In my past life, I accidentally found out that my son had secretly googled: “What are the chances of my mom dying of a sudden stroke while tutoring me?” Later, he actually did anger me to the point of having a massive brain hemorrhage right on the spot. He just stood there, cold and indifferent, watching me twitch on the floor. He didn’t even call 91 In this life, I was reborn right at the moment he scored a miserable 10% on his math test. He slammed the paper onto my chest with a smug grin. “Mom, I got the lowest score in class again.” 1 My son, Leo, threw the test paper at me. Then, he grabbed a banana, flopped onto the sofa, and started munching on it. He threw the banana peel carelessly onto the hardwood floor. He chewed with his mouth open, looking at me sideways. “Mom, are you mad?” In my past life, this would have driven me insane. I would have lectured him until I was blue in the face about the importance of grades, and then dragged him to the table to correct every single mistake. But now? I was not going to let myself get angry enough to die early again. I casually tossed the test paper onto the coffee table and said flatly, “Leo, since you scored so low, it just proves you have absolutely no talent for academics. What’s the point of me getting mad?” I pointed at the banana peel on the floor. “Since you can’t study, you’d better start doing more chores. That way, you won’t grow up to be completely useless.” With his mouth stuffed with banana, his eyes went wide in disbelief. “Mom, you’re really not mad?” I couldn’t be bothered to look at him. “By the way, I’m not cooking tonight. Go make yourself some instant noodles.” In my past life, I was obsessed with his grades and his health. I spent every single day planning three nutritious meals, racking my brain to keep him healthy. And what did he do? He picked at his food and complained constantly. He even hated me because I didn’t allow him to eat potato chips, hot dogs, cupcakes, burgers, and instant ramen. Behind my back, he called me a “wrinkly old witch.” Now, he was chewing lazily, lying on the sofa without moving an inch. “Mom, didn’t you say instant noodles are poison?” “Besides, I don’t know how to cook. Go make it for me, Mom. Put in two hot dogs, lots of melted cheddar, and some bacon bits.” I ignored his demands, walked straight into my bedroom, and locked the door behind me. With a loud *thud*, my son let out a dramatic wail from the living room. “Mom! Mom! I slipped and fell! It hurts so bad! Come and help me up!” I just put on my AirPods, turned up the music, and ordered some takeout. A few minutes later, he started banging on my door. “Mom! Open the door! My leg is bruised! Take me to the ER right now!” The ER? In my past life, when he angered me into having a stroke, I had collapsed on the floor and pleaded with him. “Leo, Mom can’t move. Please, call 911.” My son had looked at me with pure coldness. He threw all his homework papers onto my face. Then, he picked up his iPad and started playing games as if nothing had happened. “Mom, it’s actually better if you can’t move. That way, you can’t nag me anymore.” My vision had grown blurry. I couldn’t believe my own son was doing this to me. I begged him to give me my phone. I wanted to call 911 myself. But he grabbed my phone and threw it straight into the trash can. He screamed at me in a rage, “Mom, you brought this on yourself! I’m not cut out for school! All you do is force me to study! Do you have any idea how miserable you make my life?” Then he turned around, walked out of the room, and slammed the door. When my husband came home later and asked where I was, my son lied and said he didn’t know. My husband didn’t bother to ask further. By then, I could no longer speak. The loud noise from the TV drowned out the last desperate gasps of air I could manage. In the end, I died in despair on that freezing floor. Outside the door, Leo kept banging. “Mom! Open up! I burned myself! It hurts, Mom!” I turned up the volume on my headphones, watched a funny video on TikTok, and felt lighter than I had in years. Soon, my husband, Marcus, came home. “Leo, how did you get a 10%? Where is your mother? How is she even raising you?” Leo said bitterly, “Mom doesn’t care about me anymore. She said I have no talent for learning.” “What? No talent? She’s getting lazier and lazier!” A heavy pounding shook my bedroom door. “Rachel, open this door! Our son failed his test, and you’re just hiding in here? What kind of mother are you? Instead of helping him study, you lock yourself in to relax?” “Open the door! If you don’t, I’m kicking it down!” How annoying. I finally opened the door. Standing outside was my son with a smug, gloating face, and Marcus, whose face was red with anger. Marcus slammed the test paper against my chest. “Look at this! 10%! How can you just lie in bed and relax with a score like this?” I let the paper flutter to the ground and brushed some imaginary dust off my shirt. “Marcus, I was mad too. But I realized I’m just bad at this. I tutor him every day, and his grades only get worse.” Before he could interrupt, I continued, “Haven’t you always said you’re better than me at everything? Great. You tutor him from now on.” Marcus practically jumped. “I work my ass off out there every day, and you want me to tutor him?! You don’t even have a job! You live in my house, eat my food, and spend my money! All you have to do is help our son with his homework, and you’re complaining about being tired?” He thought he could manipulate me again just because I was a stay-at-home mom. But back then, my career was actually better than his. I was about to get a major promotion when I got pregnant, and the doctor said it was a high-risk pregnancy. I had no choice but to resign. After Leo was born, every time I wanted to go back to work, Marcus found excuses to stop me. And I couldn’t bear to leave my baby. So, year after year, I transformed from a career-driven woman into their unpaid maid. I looked at him with a cold smirk. 2 “Marcus, I can easily go back to work. Even if we take turns, it’s your turn now. Leo is eleven. I’ve tutored him for five years, from first grade to fifth grade.” Marcus’s face darkened. “Rachel, you are thirty-five years old. Do you think finding a job is that easy? Just stay home and take care of our son. Besides, isn’t this what a mother is supposed to do? Go over this test with him right now!” I pushed him aside. “I said no. I’m tired, and I’m done tutoring him. Either do it yourself, or hire a tutor.” This was the first time Marcus had ever seen me stand my ground. In the past, whenever it came to Leo, I was always overly protective. Sometimes, when Marcus wanted to intervene, I wouldn’t let him. I was terrified his quick temper would lead to him hitting our son. And I was the only one who truly understood Leo and could tolerate his terrible habits. Leo had too many distractions. He would study for five minutes, then demand water, snacks, bathroom breaks, or complain about a headache. Marcus would never have the patience for that. But now, I didn’t care anymore. Leo was startled by my attitude, but he knew exactly what kind of man his father was. “Dad, I only want Mom to tutor me,” he said, grabbing my hand tightly. “Mom, I promise I’ll listen this time. I won’t get a 10% again.” Too late. I shook his hand off. He finally started to panic. “Mom, I swear, I won’t play games anymore.” Marcus softened his tone a bit, too. “Alright, the kid promised. Don’t be so dramatic. Go teach him. I’m exhausted after a long day.” Then, like a king returning to his throne, he threw himself onto the sofa and turned on the TV. “By the way, make dinner. I’m starving.” Leo, never learning his lesson, decided to throw gasoline on the fire. “Dad, Mom didn’t make me dinner! She told me to cook instant noodles myself!” Marcus angrily grabbed a banana, took a bite, and threw the peel right on the floor. He was exactly like his son. “Rachel! You let our son eat instant ramen? How irresponsible can you be! He’s always had a weak stomach. Is it because you keep feeding him junk? What kind of mother are you?” I didn’t want to waste my breath listening to them bark. I grabbed my keys and walked straight out of the door. Before I even left the neighborhood, Marcus’s calls started rolling in one after another. They literally couldn’t survive a single minute without me. Too bad. In this life, I was done being a perfect wife and mother. Lying on the comfortable bed in a hotel room, I turned off my phone. For the first time in eleven years, I got a good night’s sleep. I didn’t wake up until noon the next day. The moment I turned on my phone, I saw over ninety missed calls from Marcus and dozens of panicked texts from Leo. Then, there was a missed call from Leo’s school counselor, Mrs. Gable, from early this morning. I sighed and called her back. “Mrs. Rachel, why isn’t Leo at school today?” I froze. For years, I had been the one driving Leo to school. Did Marcus seriously forget to drop him off? But I didn’t bother calling Marcus. I simply told the counselor, “I’m not home right now. Please call his father.” The counselor paused. She clearly didn’t expect this response from me. In the past, whenever she called about Leo, I would drop everything and take full responsibility. I used to call and text her constantly just to check on his progress. “Mrs. Rachel, Leo got a 10% on his math test. It’s the lowest score in the entire school. As parents, you can’t just focus on making money. You need to pay attention to his education. He is in the fifth grade now…” I listened to her lecture patiently, then hung up. A second later, Marcus’s call came through. “Rachel! What the hell is wrong with you? The counselor just called me. Why isn’t Leo at school? Go pick him up and take him there right now. I’m swamped at work.” But over the phone, I could clearly hear a woman’s giggling voice in the background. “Marcus, let’s go to that new sushi place down the street later.” I hung up immediately. Right after, my mother-in-law, Martha, called. “Rachel, Leo just called me crying. He said he hasn’t even eaten breakfast! What is wrong with you? You do nothing all day, and you can’t even take care of one child…” She was so incredibly annoying. To show off his filial piety years ago, Marcus had bought an apartment for his parents in our neighborhood. He made it sound nice, saying they were getting old and living close by would let us take care of each other without any “in-law drama.” At first, I believed him. But later, I realized it was a trap. Whenever they got sick, I was the one running around serving them. But when I got sick and asked them to pick Leo up from school, they made up a million excuses to refuse. Yet, Leo loved them. Because every time I lost my temper while tutoring him, Leo would call his grandmother to complain, and she would immediately take him to her place to coddle him. Once, when I went to pick him up, I heard the old woman talking to him through the door.
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