During the Midsummer Festival, my daughter was on the verge of death.

She had been frail and sickly since childhood, and her biggest wish was to have her biological father, Tom Carr, spend just one birthday with her.

He only agreed after I begged him repeatedly.

On her birthday, he didn't show up, and that night, my daughter passed away with regret.

Afterward, his first love posted a picture of them together. "Only a fool would use a child to bind a man's heart. In his heart, I'm the only one."

Everyone was mocking me.

I coldly commented: [The leash is off; no need to sneak around eating crap anymore.]

***

During the Midsummer Festival, on the night my daughter passed, I remained unusually calm, handling her funeral quietly on my own.

It wasn't surprising that Tom would prioritize the date for River Patel.

In the six years I'd been with Tom, all it took was one call from River, and he would drop everything to be there for her.

Whatever the reason was this time, it no longer mattered.

I quickly packed my bags, left the divorce papers, and prepared to leave.

But just as I was leaving, I saw River getting out of Tom's car.

"Amber Brown, what are you up to now?"

He slammed the car door shut, noticing my packed bags, and his brows furrowed.

His tone made it seem like I was always being unreasonable.

River spoke sweetly, "Amber, are you upset with Tom because of what happened that day? His dog got hurt, and it scared me to tears, so Tom came to help. I didn't know it was your daughter's birthday that day."

Doggie was her dog.

I only felt it was both sad and laughable.

It turns out that, in Tom's heart, our daughter was less important than River's dog.

My daughter had been hospitalized for years, and he rarely visited her, always using work as an excuse.

But he had time to take care of River's dog.

Whether he loved me or not was very clear.

"Tom, let's get a divorce."

The moment my daughter died, any lingering warmth I had for Tom vanished.

But Tom thought I was just angry. "Amber, what kind of game are you playing this time? It was just a birthday, nothing serious. But the dog got hurt, and River is helpless. I couldn't just ignore that."

Just a birthday, nothing serious.

He'd said similar things countless times whenever it involved our daughter.

He never cared about her.

Or perhaps, he despised the child who shared my blood.

I got pregnant after a one-night stand with him years ago; it was an accident.

River had broken up with him and gone abroad, and he was out drinking in a nightclub when we met.

I had secretly admired him and didn't push him away.

After that night, I focused on finishing my thesis and forgot to take the pill. By the time I realized it, I was three months along.

My mother, a gambling shrew, found out I was carrying a powerful man's child and immediately pressured him to marry me.

I was shocked when he agreed and even held a grand wedding.

That period was the happiest time of my life.

I later learned that he only did it to spite River.

If it weren't for my appearance, they would have gotten back together.

Our daughter was diagnosed with hemophilia at birth, a condition that could easily lead to disability or death with the slightest mistake.

This meant I needed to devote significant time and money to care for her.

The only way I could hold onto him was through marriage.

Tom despised me and our child, though he never said it outright.

What could I do?

I had to turn a blind eye, allowing him to run to his first love whenever my daughter and I needed him.

I allowed her to provoke and insult me time and again.

But my tolerance only led to them hurting me more.

I've had enough of living like this!

"You can do whatever you want. It has nothing to do with me." I glanced at him coldly.

Then I grabbed my luggage and was ready to leave.

He seemed to notice something. "You haven't contacted me these past few days. Is our daughter upset about what happened that day? I can explain."

Upset?

Our daughter longed for his affection so much that she wouldn't even dare to be upset with him.

If he had shown any concern for us these past few days, he wouldn't have said something so absurd.

"No need."

I turned around and walked away immediately.

Perhaps because I used to always be humble and eager to please him, I never showed him any cold attitude.

Tom tried to catch up and grab me, but River held him back.

"Tom, this was never your fault. She schemed to get into your bed, forced you into marriage, and kept making the child pretend to be sick."

I somehow mustered up all my strength and slapped River so hard she staggered.

"Ah! Tom, she hit me!"

Tom's expression immediately changed. He helped River and shielded her behind him. "Amber, are you out of your mind!?"

My eyes were bloodshot. "River, I don't care how you slander me, but you will not slander my daughter!"

River looked innocent. "Did I say something wrong? If you hadn't used the child to force Tom into marriage and taught her to fake being sick to restrict Tom's freedom, how could he have ever been with you?"

I looked at Tom coldly. "Is this what you've always thought?"

He didn't say yes, but he didn't deny it either.

Back then, if he hadn't agreed, no one could have forced him.

Our daughter, who was frail and sickly, was so afraid that her father would dislike her that she always felt deeply guilty after getting sick.

I could give her all the motherly love, but I couldn't give her the fatherly love she longed for. I begged Tom, even to the point of bowing, just to get him to look at her a bit more.

And yet, he thought our daughter was pretending, that I had taught her to do it.

Ha.

How ridiculous.

For years, I had been obedient and pleasing to him, and our daughter had been so well-behaved it was heartbreaking. The two of us were pathetically begging, hoping to win back his heart.

In the end, we were just part of his emotional game with his first love.

I looked at Tom with disappointment.

This was the man I had silently loved for seven years.

I suddenly questioned what I ever liked about him.

River took the opportunity to fan the flames. "Tom, my face hurts so much. Is it swollen from the slap?"

I had used all my strength in that slap, and her face was indeed swollen high.

"Amber, apologize!"

It was an order, filled with anger.

"Why should I apologize!?"

"Amber, don't test my limits." He was barely holding back his anger.

In truth, I had always been afraid of upsetting him, so much so that I didn't even dare say an extra word in front of him.

Because I cared about him, and about our daughter.

But now, it didn't matter anymore.

River put on a pretentious look of understanding. "Tom, don't let this cause a rift between us. Is that a knitted Hawaiian silversword plant she's holding? Doggie really likes that flower."

Tom seemed to catch on. "Amber, give that flower to River, and we'll pretend this never happened."

His words felt like charity, as if he was offering me a way out.

But I didn't know how to appreciate it.

I tightly held onto the flower and glared at her. "Don't even think about it."

The Hawaiian silversword plant was my daughter's favorite flower.

She said it could live up to ninety years, only blooming once after sixty years, and she admired the flower's strong vitality.

Sadly, she could only look at pictures of it online. She said the knitted sunflowers others made were beautiful, and how she wished someone could knit a bunch of silverswords for her.

So, I spent days and nights learning how to knit by hand.

I failed countless times, and my fingers were covered with blisters before I finally made it.

My daughter loved hugging it when she slept.

She said she wanted to be as strong as it and to bloom brilliantly in her life.

My daughter was only six years old; she was so adorable and sensible.

But fate played a cruel joke on us.

On the night of her birthday, she was eagerly looking forward to her dad coming to the hospital to celebrate with her. But in her excitement, she accidentally cut her arm on the corner of the cake box, and the bleeding wouldn't stop. She was rushed into the emergency room.

To prevent her from bumping into things, I meticulously covered every corner of the tables, chairs, bed, and walls.

Despite all the precautions, I still overlooked the cake box that Tom had sent.

The doctor shook his head and said her blood clotting was extremely abnormal; they did their best.

In her final moments, she struggled to ask, "Mom, has Dad arrived?"

I hate Tom.

This knitted silver chrysanthemum was my daughter's keepsake. I would never give it to his first love, let alone use it as a toy for a dog. He was simply dreaming!