After My Son Died

I had an asthma attack and ended up in the hospital. While lying there, I called my husband and asked him to pick up our son from kindergarten.

But my husband dropped off our son halfway and just sent me a message asking me to pick him up.

Grasping the IV drip, I hurried over, breathless and desperate. Sadly, it was too late.

When I saw my son's small, lifeless body lying on the riverbank, I collapsed in tears, fainting on the spot.

When I regained consciousness, I saw my husband's old flame, flaunting their affection on social media.

[I just said I was sad, and he dropped everything to be with me. He's truly... oh, I'm deeply moved!]

The picture showed a sweet scene of my husband and Avery hugging her pet dog.

Struggling to breathe, I called my husband.

"Is this why you dropped of your son?" I asked.

My husband's cold voice came from the phone.

"It's not a big deal for you to pick up our son, but Avery can't live without me!"

——

Despair washed over me as I hung up and turned off my phone.

Reflecting on the ten years I spent with Julian Anderson, I realized that none of it compared to his childhood sweetheart, Avery Moore, who he had been longing for.

Suddenly, my love for him over the past decade seemed like a cruel joke.

Julian and I met during our freshman year.

Back then, he was sunny, handsome and full of talent.

He was the most dazzling presence in every girl's eyes.

I was practically groveling to get his attention, pursuing him for a whole year until he finally gave in.

Not long after we got together, I found out that he had a childhood sweetheart in his heart that he could never get.

We fought about it, and I cried, but his response was always the same, cold and mocking.

"If you don't like her, just go away. I'm not the one pestering you."

Every time he said that, I would bite back my tears, swallowing my pride.

I loved him and I couldn't live without him. I tried to convince myself that he only saw her as a sister and there was no need for me to be jealous.

I endured her calls that could summon him away at any moment.

I endured hearing him whisper her name in his sleep.

Even after I got married and became pregnant with our son, I endured.

Morning sickness left me unable to eat anything, and I asked him to get me some donuts from the shop nearby.

He made excuses, saying I wouldn't die if I waited until tomorrow, then went to sleep in the guest room.

Yet, when Avery called in the middle of the night, he rushed over to her place, claiming he was there to kill cockroaches for her.

On the night I gave birth to our son, he was fixing her water pipes.

I handled everything myself, big and small, never daring to ask for his help.

From my pregnancy to our son's birth, and even his school enrollment, I managed it all alone.

All he did was contribute a bit of genetic material, and he got to call himself a father.

If my asthma attack hadn't been so severe today, I would never have asked him to pick up our son.

It was the first and only time I ever asked him to pick up our child, and he left him halfway!

The little river beside the highway took my son's life.

My poor little boy, he was only five years old!

This morning, he had sweetly called his father "Good Daddy" before we left the house.

But now, he lay cold and lifeless before me, his body swollen beyond recognition.

What despair must he have felt?

I no longer had any expectations for Julian.

Cradling my son's cold body, I didn't inform Julian. I buried our son by myself.

Sitting by his grave, I quietly stared at his smiling photograph on the tombstone.

"Joseph, my dear son, find a better father in your next life."

Wiping the tears from my face, I wandered back to the hospital, lost and broken.