Chapter 14
+5 Points
Chapter 14
Eric’s POV
My mom and Maggie were at it again.
I sat on the toilet, cradling my head, unable to comprehend how things had escalated to this point.
Ever since Daisy and I divorced, everything had seemed to fall apart.
Due to Maggie’s mistake, Jason became depressed after losing his guaranteed admission spot in the competition.
Then, my mom, in a ridiculous fight over eggs at the supermarket, fell down the stairs and ended up partially paralyzed. There was no choice but for me to take her in.
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But I had no time to care for her, especially since Maggie had come crawling back.
I allowed her to stay, but only under the condition that she would act as my mom’s caregiver.
Once I realized Maggie was just using me as a backup plan, I stopped sleeping with her. I was only offering her a place to stay.
At first, she got along with my mom just fine, but that changed when my mom found out Daisy had become a big–time entrepreneur. She started pushing for us to remarry and began looking down on Maggie.
Maggie, for her part, wasn’t about to tolerate that. Arguments erupted almost every day, and I found myself caught in the middle, trying to mediate.
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“Dad, are you done yet? I need to use the bathroom!” Jason kicked the door from the
outside.
I sighed, got up, and opened the door.
Jason walked into the bathroom, holding his phone. I glanced at the game screen and frowned. “Didn’t I tell you not to play games? You’re in your senior year now, with the exams coming up.”
His teacher had spoken to me more than once, saying if Jason kept this up, he wouldn’t even make it to the most ordinary university.
“How am I supposed to study in this kind of environment? If it weren’t for the woman you brought home, I wouldn’t be like this! If you hadn’t divorced my mom, I wouldn’t even be worried about failing to get into college!”
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Jason sneered and slammed the door.
“How dare you speak to your elders like that?” I shouted at the door.
From inside, Jason lazily responded, “I’ve always talked like this. You never cared before.”
I was at a loss for words. He did throw tantrums at Daisy every day, and I’d never intervened.
My mom cried, begging me to kick Maggie out. Maggie, disheveled and furious, threw chairs and threatened to stir up trouble at my company. I was utterly exhausted.
Then my boss called, asking me to come to the office. I rushed out.
But when I got there, I was informed I’d been
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laid off.
“Your absenteeism rate is too high, and you don’t have enough clients. The boss is very dissatisfied with you. I really have no choice,” my manager hinted. “Eric, you’re not getting any younger. How can you not handle things at home?”
I returned home in a daze. Just as I neared the neighborhood, I saw Daisy. She was dressed in workwear, stepping out of an SUV with a confident stride.
Over the past few years, I’d heard bits and pieces about her–how she’d opened numerous stores and even farms and
ranches.
She had always been so impressive. Back then, she was the fastest intern to be promoted. When she was pregnant, she had
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a major client ready to sign a contract, but I convinced her to stay home for her maternity leave, took that client for myself, and was promoted to manager.
At first, I really did want to spend my life with Daisy. When did I change?
Was it when I saw Daisy eating Jason’s leftovers? Or was it when I noticed she no longer bothered with makeup, letting herself go?
So when I saw Maggie again, I was taken by surprise at how stunning she still looked, as refined and elegant as ever.
Later, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at myself. I deserved this.
I had turned Daisy into someone I despise.
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I watched, helpless, as Daisy walked out with a tall man. He treated her like a treasure, helping her into the car. Daisy wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a kiss, their intimacy as natural as it had once been with
- me.
But deep down, I knew–nothing would go back to the way it was.
I had destroyed it all with my own hands.
END
Book 3: My Adopted Son Is My Husband’s Mistress’s Child
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My seven–year–old son suddenly expressed an interest in learning the piano, and I wholeheartedly supported him.
The next day, my husband contacted an old classmate to be our son’s piano teacher.
It wasn’t until that day, when I forgot some documents and returned home, that I heard my son’s affectionate voice from inside the house.
“Mom, do I play well?”
My hand froze for a moment, and then, I heard my husband’s voice.
“When that woman dies, we can finally be a family of three.”
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