushed, his face radiant with shy joy.
I stood frozen.
In that moment, it felt as if I had been plunged into icy water. His photo slipped from my hand into a puddle, soaking and blurring the image.
