Mom's Sudden Stroke, Dad's Busy with His Mistress at Disneyland

During a video call, my mother suddenly collapsed due to a stroke.

I called 120 and then, crying, I called my father.

But it was a sweet, delicate woman who answered the phone. "You've called over a dozen times and he still won't pick up. Isn't it time you took a hint?"

My mom fought in the ICU for three days, but she didn't survive long enough to see my father. She passed away, filled with bitterness.

Later, at my mom's funeral, my own father knelt down, begging me not to report him.

***

As usual, after dinner, I made a video call to my mom.

But we hadn't talked for more than two minutes before she suddenly had a heart attack and collapsed.

I panicked, immediately dialing 120, and then I called my dad.

On the nineteenth attempt, the call finally connected.

But it wasn't my dad's voice on the other end. It was a woman's. "You've called over a dozen times, and your dad didn't answer. Maybe you should get a clue."

"My mom's not going to make it, get my dad—" I cried out.

Before I could finish, she cut me off.

"If she's not going to make it, call 120. What good is your dad going to do? Is he a doctor?!"

Then came the sound of a beep—she hung up.

Despair washed over me.

No one can imagine how I endured the 1,300 kilometers, rushing back from out of town to be by my mother's side.

She struggled in the ICU for three whole days, but never got to see my dad.

On the other end of the phone, all I heard was the cold, mechanical voice. "The number you have dialed is currently unavailable. Please try again later."

After I cremated my mother alone, I took her ashes home.

Sitting in the empty house, I stared at the social media post from my father's mistress' son, falling silent.

It was a picture of the three of them having a wonderful time at Disneyland.

My father, smiling so brightly, had his arms around the mistress and her child.

He had never taken me to Disneyland, yet here he was, eager to bring someone else's child.

Maybe in the past, I would have cried, but now, I felt at peace.

My mother was gone; what was there to be bitter about?

I let out a cold laugh and tossed my phone aside.

Now I was just curious—if they came back to find they had nothing left, would they still be able to smile?

My mother had already written her will, leaving all her property and savings to me.

My mind wandered back to my mother's final moments—her pain and helplessness.