When the female lead appeared, I was already pregnant with Ethan's child. Unable to fight fate, he had once desperately broken off his engagement with the female lead for me, but that only made her hate me to the bone, detesting the very sight of me. Eventually, I grew tired. I threw away our tangled feelings, and even gave up the child. Until a late afternoon, six years later. A tender-faced child knocked on my door. He kept a straight face, acting like a little adult: "My dad doesn't want me anymore, can I come live with you?" 1 I froze for a moment, speechless. Leo pursed his lips unhappily, tilting his pretty little face up, and said earnestly: "My teacher said that parents have the responsibility and obligation to raise their children..." The half-open door cut off the rest of his sentence. I stepped aside slightly and said calmly: "Come in." The dim, yellow light inside illuminated his slightly widened eyes. His eyes flickered inexplicably. He lifted his chin, let out a "hmph," and obediently walked in. Closing the door, I turned around to see Leo curiously looking around. Seeing me look over, he immediately retracted his gaze, nervously gripping his backpack straps, his little face tense: "My name is Leo Vance." It sounded like a self-introduction, yet also a reminder of his identity—the child Ethan and I had together. I knew. From the first glance, I confirmed who he was. Because his features were almost an exact replica of Ethan's. Seemingly disappointed by my calm reaction, he unhappily turned his head away, refusing to look at me. I placed his small, bright yellow backpack by the entryway and led him to wash his hands. "Let's eat first." Leo obediently said "oh," and by the time I brought the food out, he had already climbed onto a chair by himself. I asked him why he came looking for me so suddenly. Leo kept his head down, poking at the small greens in his bowl. His little round, black head drooping, his voice muffled: "I had a fight with him. He threw things and told me to get out, saying I should never come back." So it was just a temper tantrum and running away from home. Then Ethan should be coming to pick him up very soon. Makes sense. After all, the Vance family fought ruthlessly with me for Leo's custody six years ago. Now, it was even more impossible that they didn't want him. My chopsticks paused, unable to define the feeling in my heart at this moment. I didn't know Leo was coming tonight, so I only had a simple meal of two dishes and one soup. He was a picky eater, avoiding onions and carrots, until eventually, he had no vegetables left to eat. Leo glared bitterly at the mashed vegetable leaves, stole a glance at me, and guiltily swallowed them. When we first met, he had a touch of arrogance and haughtiness. Now, being a picky eater who didn't like greens, it was clear he was pampered and spoiled at the Vance house. He shouldn't have suffered any real grievances. I relaxed a bit. After washing the dishes, I waited for Ethan to send someone to pick him up. I waited until nine-thirty. Six-year-olds get sleepy early. He pulled his pajamas out of his backpack, looking around with his eyes, and pouted: "There's only one room." "Are we squeezing into one bed tonight?" I glanced at the clock on the wall. For some reason, the Vance family still hadn't sent anyone. I had to compromise. "Yeah, you'll sleep with me tonight." I originally thought Leo would throw a tantrum. After all, a modest one-bedroom apartment was naturally nowhere near as comfortable as the Vance family's luxurious mansion. But Leo just pursed his lips, his eyes flickering. After wiping his face, he grunted as he changed into his pajamas, kicking his legs to climb onto the bed by himself. Just like how, despite looking disgusted during dinner, he silently finished the greens I put in his bowl. He wriggled under the covers, making a little mound, pulled out a fairy tale book from who-knows-where, and peeked out to look at me, urging: "Aren't you going to coax me to sleep?" He looked quite happy. 2 After coaxing Leo to sleep, I pulled up Ethan's number. I hesitated for a long time, but still didn't dial. Ethan and I had been apart for six years. At first, we both thought we could fight fate. Back then, my family suddenly went bankrupt. The Vance family broke off our engagement and, hiding it from Ethan, engaged him to Mia. For me, he broke off the engagement with Mia regardless of the consequences. He even gave up his position as the heir, taking a beating from Grandpa Vance according to family law that left him bedridden for half a month. Seeing me cry, he endured the pain, a lazy smile on his lips as he coaxed me in a low voice. I thought everything would be fine. The bankruptcy would be fine, Ethan would be fine, the future would be fine. But it wasn't. Ethan and I secretly got married, hiding it from everyone. Perhaps because of Ethan's unwavering commitment to me from beginning to end, after getting pregnant, I never once thought about not wanting the baby. Until the eve of giving birth. I endured the pain and called him for a long time, but Ethan never answered. My neighbors rushed me to the hospital. When I woke up, I saw a cold and indifferent Ethan. I didn't know why someone could change so drastically overnight. So much so that his eyes were filled with unfamiliarity and disgust when he looked at me. Mia came to see me once. From her, I learned the truth about this world. Due to a system error in timing, when the late female lead appeared, the male lead had already developed feelings for someone else. As the price of correction, the male lead's erroneous feelings began to invert. However much he loved me before, that's how much he hated me now. Mia looked at me with pity and sorrow. Before leaving, she asked in a low voice, have you thought about what will happen to your child's future? I was suddenly stunned, feeling a bit lost. I didn't know who to hate anymore. Should I hate Ethan? But he didn't even understand his own feelings. Should I hate fate? But what's the use of hating? I couldn't change anything. At that time, my parents were in a car accident on their way to the hospital to see me. They were in a coma and might be vegetables for the rest of their lives. I was on the verge of breaking down. My mind kept replaying everything Mia had said. I just felt that this bastard world was so, so exhausting. When I pushed open the window and looked down, the baby by the hospital bed suddenly started wailing loudly. I thought in a daze, what would happen to him if I died? Would this world tolerate his existence? Would he be abused by Mia? Or would he be like me, despised by Ethan, enduring countless grievances alone, and finally dying silently while everyone hoped for it? I started trembling all over. I went back to the bedside, my hands shaking as they reached for his neck. I wanted to take him with me. But then he stopped crying. His red, teary eyes stared at me eagerly, as if no matter where we went, he just wanted to be with his mother. It wasn't until the nurses and bodyguards noticed something was wrong, rushed in, and pushed me away hard. I looked down at my trembling hands, only then realizing what absurd thing I had almost done under Mia's suggestion. The news quickly reached the Vance family. Grandpa Vance specifically asked to see me, starting a fight for custody of the child. I didn't ask for anything. I threw away the Ethan who despised me, gave up custody, and straightforwardly signed the divorce papers. I only asked for two million dollars. Youth doesn't know the taste of sorrow. The Miss Hastings who once casually threw around millions would now find herself at a dead end for a few thousand dollars in hospital bills. From beginning to end, Ethan never appeared. His disgust for me reached the point where he didn't even want to look at me. So, I accepted my fate. I threw away our tangled feelings, and even gave up the child. I let him go, and I let myself go. I didn't snap out of my reverie until a soft little bundle buried its head into my arms. Leo closed his eyes, let out a soft grunt, and curled up sweetly in my arms. As if finally finding a comfortable position, he fell fast asleep. He uneasily gripped the hem of my shirt tightly, as if afraid I would disappear the moment he opened his eyes. I looked at that innocent, tender face and couldn't help but sigh softly. If he knew his mother had wanted to strangle him right after he was born, would he still have come looking for me? He would probably run as far away from me as possible. 3 By morning, Ethan still hadn't appeared. I didn't know what he was trying to do. Back then, the Vance family fought so ruthlessly for custody, and now they were acting like they could just throw him away. I woke Leo up early and called a cab to take him to school. The kindergarten he attended wasn't in the same city as where I lived, but luckily, it was only an hour's drive away. Before getting out of the car, he made me promise repeatedly that I would pick him up after school, whining and clinging to me, refusing to let go. Until he saw a car parked in front of the kindergarten. His eyes lit up. He hurriedly pulled me out of the car, but as we got closer, he deliberately slowed down, pretending to casually block the path of a chubby little boy who had just gotten out of a car. As if doing it on purpose for him to see, Leo waved our linked hands in front of him. Then, very loudly, so everyone could hear, he asked me: "Mom, you're picking me up after school, right?" This was the first time Leo called me "Mom." Perhaps because of my six-year absence, he had never proactively called me "Mom" even when he knocked on my door. The chubby boy stared at me intently, saying in disbelief: "If you have a mom, why didn't she drop you off before?" Leo scoffed, his gaze disdainful: "My mom is busy with work. Today she specifically took time off to drop me off." He emphasized the word "specifically." He held my hand, walking up to the main gate of the kindergarten in front of everyone, as if showing off, wanting everyone to see. Before parting, he awkwardly asked one more time: "...You'll come pick me up, right?" Seeing me stay silent, he glared at me, then said very frantically and quietly: "You promised me in the car. Adults aren't allowed to lie!" I helplessly squatted down, flattened his turned-up collar, and ruffled his hair. His hair was dark and soft, feeling great to the touch. "Okay, I'll pick you up." He couldn't help but curl his lips into a smile, then tried hard to keep a straight face, acting mature, lifting his chin and saying reservedly: "Hmm, I'll remember to wait for you." I only retracted my gaze after his figure completely disappeared from my sight. I found his teacher and asked about Leo's situation in kindergarten. The teacher hesitated, finally sighing and complaining with a frown: "I know the Vance family is powerful, and my words might not hold much weight." "But Leo's Mom, no matter how busy you are, you can't just completely ignore your child, right?" "Since he enrolled, no one has ever come to a parent-teacher meeting!" "Now all the kids in the kindergarten are saying he doesn't have a mom. If this continues, it will be very bad for his physical and mental development." No one has ever come to a parent-teacher meeting? Even if Ethan is busy and dislikes this child, is he too lazy to even have an assistant handle it? I frowned, feeling for the first time that I might have made the wrong decision. ...Maybe I shouldn't have given up custody back then. But I was penniless then, my parents were in a coma in the hospital, and I couldn't even support myself. How could I talk about raising a fragile child? I pulled up Ethan's number, hesitated for a moment, but still dialed it. I decided to have a good talk with him. If Ethan really didn't want to raise him anymore, I would take him back with me. Although the current me couldn't provide him with the excellent conditions of the Vance family, it was still enough to raise a child. Just as the call went through, a ringtone sounded behind me. As if realizing something, my fingertips trembled, and I turned around. I saw Ethan stepping out of a black Bentley. Six years had passed. He seemed to have changed, yet also seemed the same. He half-lowered his eyelashes, looking at the lit screen, his wrist bones clearly visible, his cold, sharp face hidden in the shadows. Unrushed, he slightly raised an eyebrow and suddenly looked up. "You've been hiding from me for so many years." "Want to talk?" Unlike my disheveled state over the years, Ethan remained composed and steady. His features were exactly as I remembered, but the look in his eyes as he gazed at me was inexplicably deep. Even the dappled light filtering through the tree branches seemed to favor him. I heard he had already taken over the Vance family's entire estate from Grandpa Vance. I heard the brand he founded was popular worldwide. I heard he had secretly married years ago and kept a low profile. The decades of memories I had deliberately ignored surged forward like a collapsing dam, a fine, dense pain spreading across my chest. It wasn't until the moment I saw him that I suddenly realized. I thought I had moved on. It turns out I hadn't. In our youth, he wove grass ring rings for me and kicked the person who bullied me into the pool. No one could have imagined that we would end up in such an awkward situation today. Actually, he hadn't changed; he just didn't love me anymore, that was all. It really has been a long, long time, Ethan. 4 We walked in silence and found a nearby cafe. Before the coffee even arrived, I got straight to the point, as if to cover something up: "Do you still want the child?" For the past six years, I had fantasized about reuniting with Ethan to the point of near torture. So much so that now I could pretend to be indifferent. Ethan raised his eyes, glanced at me, without hesitation: "Of course I do." I pursed my lips, staring at the street sign outside the floor-to-ceiling window, let out a low "hmm," and stood up. "Then remember to pick him up after school. If you don't have time for parent-teacher meetings, you can notify me. I won't disturb you and—" I still couldn't say Mia's name calmly. I couldn't help but dig my nails into my palms, the sharp pain keeping me lucid, forcing myself to say: "...Won't disturb your life." I glanced at the time and was about to leave. As we brushed past each other, I only heard Ethan ask out of the blue: "So you only want to talk to me about Leo now?" My steps faltered, not quite understanding. Things between us were settled clearly six years ago. He found another love, and I took the two million and walked away cleanly. It was that simple. Besides Leo, what else was there for us to talk about? Ethan let out a soft breath, his pitch-black pupils fixed on me, and spoke again: "Alright then, I don't want Leo anymore." He sounded so self-righteous, as if he wasn't the one changing his mind at the last minute. I furrowed my brows, unable to help but ask him: "What do you mean?" Ethan's jaw lifted slightly, tapping the seat opposite him, motioning for me to sit back down. "Exactly what it sounds like." "You want to raise the child, fine. The child is yours." "Considering the child's physical and mental health, every Friday night I will go to your current residence to fulfill necessary shared parenting duties with Leo, and drive back to the company Monday morning." Watching him calmly spout nonsense, I only felt it was absurd. Driven beyond patience, I reminded him: "We are already divorced." "Are we?" Ethan let out an ambiguous scoff. "I didn't sign." I belatedly understood the meaning of that sentence. When Grandpa Vance had me sign the divorce agreement, I thought Ethan despised me so much he didn't even want to see me one last time, so he never appeared from start to finish. He said he didn't sign. But why come looking for me only after six years? I wouldn't flatter myself into thinking he still had any feelings for me. Maybe that agreement was lost, or there was some loophole that required a supplementary agreement; anything was possible. I pursed my lips, cooperating nicely: "Then we'll sign a new one." Ethan didn't even look up: "Not signing." I spoke to him in an even tone: "Signing it makes us even, isn't that good?" "No, it's not." "Do you have any concerns? I don't want shares or money, consider it me leaving with nothing." "Don't want it." Those three 'no's made me angry yet dazed. Perhaps Ethan himself didn't even remember, but this is exactly how he was in his youth. That day was his birthday party. Someone cornered me, their gaze frivolous and disrespectful, spouting nonsense. Ethan kicked the guy into the pool with one strike. It caused a huge scene. The guests were all prominent figures in Capitol City, and the elders from several families looked displeased. When asked for the reason, Ethan never offered an explanation. To avoid rumors and protect my reputation, Ethan didn't even mention me from start to finish. He refused to admit fault and stubbornly took a beating from Grandpa Vance. I suppose no one could have imagined that this future business mogul spent his eighteenth birthday in a confinement room. The door was completely locked, not even medicine could be delivered. I curled up outside the door, saying very softly and guiltily: "I'm sorry." Through the door panel, he paused for a moment, making some rustling sounds. It seemed he sat down by the door too. His voice was a bit muffled. He let out a soft "oh," then said: "Not listening." I buried my forehead against my knees, saying sullenly: "Actually, you didn't have to kick him. Just waiting for him to finish would have been fine, he didn't dare to actually do anything to me." "Wasn't going to wait." I didn't speak again. Maybe my voice was too muffled earlier and he misunderstood something. After a moment, he said again: "No crying." He knocked on the door panel, clicking his tongue lightly: "I did it willingly, it has nothing to do with you, no crying." I snapped back to reality, trying my best to hide the sourness in my eyes, but I seemed to hear his "no crying" from many years ago again. Ethan sat under the light, smiling faintly. The fine dust caught the scattered light, drifting down. His old silhouette had long silently sharpened over the years. He looked up and raised an eyebrow at me. As if answering what I had said earlier. "Chloe, we can never be even." 5 I don't quite remember how it ended. I only remember that I was so angry I left without even saying goodbye. Because I parted on bad terms with Ethan, I wasn't sure if he was just saying that or if he really intended to do it. I hesitated for a moment but still didn't take a cab back. Perhaps the round-trip fare was almost equal to a day's wages for me, and taking time off seemed better than going back to work. Or perhaps it was the maternal love absent for six years acting up; I didn't want to break my promise to Leo. I waited until four-thirty in the afternoon when kindergarten let out. Most of the children in this kindergarten came from prominent families. Among the coming and going luxury cars, I saw that Bentley stop in front of Leo. So I didn't step forward. I turned around, slowly walking in the direction I came from, suddenly feeling my previous worries were ridiculous. What was I thinking? How could the Vance family really let the child leave with me? That Bentley quickly drove away, kicking up thick dust as we brushed past each other. I inexplicably thought of that tender little face. We probably won't see each other again. Driven by some inexplicable impulse, I turned my head for one last look. After the black car left, the previously obscured road on the other side was revealed. Leo stood all alone at the kindergarten gate. His wide, round eyes met my gaze. His eyes lit up, and he was about to rush toward me, but was stopped by a teacher beside him. He scrunched up his little face, seemingly saying something to the teacher in frustration. Afraid he'd run blindly across the street, by the time I snapped out of it, I had already unconsciously taken several steps toward him. The teacher saw me, and only then did she let Leo come over. He ran over, panting, his dark, round eyes sparkling. He only slowed down when he got close, deliberately putting on an air of indifference, acting coy but happy: "...You, you really came to pick me up?" His soft little hand tentatively held my fingertips. Seeing I didn't pull away, he pursed his lips, sneaked a glance at me, and gripped tighter. I gave a soft "hmm," asking him a bit uncertainly: "Aren't you going with him?" Mentioning Ethan, Leo's face puffed up like a little gas tank ready to explode: "I don't want him! Plus, he's not here to pick me up!" "He said you work hard dropping me off and picking me up, that my constant clinging would annoy you, and told me not to bother you at work." Looking very opinionated and seemingly quite disdainful of Ethan, he spoke solemnly and proudly: "I'm not as stupid as him!" "I talked to the teacher about transferring schools today, so you won't have to spend so much time dropping me off anymore!" He tilted his little face up, his gaze expectant, seemingly waiting for me to praise him. I couldn't help but rub his round, little black head. There was a lot of traffic on the way home. After buying groceries at the market, the sky grew dark as I led Leo home. Suddenly, as if remembering something, he muttered casually: "Oh right, Uncle Driver is picking me up after school tomorrow. Dad said I have to go home tomorrow to get my change of clothes." "But I'm still coming back here to sleep! You're not allowed to forget me!" Tomorrow was Friday. I unconsciously tightened my grip on the plastic bag holding the ingredients for braised pork, paused for a moment, and said gently: "Okay." Children have short memories. Perhaps after one weekend, he would be coaxed by his family and then, forget me. Every time we met, I treated it as the last time. Because only by doing so would I not feel disappointed during the long waits. 6 By ten-thirty Friday night, Leo still hadn't returned. I calmly put away the pajamas he had left on the edge of the bed that morning and stuffed the extra dishes I had made into the fridge. I turned off the lights, spaced out in the dark for a while, and closed my eyes. When I woke up again, I heard the sound of rain pattering outside the window. The sky was just getting light. I had nightmares all night and woke up with a splitting headache, throbbing in waves. There were a few unread messages on my phone. Before leaving yesterday, Leo hugged my leg, pestering me for my phone number. The earliest voice message was sent at midnight. It carried a hint of guilt, sounding a bit defensive, yet like an explanation. [I didn't mean to be late!] [I had my clothes ready by six! But Dad got sick again and doesn't seem to have the energy to drop me off.] [He's so useless!] The second message came half an hour later. Cautious, with a hint of crying. [Mom, are you angry?] [Do you not want me again?] [I don't want to stay here either, but, but I don't have a choice. I don't have Uncle Driver's phone number—] ... The last one was from ten minutes ago. He took a picture of the instructions for a fever reducer, asking me what it said and if kids could take this medicine. I quickly called his number back. The phone was answered in a second, and the sound of sniffling came from the other side. "Mom." My phone automatically went on Do Not Disturb at night. I couldn't even imagine how frightened and anxious Leo must have been all night. Afraid of scaring the child, I took a deep breath, tried to keep my voice steady, gripped the phone tightly, and asked gently: "Do you have a fever? Can you tell Mom where it hurts?" There was a sneeze on the other end of the line. He didn't answer the question, but asked cautiously with a nasal voice: "Mom, can you come pick me up?" I knew it. I couldn't refuse. 7 Following the location Leo sent, I found a villa complex in Capitol City. It seemed they had been informed in advance, as the guards didn't give me much trouble and easily let me in. Standing in front of the door, I inexplicably felt this villa looked very much like my old home. Just as I was about to ring the bell, a hand blocked me first. I saw Mia's reflection on the doorbell screen. My pupils shrank. My mind buzzed. Mia frowned, seemingly unable to understand: "Why are you here?" Almost like a conditioned reflex, I threw off her hand. Under her astonished gaze, I pursed my lips: "I came to pick up Leo." Mia froze, seemed to think of something, and said pointedly: "Actually, you really shouldn't have given up custody back then." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a trace of pity: "You know, Ethan doesn't like this child." "He's stubborn and difficult, not lovable at all. He still refuses to call me 'Mom'." "Oh right, haven't you experienced it before? Those who go against the protagonist never have a good ending." She smiled faintly. A light sentence, yet it sent me right back to that cold winter six years ago. But this time, I didn't step back. "He has a mother; he doesn't need a second one." "As for the 'no good ending' you mentioned—" I took a step towards her, staring into her eyes, retorting sarcastically: "Since you know exactly what happened back then, you should also know very well that I have nothing left to lose now." "You can go ahead and try what you just said." I smiled and said: "Anyway, I have nothing but a worthless life. When that day really comes, I'll make sure to take you with me before I go." Mia instinctively took a step back, seemingly not expecting the person who had broken down in despair six years ago to now know how to fight back. She bit her lip and didn't speak. Ignoring her, I rang the doorbell directly. Not long after, the door was pushed open from the inside. The door revealed a sickly, listless face. Ethan seemed not to expect me to appear here, instinctively asking: "Why are you—" The next instant, his eyes grew cold, and he said almost indifferently: "Get out." Was everything that happened six years ago going to repeat itself because of Mia's appearance? I tugged my lips in a near-mocking smile: "Don't worry, I'll leave as soon as I pick up Leo." But as if unable to bear it anymore, he grabbed my wrist. Then, without a word, he pulled me inside the house, using half his body to block me, and slammed the door shut with a cold face. Before the door closed, I clearly saw the smile Mia had just put on turn rigid. I looked up at Ethan blankly. ...Ah. Did he grab the wrong person? 8 The temperature of the hand gripping my wrist was scalding. The burning sensation told me it wasn't an illusion. Ethan explained to me in a low voice: "I wasn't talking about you." I belatedly realized I seemed to have misunderstood something and uncomfortably pulled my hand back. He just looked down at his empty hand, couldn't help but curl his fingers, and then dialed the guard's number. His expression was aloof and cold. "Didn't I tell you not to let her in?" A flurry of panicked apologies came from the receiver, and something else seemed to be said. Not long after Ethan hung up, a surveillance video was sent over. He handed the phone to me. I looked blank and confused, so he explained: "I never let Mia in. She snuck in right behind you." Seeing I didn't take it, he seriously stuffed the phone into my hand and carefully closed my fingers over it one by one. "Evidence, hold onto it." But I caught a faint scent of alcohol. Is Ethan a lightweight? I belatedly realized that Ethan right now did indeed seem quite different from usual. My vision went dark. Besides me, probably no one else knows just how difficult a drunk Ethan can be. Under Ethan's pressure, I forced myself to finish watching the surveillance video under his supervision. He stood by me the whole time, and even used his gaze to urge me to speak after the video ended, seemingly waiting for my "post-viewing thoughts." I laughed a bit nervously, forcibly changing the subject, and kindly reminded him: "You seem to have a fever." He reached out to touch my forehead, seemed to think about it seriously for a moment, and said solemnly: "Oh, it seems so." ...He's silly, there's no saving him. I couldn't help but turn my head and sigh, only to see Leo dragging a suitcase out of his room, panting heavily. He froze when he saw me by the entryway. He dropped the suitcase that was as tall as his shoulder, his eyes red, and was about to throw himself at me. "Mom!" Ethan unhappily swatted away Leo's hands hugging my legs, his expression very fierce: "Don't call out randomly, this is my wife." Leo was pushed until he stumbled, so angry he was about to cry. His little face was flushed from the fever, and he scrunched up his face, glaring at him hatefully: "Are you a bandit? Mom clearly came looking for me!" My ears hurt so much. Chirping away, like I was raising two sparrows. Before I could speak, Ethan had already pulled me into the bedroom with a cold face. Leo indignantly kicked his little legs, trying to follow, but was stopped by Ethan pressing an index finger to his forehead, pushing him out expressionlessly. The door closed with a smack. The world was quiet.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "394495", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel