C05
7:14 PM C
Caught My Husband Dating His First
- 05.
6
As soon as I entered the living room, Mason struggled to stand up from the sofa. His ankle was in a cast and a
small suitcase sat at his feet. I spoke softly, “What are you doing here?”
The already tense atmosphere thickened, making the room feel hard to breathe in. Mason’s fingers fidgeted along the seam of his jeans and soon, his nails began to turn red from pressure-a sign of his anxiety.
In the past, I would have gently taken his hand to distract him from this nervous habit. But he waited and waited and I didn’t approach him like before.
Finally, he averted his gaze to the shrine beside the television, clenching his jaw as he mumbled, “I’m injured. The doctor said I need your care to get better.”
What a silly lie. Sitting in a nearby armchair, I replied, “I know your father forced you to come. Don’t worry, I won’t wander around and inconvenience you.”
Surprisingly, Mason quickly shook his head, speaking urgently, “I came on my own.”
I paused for a moment, then calmly replied, “No matter whose idea it was, you should understand that your father and I have decided to separate. He has custody of you and from now on, you and he are the true family.”
Before I even finished, Mason turned to look at me, his young eyes filled with confusion and disbelief. “But you’re
my mom!”
Seeing my indifferent expression and my silence, he stubbornly frowned, adding, “Legally, I will always be your
son.”
Yes, he is my biological son. I once gave him all the love I could. But he didn’t deserve any of it.
“Mason, do you remember how you introduced me at last year’s awards ceremony?”
Mason had won the International Math Olympiad in the junior category and was named Student of the Year. The school had informed me ahead of time, arranging for me to present his award at the ceremony. To avoid embarrassing Mason, I had gone to a high-end salon, spending hours making myself presentable.
Just as I entered the auditorium, about to shake his teacher’s hand, Mason arrived with Michelle, introducing her as “my mother, Michelle.” When the teacher looked at me with confusion, Mason stared at me with disdain and
said, “Aunt Shannon, please remember your place. You’re just the cook at our house. In the future, try not to dress so flashily and embarrass us.”
Michelle ended up presenting Mason’s award that day and they posed together in a warm embrace. The photo still sat on Quincy’s desk in his office.
In the living room, Mason’s face grew visibly pale. I continued, “Mason, I know you’ve always been ashamed of me, feeling I’m unfit to be your mother. So I’m making it clear now: I, Shannon White, am not your mother and you, Mason Smith, are no longer my son. Just as you’ve said before, your last name is Smith and mine is White. From now
on, we have no connection.”
