The moment Brenda saw Cameron, she ran to him to take his bag and drink, completely forgetting that she was the senior flight attendant. She only ran back to the cabin door to shut it after he'd settled down in his first-class seat.

The plane finally took off, half an hour after I'd boarded with Timmy. We landed two hours later, at which point Timmy had long since lost consciousness.

The moment the plane halted, I picked Timmy up and started to run to the cabin door. However, Brenda stopped me. "Hold it. Our first-class passengers need to disembark first. It's the airline company's policy."

She stretched out her arms, refusing to let me pass.

I cried out, "Brenda Johnson! This is your son!"

I wanted her to realize the severity of the situation, but all that did was anger her.

"I'm at work, and I'm the senior flight attendant for this flight! I have to be responsible for my passengers!" She shoved me aside to let the first-class passengers leave the plane first. Only then did she begrudgingly let me pass.

The ambulance was already waiting outside, and the medical personnel immediately hooked Timmy up to oxygen. Brenda didn't join me in the ambulance, though. She remained at her station.

…

When the lights outside the operating theater went off, Timmy was wheeled out with his eyes shut. He looked nothing like his usual adorable, energetic self.

"I'm sorry, but we did our best. You missed the best window for treatment. If only you'd been here ten minutes earlier…" The doctor sighed, feeling glum that an otherwise healthy child would be bedridden from now on.

My ears buzzed at his words, and my vision went black for a moment. I couldn't imagine Timmy being in a coma for the rest of his life.

I reached out to hold his hand as I watched him lie motionlessly on the hospital bed. I pried open his clenched fist to find a small action figure there. It was the first gift Brenda had gotten him after he'd started kindergarten.

It turned out he had it with him everywhere he went.

I blamed myself for this. It was my fault for failing to protect him. I was wracked with guilt, knowing that I hadn't gotten him the medical treatment he needed in time.

…

After settling things with Timmy, I called Brenda. However, all I got was a brush-off.

"I don't have time to be there. You don't do anything at home anyway, so why can't you care for Timmy? Do I have to be there to do everything? I'm busy with work, unlike you! You just hang around at home like a bum!" she said.

She was the one who'd begged me to quit my high-paying job, claiming that she wanted me to enjoy life and stop fretting over money. Yet now, she was twisting the truth and making it seem like she had to work her butt off to put food on the table while I lazed around at home.

"Can you say such things without them weighing down on your consicence, Brenda? Timmy is in a coma, and you can't even bother to come see him! And you call yourself his mother?" I retorted, clearly enraged.

It took all of my strength. I couldn't understand why a mother didn't care about her child at all.

However, I got my answer in the next second. It wasn't that she had no love for children—she just loved someone else's child.

I heard a little girl calling for Brenda on the other end of the line. It was Josie Lynch, Cameron's daughter.

As I listened to Brenda coo at her and wish her happy birthday, I realized she was prioritizing celebrating her goddaughter's birthday over being at the hospital with Timmy.

After a long while, I said calmly, "Brenda, let's get a divorce."

Brenda didn't get mad as I expected her to, though. She just hung up without another word.

In that instant, the five years we'd shared together came crumbling down. I laughed self-deprecatingly at the thought of the marriage I'd tried so hard to keep together. It was now the most fragile thing in the world, shattering upon impact as glass would.

Since she had given up on our marriage, I didn't see any need to go easy on her. My first step would be to take back the house that belonged to me.

The moment I entered the house, I saw woven bags filled with plastic bottles stacked by the shoe cabinet. Cardboard boxes also littered the ground.

I knew my mother-in-law, Linda Beech, loved picking up trash. She would collect anything that was worth something, and the new house I'd bought had turned into her store room for trash.

The more I saw, the angrier I got. I kicked the bags aside, and toys fell out.

"Why did you touch my stuff? Do your eyes grow on the back of your head, or have you gone blind?" Linda screeched, as obnoxious as always.

She never missed the chance to grab even the smallest benefit. Before Brenda and I had gotten married, Linda had greedily demanded I pay 500 thousand dollars in wedding gifts, along with providing property and a car. She even insisted that I pay for them in full and put them under her name.

It was a shame that I'd been so blinded by Brenda's sweet-talk at the time to practise any logical thinking. I'd agreed to all of Linda's demands without hesitation.

Fortunately, I'd had the foresight to protect myself. Despite transferring the house to Linda's name, I'd had everything legally notarized as mine. If I wanted to take it back, no one would be able to keep it from me.

"Why did you take Timmy's toys? Who allowed you to do that?" I couldn't believe she'd turned a lovely home into a junkyard.

Linda flew off the handle when she heard my displeased tone. "They're just a few toys—they wouldn't even fetch anything at the junkyard! And how dare you lose your temper at me? I knew Brenda's spoiled you. I should never have let her marry you!"

"You think your daughter would listen to you when she's nothing but a cheater who sides with outsiders? She doesn't even want her own kid! Timmy is in a coma, yet she wants nothing more than to be with her lover! I was blind to have married her!" I said.

With that, I turned to head to my room to get the property deed and notarization documents.

Linda stood in my way, her spit landing on my face as she screeched, "This is my house now! Get the hell out of here!"

I flung her aside at the thought of her and Brenda's horrible behavior. I wanted to charge straight to the bedroom.

Just then, Brenda came in and saw me push Linda away. She ran over to me and slapped me hard across the face.

She snapped, "How could you hit my mother, Harry? Are you a rabid dog or something? How dare you come here and stir up trouble?"

"You have time to visit your mother, but you don't have time to be with your son? Do you know Timmy's still in the hospital, Brenda?" I snarled while pointing at her.

She snorted. "It's just an allergic reaction, isn't it? It's not like he hasn't been given medical attention. All children fall sick. Why is he more fragile than others? He's a boy, too. Josie doesn't fall sick at all. He only has himself to blame for being weak!"

She was Timmy's mother, yet she could say such callous words about him. She didn't care about him or pity him at all.

"Is that all you can say now that our son is in a coma?" I couldn't even bring myself to say that he would never stand before me again when he'd been so active just the day before.

Brenda snorted again. "Don't think you can fool me. I won't believe your lies. Josie already told me that she just wanted to give Timmy a pretty flower. Who would've known that an allergy that hasn't acted up in years would suddenly relapse at that moment? It's not like she did it on purpose!"

I suddenly realized that Cameron was probably the one who'd orchestrated this whole thing.

I didn't waste my breath arguing with them and sneaked the documents I needed out of the house while Brenda and Linda were distracted. I hurried back to the hospital with them.

My heart settled back in my chest as I looked at Timmy, who was still unconscious. A nurse came to adjust his IV, and she told me about the things I needed to pay attention to.

She said there was a chance of coma patients regaining consciousness, but it would take their family's care and support for that to happen. She asked about Timmy's mother.

I hardened my heart and told her his mother was dead. Rather than tell everyone that Timmy had a mother who didn't care about him at all, I would prefer it if they all thought she was dead.