My Son's Death, His Cruel Betrayal

tal

sed to make him that soup even when I was sick, even when my hands trembled from exhaustion. I used to l

nd I couldn't care less.

? What do you want from me? You're suffocating me with

what you call it? All those times I asked for your attention, for your time, for your simple presence, and you t

ture. He remembered all the times he had brushed me off, telling me to "handle it myself," calling my concerns "petty" compare

the words heavy with a misplaced certainty. "I know, Krystal. I know I messed up.

forehead. It felt like nothing. A ghost of

ting the seconds, until I heard the d

ed from the floor, buzzed. It

Your divorce application has been finalized. Y

lmost immediately.

to launch. We'll be sending a team to pick you u

moil inside. "I'll be ready. Please arrange for the pick-up at

r, meticulously, for months. The day I finally broke free. But before I left, th

d by a grim determination. I grabbed the crutches the nurse had left for

mirk on her face. Gone was the fragile, sweet fa

e?" she sneered. "Jonathan is mine now, Krystal.

t your childish games of possession, Hailey," I said, my voice barely a

my gut. "Intentionally? Oh, Krystal, you wouldn't believe

eeth, my knuckles white on the

per, savoring every word. "Jonathan... he was actually ther

t slammed against my ribs,

leasure. "But he didn't jump in immediately, did he? No. He saw me panicki

nd violent. The sterile hospital room warped into a slaughterhouse, the white walls splattere

th through the dust and grime on my cheek. T

ve hardening into steel. I turned, pushing myself on my crutches, my head

t sat there, waiting. At precisely 9 AM, I walked in, my divorce certificate in h

jeep, dark and imposing, pull

ed conversation with Hailey, along with a detailed report I had meticulously prepared. I dropp

in, my heart feeling lighter tha