Two months into college, my daughter got pregnant. For her future, I persuaded her to have an abortion. Afterward, she smoothly graduated and landed a high-paying job, becoming the pride of our small community. Yet, at the peak of her success, she brutally pushed me into a deep, abandoned quarry, leaving me to drown. That’s when I realized the child she’d carried was from a wealthy heir. All these years, she’d blamed me for every hardship in her life and career, resenting me for destroying her chance at a rich wife’s life. Now, I’m back to the day Delilah confessed her pregnancy to me. This time, I agreed to let her keep the baby. If she’s not willing to be her own person, then she can be a lapdog, hidden in the shadows. “Mom, I need to tell you something.” Watching my daughter standing there, so meek and hesitant, it hit me – I’d been reborn. It was hard to reconcile the sweet, obedient girl in front of me with the vicious monster who pushed me into that well. The suffocating terror of the water, it felt like it was just seconds ago, still clinging to me. I struggled to control my emotions. “I’m pregnant.” Delilah spoke, cautiously watching my expression. When I didn’t react too strongly, she let out a quiet breath of relief. “It’s up to you if you want to keep it or not.” “Really?” My answer made Delilah look up in surprise, a flicker of almost imperceptible joy in her eyes. “You’re an adult now. It’s time to take responsibility for your own life.” Though I felt a pang of regret for the daughter I’d meticulously raised for over a decade, I had no use for someone utterly devoid of gratitude. In my previous life, Delilah knelt before me, tears streaming down her face, telling me she was pregnant. The news hit me like a bolt from the blue. But I quickly calmed myself and asked if it was consensual. She stammered, unable to give a clear answer, making me think she’d been assaulted. Only when I threatened to call the police did she admit she had a boyfriend and it was consensual. Seeing her eyes brimming with tears, ready to spill, I couldn’t bear to scold her. I told her it wasn’t the right time to have a baby, that she should finish her studies first, then consider what came next. Under my persuasion, Delilah had the abortion. Afterward, she excelled in her studies, found a high-paying job right after graduation, and became a powerful career woman, with both fame and fortune at her fingertips. But later, she blamed all her life and career setbacks on me. If I hadn’t made her get rid of the baby, she’d be a rich wife now, free from all these injustices, she’d claimed. Finally, after just one critique from her boss, she drove almost two hundred miles back home and, without hesitation, pushed me into the well and drowned me.
“I want to keep this baby.” Delilah looked at me with newfound determination. “If you’ve decided, then that’s that.” In my previous life, after learning about Delilah’s pregnancy, I investigated the man. His scandalous reputation was already public knowledge, no investigation needed. The trust fund baby was named Blake Kingston, an utterly unwelcome illegitimate child. Years ago, the CEO of Kingston Holdings had donated his genetic material. Blake’s mother, desperate, found a way to acquire it and successfully became pregnant. She wanted to use this method to get money from the Kingston family. But the Kingstons weren’t so easily fooled; they immediately called the police. Yet, Blake’s mother, her ambition unwavering, her greed still burning, went live on social media, condemning the Kingston family. The Kingstons immediately released evidence, and Blake’s mother was subjected to a massive wave of cyberbullying. Even under such circumstances, Blake’s mother insisted on giving birth to him, believing an opportunity would eventually come. But she never imagined the opportunity would arrive so quickly. When Blake was three, the head of the Kingston family died in a car accident, and Blake, as the only male descendant, was brought back to the Kingston estate. Perhaps it was his inherent malice. Even with meticulous upbringing, Blake remained an incorrigible playboy, wild and reckless. He left a trail of broken hearts everywhere, and Delilah was just one of them. I knew he wouldn’t take responsibility for Delilah, especially given the vast social chasm between them. Since Delilah wanted to try her luck with a man who radiated pure malice, then as her mother, I had to support her. Watching Delilah still harboring hopes for happiness, I felt a pang of pity. “If you change your mind about this baby, I’ll take you to have an abortion.” This was the biggest concession I’d offer, her last chance. “I won’t abort him.” Delilah refused me flatly. Although I had expected this answer, I couldn’t help but feel my heart grow cold.
“So, what’s your plan now?” I cut off Delilah’s blissful musings. “I’m going to find my boyfriend first. We’ll get engaged, and after the baby is born and can walk, we’ll get married.” “Then the baby can even attend Mommy and Daddy’s wedding! It sounds so perfect.” Delilah imagined their future life, a genuine smile spreading across her face. Watching her, I calmly saved the audio recording. With my apparent approval, Delilah impatiently rushed off to find Blake Kingston. After she left, I took a few days to rest. After all, you need to be well-rested to truly enjoy the show! Sure enough, just a few days later, Delilah’s tearful call came in. “Mom, he doesn’t want this baby!” Before I could even speak, her sobbing, choked voice poured through the phone. I subtly twitched the corner of my mouth, fighting hard to keep my emotions in check. “Come home.” When Delilah returned, she recounted the events of the past few days. It turned out that when Delilah went to find Blake, he didn’t even remember who she was. Delilah desperately tried to prove she was his girlfriend but was humiliated and then thrown out by security. Yet, she didn’t give up, staking out every place Blake might pass through daily. Finally, she irritated the ruthless man. He immediately tried to force her to the hospital for an abortion. But they underestimated Delilah’s determination to climb up the social ladder. She fiercely struggled free from those who were trying to drag her away and fled to her rental apartment, not daring to leave for days. After spending the last of her meager money, she finally thought of me, her mother, and called. Delilah, her voice tearful and broken, recounted her ordeal of the past few days. Her eyes, still wet, held a mixture of hurt and bewilderment. Perhaps my calm reaction disappointed her; she looked at me with questioning disbelief. Realizing my response was too flat, I quickly adjusted my expression, forcing out a sympathetic wince. “Mom, what should I do?” Seeing the emotion she desired appear on my face, she continued. “You found your own boyfriend, you chose to sleep with him, and you chose to have this baby. These are your choices.” I looked at Delilah’s pathetic, half-dead expression and felt nothing but annoyance. What sin had I committed in my last life to have a daughter like this? “I’ll give you two choices: either you get rid of this child, or I give you five hundred thousand, and from this day forward, you are no longer my daughter.” Five hundred thousand was the most I could afford, but it would also serve as a good buffer against any future threats from her. “I want the five hundred thousand.” Not a moment of hesitation. “Good.” “I’ll find a lawyer in a few days to finalize the agreement.” “Mom, I’m so sorry. I have to do this for my baby.” That face, desperately trying to look sad, didn’t shed a single tear. All I saw was a crumpled, ugly grimace.
With the help of my lawyer friend, Mr. Miller, I successfully severed ties with Delilah. Oh, I can’t call her daughter anymore. I should call her Delilah. All these years, to better care for Delilah, I had been forced to give up the work I loved. Now, I finally had time to pursue my true passion. I immersed myself in the fulfillment my work brought me. I loved this life. I’d rather be an inconspicuous little sapling than a clinging, parasitic vine. I thought my upbringing would make my child such a person, but I never imagined she aspired to a different life entirely. Now, she was off chasing her life, and I would pick up mine. I reopened my design studio. The sketches I’d made in my spare time before, I brought them to life. What I hadn’t expected was how popular these designs would be. I posted my work on social media platforms and they quickly gained traction. I even felt a surge of uncontrollable excitement; I thought after all these years, I had lost my passion for these things. I was ecstatic, yet filled with gratitude. Just as I was basking in this newfound satisfaction, my former good daughter, Delilah, came knocking. “Eleanor, isn’t this your daughter?” My colleague, Maya, forwarded a video to me. In the video, Delilah was rambling on, introducing her relationship with me. The comment section was filled with nothing but praise. “No wonder they’re mother and daughter, both so talented.” “The little lady’s mom’s work is seriously amazing.” “Like mother, like daughter.” … I forced myself to watch the entire video, suppressing a wave of unease, then immediately called Delilah. Half an hour later, Delilah arrived at my studio. I no longer bothered to hide my emotions; my displeasure was plain on my face. “Ms. Delilah, I believe we’ve already severed our relationship, haven’t we?” I glanced at Delilah’s slightly swollen belly. “Besides, if anything were to happen to your child while you’re here, I wouldn’t be able to bear the responsibility.” Delilah probably hadn’t expected the mother who once doted on her to be so heartless. Her eyes quickly welled up with tears.
“Mom, are you really going to disown me? I’m your only child. Who will take care of you when you’re old if you don’t acknowledge me?” Did she really think I cared? Big deal if I ended up dying alone on the street someday; it would scare others, not me. “I must ask Ms. Delilah to delete the video immediately and apologize to me personally.” I warned Delilah sternly. Without a doubt, her misdeeds would soon spread, and this would definitely impact my brand. The sooner I distanced myself from her, the better it would be for me and my studio. Delilah probably hadn’t expected me to be so resolute. She looked on the verge of tears. But I knew that Delilah’s appearance was not what it seemed. “Ms. Delilah, you have three days to resolve this matter. Otherwise, I will file a lawsuit against you.” Seeing my unyielding stance, and knowing she was in the wrong, Delilah finally left in a fit of rage. Delilah deleted the video as I demanded, but she didn’t apologize. Out of consideration for our more than ten years of mother-daughter history, I didn’t pursue legal action. But this nearly ruined my studio. After Delilah left, I finally had a few more peaceful months. I calculated the time; Delilah was probably due to give birth soon. With the continuous growth of my studio, I also bought myself a car and a house. Just as everything was moving in a positive direction, Delilah delivered a swift kick to the gut.
After Delilah gave birth, she began staking out the Kingston Holdings building daily, even before she was barely recovered from childbirth. She would yell to anyone who passed by: “Blake Kingston of Kingston Holdings, abandoning his child and their mother!” “Blake Kingston of Kingston Holdings, abandoning his child and their mother!” … This behavior quickly spread across social media platforms, causing quite a stir. Kingston Holdings’ stock plummeted. Out of desperation, they had no choice but to call the police. But Delilah remained unfazed. After multiple police warnings, she changed her strategy. She stopped appearing outside the Kingston building and instead started live streaming online. She thought this would make Blake Kingston back down, but she greatly underestimated his ruthlessness. Although he was also an unwelcome illegitimate child, this didn’t evoke any sympathy from Blake; instead, it reminded him of his own shameful past. Blake’s name used to be different, but even after being brought into the Kingston family, he was still looked down upon. When it came to any interests or benefits, he was always the one sacrificed, which is why he was given a name that reflected being ‘abandoned’ or ‘forgotten’. Over the years, anyone who dared to look down on Blake had been quietly dealt with. Delilah’s current actions were just like his mother’s years ago. Some internet users even found videos of Blake’s mother from over twenty years ago. The shadow of being scorned had hung over him for years. Delilah’s actions successfully infuriated him. To deal with a woman like her, Blake had countless methods; after all, countless girls came looking for him downstairs at the company every day. But I never imagined that I, too, would become a target of his revenge. I arrived home from my studio to find Delilah kneeling at my doorstep, drawing stares and whispers from passersby. I avoided her gaze, walked straight to my door, and started to open it. Just as I was about to close it, she violently slammed her hand against the doorframe.
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