Seven years in vain, give love back to myself 1/3
Chapter 1
I found my son’s diary.
He had written: [Mom and Dad fought again. I hope they don’t get divorced.]
It seemed like a childish complaint, but I froze when I read the next line.
[If they get divorced, people will call Ms. Hughes a homewrecker.]
[Dad said he’d protect her, so let’s just put up with that nagging old lady a little longer.]
At four in the afternoon, I arrived at the kindergarten, holding a Marvel action figure I had waited three hours in line to buy.
This was the toy my son, Ryan Scott, had been dreaming about for ages.
Thinking about the joy on his face when he saw it, I almost forgot the burning pain in my arm from standing under the scorching sun.
The dismissal bell rang, and children poured out of the school one after another.
Chapter
2/3
1 scanned the crowd for Ryan.
Then, a striking figure caught my eye.
Unlike the other parents dressed casually for school pickup, she was elegant and fashionable, her long hair falling smoothly over her shoulders. She wore a wine–red dress that flowed to her pale ankles.
If Ryan hadn’t rushed into her arms with a big grin, I might have mistaken her for a youthful mom.
The teacher hesitated before asking, “Excuse me, you are?”
Before the woman could respond, Ryan cheerfully wrapped his arms around her neck and exclaimed, “Ms. Wilson, this is my mom. Isn’t she pretty?”
His voice was loud, every word clear as day to me.
I stood frozen, my body cold as ice.
Joyce Wilson, doing her due diligence, asked again, “Then who was picking you up before?”
Without a moment’s thought, Ryan replied, “That was our nanny. Don’t ask so much. Today is my mom’s birthday, and my dad has been waiting for her for a long time.”
Joyce offered the woman an apologetic smile.
Chapter 1
The woman gently patted Ryan’s head, her tone soft but firm. “Don’t talk like that. Apologize to your teacher.”
Ryan stuck out his tongue playfully. ‘Sorry, Ms. Wilson.”
Then he tightened his arms around her neck. He had never shown such affection for me.
