Our wedding anniversary also happens to be our son's birthday. A month in advance, I carefully plan a family trip for the three of us—me, my husband, and our son.

But right before we're supposed to leave, both of them suddenly disappear on me.

I'm left standing alone in the pouring rain, dialing their numbers.

On the other end, my son's young voice comes through, sounding cold and impatient. "Dad's having dinner with Ms. Moore. We don't want to go anymore."

The call ends, and I'm blocked.

Later that night, they intentionally lock me out of the house. I'm left standing in the freezing cold all night long.

Soaked from the rain, I come down with a high fever and develop pneumonia.

Meanwhile, my husband and son are off vacationing with Sophia Moore, smiling for a happy family photo with just the three of them.

And in that moment, I know this marriage has truly come to an end.

When I woke up, the sharp scent of disinfectant filled my nose. Every inch of my body ached, and a heavy grogginess weighed me down.

A nurse informed me that I had collapsed on my front doorstep the night before. It was a neighbor who found me and brought me to the hospital.

Out of nowhere, my son, Jackson Walker's voice, rang in my mind. "Ms. Moore." He was referring to Sophia Moore—my husband, Mason Walker's, first love.

It was midday, and the ward was alive with occasional bursts of laughter and conversation from other patients and their families. But at the foot of my bed, there was only emptiness.

After sitting in silence for what felt like an eternity, I decided to call Mason. As always, he didn't answer.

I scrolled through my social media feed, only to find his latest post. It read, "A once-in-a-lifetime family trip with the one I love."

In the photo, Mason and Sophia had their arms around Jackson. They smiled brightly at the camera, their fingers forming a heart. They looked like the perfect family of three.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. It would be a lie to say I wasn't hurt, but moments like this had become so common that I'd grown numb to the ache.

I even hit "like" on the post before putting my phone down.

In the days that followed, I stayed in the hospital while Mason and Jackson were off traveling with Sophia.

On the day I was discharged, I packed my things quietly and returned home alone. As I opened the door, I heard Mason and Jackson laughing from inside. They were sitting on the couch, surrounded by lavishly wrapped, expensive gifts.

The moment they saw me, their faces hardened. Their demeanor was cold and indifferent, as if I were a stranger to them.

In the past, I would have pretended everything was fine and made the effort to break the ice and start a conversation. But now, I was completely drained, both physically and emotionally. I had no strength left, no desire to make an effort.

Mason sat there, one leg crossed over the other, staring at me with a look of contempt.

"Athena Thornton, where have you been fooling around?

"You've been gone for days without saying a single word, and now you just stroll back in? Is this what you call being a good mother?"

His words took me by surprise. He must have been too caught up with Jackson and Sophia to notice the countless missed calls from me.

But when had it ever been any different? It was always his fault, yet I was the one who ended up with all the blame.

I had no energy left to argue. What was the point?

When I remained silent, Mason immediately assumed I was just throwing another senseless tantrum. He shot me a disdainful look and said, "Damn it, Athena. What are you complaining about now?

"So what if Jackson and I didn't go on the trip with you? Is it really that big of a deal?"

But it was a big deal.

"It was only because Sophia invited Jackson and me to dinner that we missed the flight. She's all alone here. I was just keeping her company. What's wrong with that? You're a woman, too. Can't you try to see things from someone else's perspective for once?"

But wasn't I all alone, too? My parents had been gone for years. Hadn't I been just as isolated, just as lonely?

Looking at the man I had loved for so long, all I felt was an unbearable distance between us. Ten years of devotion, and it had all been for nothing.

Even Jackson had started to take Mason's side, his contempt for me clear as day. "Mom, you're so petty. You're nothing like Ms. Moore. She's generous and kind. Look at all these gifts she gave me!

"You only know how to make Dad unhappy. I don't like you anymore!

"I want Ms. Moore to be my mom!"

This was the son I had loved and protected, the one I had cradled in my arms, terrified he might fall. Yet, in the end, I meant less to him than a complete stranger.

How absurd.

Hearts, after all, were made of flesh. When wounded too many times, they eventually grew numb.

Since Mason and Jackson both despised me so openly, I figured I'd give them exactly what they wanted. Without a second thought, I pulled the divorce papers from my bag and placed them in front of Mason.

"Let's get a divorce."

I then turned to Jackson, who was pouting stubbornly.

"That way, you'll finally have the mom you want."

Mason and Jackson sat on the couch, completely unfazed by my words. If anything, they regarded me as if I were the one making a fuss.

"Athena, do you really have to be so dramatic?

"You were the one who messed up in the first place. We only asked that you spend one night outside to think it over. What was so unreasonable about that?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Mason said it so casually, as if it were nothing. It seemed like he had completely forgotten how brutally cold the weather could get during this time of year.

I had waited for hours in a torrential downpour, standing outside in the freezing cold all night. In the end, I came down with a high fever that turned into pneumonia.

A kind stranger took me to the hospital. If not for them, I might not have survived.

I forced a calm expression, shaking my head with a wry, bitter smile. "There's nothing left to say. Just sign the papers."

At that, a flicker of surprise flashed across Mason's face. He had always been the one to bring up divorce during our arguments. When had I ever been the one to take the first step?

He asked, "Athena, do you realize what you're doing?"

The remnants of my fever left me feeling drained, but I forced myself to speak with conviction. "I know exactly what I'm doing. This marriage is over. There's no point in pretending anymore."

Used to getting his way, Mason couldn't hold back his anger when he saw my determination. His face flushed with rage as he snapped, "Fine! You want a divorce? Let's do it!"

He grabbed the divorce papers and tossed them in my face. "Listen to me, Athena. A woman like you was never good enough for me. Without money or power, let's see how long you survive without me.

"And don't even think about taking Jackson. Custody of him belongs to me. I won't let him grow up trapped in the same miserable life you're heading toward."

Just then, Jackson rushed over and clung to Mason's leg, his voice ringing out, "Only someone as gentle and kind as Ms. Moore deserves to be Dad's wife. She plays the piano and teaches me how to swim, unlike you, who can't do anything!

"You're never going to be my mom again. Get out of our house!"

His face was a mirror of mine, and every word he spat at me felt like a dagger to the heart.

In the past, hearing something like that would've broken me. I would've cried until I couldn't breathe. But now, only one thought consumed me—this mother-son bond was finished.

"You don't have to worry. I won't fight you for custody." Turning to Jackson, I said firmly, "You're not my son anymore. Choose whoever you want to call 'Mom'."

Without looking back, I walked straight to the bedroom to pack my belongings. I didn't have much—just a few changes of clothes. That was all I had left.

For years, everything in my life had centered around Mason and Jackson. Their happiness was mine. I had nearly forgotten who I was in the process.

I sacrificed everything for our family, hoping to hold us together. But to them, I was nothing more than an afterthought.

I once thought that sincerity would be met with the same in return. How naive I had been.

Before I left, I removed the ring from my finger and placed it on the bedside table. It had been on my finger for ten years—ten years that felt like a prison.

But now, I was free at last.

As I picked up my bags to leave, Mason and Jackson were completely absorbed in a video call. A woman's voice drifted through the speaker. "Jackson, have you been a good boy today? I'll bring you the teddy bear you asked for tomorrow."

The voice belonged to Sophia.

"You're the best, Ms. Moore! I can't wait to see you tomorrow!" Jackson answered eagerly, his voice bright and cheerful.

Mason's expression was filled with warmth and affection, the picture of a loving husband. It starkly contrasted with the arrogant, domineering man he had been just moments ago.

"Sophia, don't spoil Jackson too much. We don't want him turning into a brat."

For a moment, the entire house was filled with their joyful laughter. Once again, I was the outsider.

But it didn't matter anymore. After all the hurt I'd endured, the love I once had for them had been drained dry.

Dizziness washed over me, and I knew it was time to go. This time, I left without a second thought. And I did so quietly, without leaving a single trace behind.

I returned to the apartment I had purchased before getting married. There, I started to settle into a life on my own.

I didn't have much—this apartment was the only valuable possession I owned.

At one point, I had planned to leave it to Jackson. To me, it felt like the most tangible expression of a mother's love.

But everything shifted with one careless remark from Sophia. "How could Jackson possibly live in a place this old and rundown? It's hardly worthy of someone who's the heir to the Walker family."

Having grown up surrounded by luxury, Jackson didn't hesitate to agree. He threw a tantrum, outright refusing to accept the apartment. "I don't want to live in some rundown place. I want to live in Dad's villa!"

My heart shattered to see him throw such a fit.

Mason quickly pulled Jackson into his arms, soothing him gently. "Don't cry, Jackson. I would never make you live in a place like that."

Shooting me a cold glare, he snapped, "Athena, what do you think you're doing? Why would you want Jackson to live in a rundown place like yours?

"Do you want him to grow up to be a good-for-nothing, just like you?"

I couldn't understand how my genuine love for Jackson had been twisted into something so unforgivable in their eyes.

I swallowed my words, forcing a bitter smile. In the end, I told them I wouldn't transfer the property after all.

At the time, I kept telling myself that Jackson was just being immature, speaking without thinking. I convinced myself that I shouldn't let such things affect us.

But if he truly loved me as his mother, how could he say something so heartless?

Looking back, the signs had been there all along. I just hadn't recognized them in time.

Freed from the constant rush of daily responsibilities, I finally had the chance to focus on myself. I took my time to cook a meal I actually enjoyed, and then settled in to watch a concert I had been wanting to see for ages. These were the things I never had the chance to savor before.

Mason was all about spicy food, while Jackson couldn't have seafood because of his allergies. As for me, I couldn't handle spice at all, but seafood was my absolute favorite.

Back then, I was constantly focused on fulfilling everyone else's needs, never pausing to consider my own, always mindful of others' feelings while completely ignoring mine.

Suddenly, a sharp ringtone broke my train of thought. I glanced at my phone—Mason was calling.

I hesitated for a moment, tempted to block his number. But I knew his temper. If I didn't answer now, another call would come soon after. It was better to just get it over with.

"What's the matter?"

After a brief pause, Mason reluctantly asked, "Where did you put the tie I had custom-made last month?"

I thought for a moment before responding, "In the second-to-last drawer of the walk-in closet."

Once Mason found what he was looking for, his mood lifted. "If you weren't the only one who knows where everything is in this house, I wouldn't have bothered calling," he said smugly.

I didn't respond, preparing to hang up. But he wasn't finished.

"Alright. Once you're done with your little tantrum, come back home quickly. My patience only stretches so far.

"Jackson barely ate tonight. He didn't like the housekeeper's cooking. Doesn't it hurt you to see our son like that?

"And besides—"

Before he could finish, I interrupted coldly, "Mason, tonight I'll make sure the housekeeper knows where everything important is in the house.

"From now on, don't call me again. Whatever happens to Jackson is no longer my concern. I don't want to hear about it.

"And just to be clear—I wasn't bluffing about the divorce. This is the end. We're done."