There was a fire at home. As a firefighter, my husband was the first to rescue our son and the kitten from his first love. In a rush to calm his panicked first love, he hurried out. When the other firefighters asked if anyone else was still inside, our son glanced in my direction and shook his head. “There’s no one else.” Later, I was rescued, but in critical condition. My son waited outside my hospital room, his face full of regret. “Why didn’t you just die in there? If you’d died, Cece could be my mom.” ***** When I heard those cruel words come from my son’s innocent voice, I couldn’t help but shake with disbelief. “Theo Latham, I’m your mother! How could you say that to me?” Theo, whose face looked almost exactly like my husband Victor’s, showed a flash of disgust. “So what if you’re my mom? You’ve never been good to me! I wish you’d just die already so Dad could marry Cece.” He snorted, pressing his hand hard on the wound in my abdomen. Five years ago, I gave birth to him, and the pain nearly tore me apart, leaving a long scar on my belly. Five years later, he pressed his hand onto the same spot. Watching me twist in pain, he smiled, clearly satisfied. “This is your punishment. Cece could’ve been Dad’s wife! I’m going to see Muffin now. You stay here, you evil woman!” With that, Theo turned and left. I was left alone in the sterile hospital room. I stared at the white ceiling, the pain still eating at me. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. I overheard nurses whispering as they passed by. They said how sorry they felt for me—alone in my hospital bed, with no family, not even a caregiver. Yeah, I was pitiful. What did I really get out of these seven years with Victor? Neither he nor Theo—my own son, the one I’d struggled to bring into this world—cared more about Celeste Harper than me. In their eyes, I didn’t even rank higher than Celeste’s cat Muffin. During the fire, I protected Theo and ended up trapped under a collapsed bookshelf. Victor, the fire captain, ignored the warnings of his teammates and rushed in to save us. But he didn’t even look at me as he carried Theo, unharmed, and the cat Celeste left at our house. They all left the scene without a second glance. I thought he would come back for me. I waited for rescue, but then I overheard Theo talking with the other firefighters. “Theo, your dad took the cat to the hospital. Is there anyone else still inside?” I was almost suffocating, smoke clouding my vision. But for some reason, Theo’s voice cut through clearly. “There’s no one else. You don’t need to go in.” Victor’s teammates praised him for being so mature. But as I lay there, a cold wave of dread washed over me. How could there be no one else? Theo had just been pushed away by me, barely missing the bookshelf. Why was he lying? The pressure in my chest intensified, and I screamed for help with whatever strength I had left. Finally, someone noticed me and I was saved, rushed to the hospital. But the son I had loved so deeply had just said he wished I were dead. Tears welled up in my eyes. Surviving that ordeal, I felt like everything clicked into place. What was meant to be wouldn’t be forced. I didn’t need Victor, and I didn’t need Theo.
I spent a full month in the hospital. I’d been trapped for so long that I suffered serious inhalation injuries and had to be intubated to clear my lungs. The pain from the burns was a new kind of torture every time they changed the dressings. A month felt like an entire year. But during all that time, neither Victor nor Theo had come to see me once. I tried not to care, but it stung when I saw other families reunited. The day I was discharged, the sun hit me, and for a moment, I felt dizzy. I thought back to when Victor and I first met. The weather that day was just like today—perfect. We were set up by friends of our parents. He was a firefighter, and I was a teacher. He was an only child, and so was I. He liked peace and quiet, enjoyed reading, while I was happy staying home watching movies and tending to my garden. It felt like fate. We had endless conversations, found so much in common, and naturally, we ended up together. But on our wedding day, I saw a message on Victor’s phone from someone named “Cece.” Cece texted: [Congrats. You got what you wanted.] Victor stared at it for a long time. At the time, I thought nothing of it. I assumed she was just a close friend who couldn’t make it to the wedding. That was why Victor looked so distracted. But it wasn’t until this year, when she came back from studying abroad and Victor was crying out her name after meeting her at a school reunion, that I realized how naive I’d been. I went into a frenzy, digging into their past. Celeste was Victor’s first love. Their relationship had been passionate, and intense. He was quiet, and studious, while she was spoiled and rebellious. In school, Celeste had barely scraped by. Victor came from a poor family. Their hobbies were worlds apart. But somehow, against all odds, they made it through high school and university together. Until Celeste went abroad for grad school and broke up with him. After two years, Victor met me. The message Celeste sent—about him getting what he wanted—was her response to their breakup. Victor had told her that he wouldn’t wait for her, and that he’d marry someone more suitable for him. And I was that someone. When I found out all of this, it felt like my heart was being slowly sliced apart. If this had happened before, I probably would’ve gotten a divorce, unable to deal with such a tainted love. But looking at my son, still in elementary school, I stayed silent. I let the weight of all this emotional dust settle deep inside me.
I got in the car, and headed back to the house. It wasn’t the one that burned down. It was the other house—the one that hadn’t been destroyed in the fire. When Victor and I got married, his family bought us a house, and mine bought another one. The one that burned down was Victor’s house. But I didn’t expect, when I turned the key and opened the door, to see not Victor and Theo… But Celeste, wearing my pajamas and acting like she owned the place. “I thought Victor was back.” She pouted, muttering under her breath, then slipped on my slippers, and walked back to the living room. That was when I saw it—the home I’d carefully picked out, the one I’d put my heart and soul into decorating, now in complete disarray. The white carpet that I’d always kept spotless was stained with oil. I didn’t ask her why she was there. The answer was obvious. Who else but the father and son—who practically worshipped Celeste—would do something like this? But not asking didn’t stop some people from wanting to show off. Celeste lay back on my sofa, munching on chips, crumbs falling into the crevices, and she didn’t even bother to clean up. I frowned slightly, but she just found it amusing. “Can’t stand it, can you? But your husband and son both love my carefree style. Naomi, do you know what they say about you? You’re only in your thirties, but you act like an old lady. With your personality, how could anyone like you? It’s even worse now, isn’t it? I heard your skin’s all burned up?” As she said this, she grinned and started to lift my shirt. I quickly pulled away, but she still caught a glimpse of the scars. The gruesome, terrifying marks made this spoiled rich girl take a step back, and before she could steady herself, she fell to the ground. “Cece, Dad and I brought Muffin back!” Theo came in just then, holding the kitten. He saw the scene and immediately put the cat down, rushing to stand in front of Celeste like a hero. “You evil woman! You were trying to hurt Cece again!” He had cat fur all over him. As soon as he came close, I could barely breathe. I quickly grabbed some antihistamines from my bag. Just as I was about to take a pill, Theo jumped up and snatched the bottle from my hand. “Apologize to Cece, or I’m not giving you your medicine!” I stared coldly at this child I carried for nine months and gave birth to. Theo was a preemie. When he was born, he was tiny, and he’s always been physically weak, and prone to illness. I lost count of the times I’d taken him to the hospital. Later, under the doctor’s guidance, I strictly controlled his diet and even made him go out and exercise. Since Celeste came back, she’d clearly been filling his head with nonsense. He was just a grade-schooler, yet he’d started saying I took away his freedom. At first, I thought he was just talking nonsense, but after the fire, I realized he truly hated me. I wish I could turn back time and not have brought him into this world. I didn’t do as Theo expected and groveled at Cece’s feet. Instead, I pulled out a fresh pack of pills from my bag, gave him a mocking glance, and swallowed one. Theo froze for a moment and then lunged at me, trying to hit me. If this had happened before, maybe I would have stood there, letting him take out his frustration on me, knowing he was weak. But now, all I had to do was give him a light shove, and Theo was on the floor. “With this little strength, you think you can play the hero?” Theo didn’t react with the same anger as before. Instead, he stared at me, looking a bit confused. After all, before this, I never even raised my voice at him, let alone laid a hand on him. If he’d gotten a scratch, I’d be a wreck. “You pushed me? How could you push me?” His face was full of confusion and hurt. Celeste quickly grabbed a box of chicken tenders. “Don’t argue with this kind of person, Theo. Here, have some chicken tenders. Don’t be upset.” “Hmph, Cece’s the best!” Theo grabbed the tenders from her hand and started eating with gusto. But his eyes kept darting back to me, as if waiting for my reaction. Theo had a weak stomach, and I rarely let him eat junk food like this. But I didn’t care anymore. I shot him a cold glance and turned to leave. Just as I was heading out the door, I ran into Victor, who was carrying bags of snacks and fruits from the store. He seemed surprised to see me here and froze for a moment. Theo, sensing his chance, ran to him and started tattling. “Dad, you’re finally back! When I opened the door, I saw her she push Cece down, and now she’s pushing me! I don’t want her as my mom anymore. Can you divorce her and let Cece be my mom?” Celeste stood by, watching me with a smug expression. “Your temper’s getting worse! So what if you got hurt in the fire? You’ve already been discharged from the hospital. Cece’s going through a hard time at home, dealing with depression, and she’s alone. Why do you have to make things harder for her? Can’t you be a little kinder?” I didn’t look at Victor, but my gaze fell on the bags in his hands. I’d asked him so many times to help me buy things around the house because I couldn’t carry them myself, but he always made excuses. “Too busy with work,” he’d say, or “I’m too tired” when he had a day off. It wasn’t a matter of time or strength. He just didn’t want to do it. A bitter smile tugged at my lips, and I didn’t know if I’d just triggered something in Victor. His expression darkened. “Apologize to Cece!” He ordered, just like so many times before. I couldn’t help but reflect on how I’d always let him call the shots. I flexed my wrist and swung my arm, slapping Victor across the face. Victor stood there, stunned. Theo and Celeste were both frozen in shock. None of them had expected me to hit Victor. “We’re getting a divorce. The kid stays with you. I don’t want him.” I walked out the door without looking back. But I could still hear them behind me. “Victor, don’t get mad. She’s just throwing a tantrum.” “Yeah, yeah, she wouldn’t be giving up custody if she really wanted a divorce. If only she’d actually divorce you, Cece could finally be my mom.” I smiled to myself. She would be.
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