The night before our wedding anniversary, Kevin walked into a hotel, hand-in-hand with his first love. I dialed his number, but my thirteen-year-old son, Noah, answered instead. “Dad’s in an important business meeting. No outsiders allowed!” Noah said coldly, then hung up. That night, my husband and son decided to punish me. Their reason? I’d supposedly disrupted our ‘family harmony’. They locked me out on the wind-battered open-air balcony, forcing me to stand there all night. I let the wind dry my tears. The next day, despite my high fever, I handed him the divorce papers. In the study. Kevin didn’t even lift an eyelid when he heard the word “divorce,” still engrossed in his work. I waited for him for an hour. Just as I was about to collapse, he finally spoke: “Elara, I just made you stand in the cold for a bit, and now you want a divorce?” “You were in the wrong first. Don’t you deserve to be punished?” I opened my mouth. For the first time, I suppressed the urge to defend myself. I just said: “Sign it.” Kevin calmly stated: “I’ll take custody of our son. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?” Seeing me shake my head, Kevin raised an eyebrow in surprise. But to appear ‘fair,’ he called Noah into the study and asked him: “Who do you want to live with after your mom and I divorce?” Noah was truly Kevin’s son, alright. Not just in looks, but even the way he stared at me – the same arrogant, utterly indifferent gaze. Noah said: “My name is Hamilton, not Johnson.” In the past, hearing those words would have kept me up all night, crying until dawn. But after last night. Any maternal love I had for Noah had completely vanished. I couldn’t even bother to look at him, turning to walk into the bedroom. For thirteen years of marriage, all my energy had been focused on taking care of Kevin and Noah’s every need. As a result, I had pitifully few personal belongings in this house. I finished packing in less than ten minutes. As I dragged my suitcase out of the room, Kevin was sitting on the sofa, checking the stock market. Without turning his head, he said: “Where are you going? I’ll have the driver take you.” “No need.” I fought back the dizziness and discomfort from my fever, struggling towards the front door. Just then, a golf ball flew from the second floor, hitting me hard on the back of the head. The second floor was Noah’s game room. He always practiced indoor golf after finishing his homework. Kevin and Noah exchanged a knowing glance – the kind that said, “She’s just faking it again” – as I clutched my head, curling up on the floor. They left me there, gasping for breath, for half an hour. Finally, drenched in cold sweat, I crawled out of the Hamilton house and went to the hospital alone for an IV drip. After my fever broke, I drowsily boarded a bus to the outskirts of town. Two hours later, I arrived at Grandma Rose’s house. Overjoyed by my sudden appearance, Grandma Rose didn’t ask a single question. She just went straight into the kitchen and cooked me a big pot of mushroom soup. When Noah was little, he loved mushroom soup just like me. Sometimes, after eating too much, he’d whine and demand to be held. Around six or seven, some kid in the Hamilton family told Noah: “Mushrooms? Oh, those are just cheap, unsophisticated food. Only poor people eat them.” After that, Noah stopped letting me bring home the mushrooms Grandma Rose grew herself. “Uh, uh.” I was eating too fast, clutching my chest, desperately trying to stop hiccuping. Every wrinkle on Grandma Rose’s face creased with laughter. “Such a silly child.” To make it easier for me to eat, her shaky, wrinkled hands smoothed my tangled blonde hair and braided it into the pigtails I loved as a child. That night, after years of insomnia, I finally had a peaceful night’s sleep. I knew I was finally home. Two days later, I received a call from Kevin. His voice was cold as he asked: “Where’s the suit I had custom-made in Italy last year?” I instinctively told him the exact location and suggested he pair it with the tie in the far-left compartment of the drawer. I heard the rustle of clothes from Kevin’s end.
When he spoke again, there was a hint of awkward approval in his voice: “It looks decent. I’ll wear this to the dinner party tonight.” He paused, then added: “Send me your address. I’ll have someone deliver the jewelry I had made for our anniversary.” I refused: “No need. Briar and I have different tastes.” Briar was Kevin’s first love. Ever since she returned to the country and became Kevin’s personal assistant, she managed everything around him, from his big travel plans to the smallest gift choices. Kevin’s tone turned frigid when I mentioned Briar: “Who do you think you are? How dare you compare yourself to Briar?” I let out a silent chuckle, saying nothing. Kevin was left speechless by my words. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I continued: “Please have Briar arrange a time for you as soon as possible. Just text me once the date is confirmed. No need to call again.” I was about to hang up, but Kevin quickly changed the subject: “Noah’s right here. He wants to say a few words to you.” Before Noah could even open his mouth, I pressed the off button on my phone. Just as quickly and decisively as Noah had blocked me on SnapChat that day. I put down my phone and held Grandma Rose’s hand, watching a movie with her. A week flew by in a blink. While waiting for someone at a hotel, I received a call from an unknown number. It was Noah’s school counselor. He said Noah had gotten into a fight with a classmate at school. The argument started because the other student had heard rumors and, in front of the entire class, asked Noah about the reason for his parents’ divorce. I said: “It’s not a rumor. Noah’s father and I are indeed divorced. Custody of the child isn’t with me. Please contact his father to handle this matter.” After I finished speaking, the counselor sounded awkward as he explained that Noah would only give them my number. So, I had no choice but to ask the counselor to put the phone on speakerphone. In front of the injured student and his parents, I calmly told Noah: “You were wrong to hit someone. When you make a mistake, you admit it, isn’t that the principle you and your father always believed in? Also, whether it’s your father or you, no matter what happens in the future, please don’t call me again. Noah, you need to understand, we have nothing to do with each other anymore.” With that, I hung up, and while setting my phone to ‘do not disturb,’ I waved with a smile at my best friend Chloe and her daughter, Zoe. When I was pregnant with Noah, I always dreamed the baby would be a girl. Yet, even though he was a boy, I still cherished Noah and raised him with all my heart. Before he was six, Noah would plant little trees in the backyard for the cartoon cat that died. He would also secretly hide a small red flower after preschool, then discreetly place it behind my ear when I wasn’t looking. Later, Kevin started taking Noah to the family mansion frequently. After Noah turned eight, he stopped crying, and he rarely smiled. He started complaining that Grandma Rose’s house wasn’t as modern as the city’s skyscrapers. He told me: “You grew up in a place like this? No wonder Grandma always looked down on you.” Zoe, Chloe’s daughter, brought me back to reality by offering a bite of her cheesecake. Seeing me eat the cake, Chloe said: “Now that you’ve eaten, you have to promise to come to her competition.”
I put an arm around Zoe’s shoulder and smiled: “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely be there.” Over a month later, on a Friday. Kevin and I unexpectedly ran into each other on the school track field. Briar stood beside Kevin. She clung to his arm and greeted me first. “Elara, long time no see. Alex didn’t say you’d be here.” Alex was the president of the school’s track and field club, and he definitely had a race today. But I wasn’t here for him. Seeing me ignore Briar and walk straight to the spectator stands, Kevin belatedly pulled Briar’s hand away and followed, his voice dripping with sarcasm: “Elara, didn’t you say you were cutting ties with our son? What are you doing here, embarrassing yourself?” I couldn’t be bothered to waste words on Kevin. I just said: “Please don’t stand next to me. I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.” “Wrong idea about what?” “That we’re still married.” Kevin paused, then his face gradually turned ashen: “Elara, I’m warning you, don’t push it.” I didn’t understand what he meant. At that moment, I was focused on excitedly waving at Zoe on the track. Noah was standing five meters away from Zoe, and I knew he saw me. The boy clearly thought I was waving at him; otherwise, the disgust and contempt on his face wouldn’t have been so obvious. The starting gun fired, and both male and female groups began to run simultaneously. Zoe was surprisingly fast. And Noah, usually a top athlete, stumbled and fell halfway through the race – no one knew why. As soon as the race ended, Kevin and I both rushed towards the track. Kevin was a few steps ahead of me, immediately reaching Noah’s side and sternly asking the school medic about his injury. The medic was about to speak, but Kevin gestured for him to wait. Kevin turned, his face displeased, to look at me, standing not far away, texting on my phone. “Elara, what are you dawdling for? Can’t you see our son is hurt?” Kevin’s reprimand drew glances from the surrounding teachers and students. I put down my phone and stared blankly at Noah, whose lips were ashen. The boy’s knees were scraped and swollen, covered in blood. His left ankle was twisted at an unnatural angle. Noah instinctively reached out to me in pain, his eyes looking helpless. I found it a little funny. What did that have to do with me? As Noah had written in an essay last year, he was a grown man now. He no longer needed a mother like me, who only cooked and cleaned, so mediocre and useless she couldn’t even play a full piano piece, to do anything for him. Under everyone’s gaze, I walked straight past Noah, my face beaming, and embraced Zoe at the girls’ track. “Zoe, you were absolutely amazing! Congratulations on your silver medal. Come on, sweetie, your mom’s car is at the school gate. She said she’s taking us for the seafood feast you’ve been craving!” I walked out of the school gate, feeling light and happy. As soon as I got in the car, Kevin’s call came through. I didn’t intend to answer. But then he sent a text message: [Discussing divorce matters] So, when we arrived at the restaurant, I told Chloe to take her daughter inside, and I’d be there a little later. Two months later, I made the first move to call Kevin. The phone rang for only half a second before his agitated voice came through: “Elara, where are you right now?” “Wherever I am, you can tell me: when exactly do you have time to finalize the divorce?” Kevin fell silent for a moment, then deliberately softened his tone: “Come to the hospital first. Noah is seriously injured. He might not be able to compete again. The doctors need to talk to us about it.”
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