C06.

Having spoken my mind, I stood up and walked to the door, leaning against the frame as I told Mason to leave. “Once you walk out, don’t come back. This home doesn’t welcome strangers.”

Hearing this, his hands began to tremble as he clenched his fists, stubbornly refusing to leave. Seeing his reaction, I returned to the living room, grabbed his collar with one hand and his suitcase with the other and dragged him outside without a second thought.

“Mom! Wait, my leg… it hurts!” he cried in pain. Ignoring his pleas, I shoved him out the door.

Just as I threw his suitcase at him, Quincy emerged from behind a large tree with a grave expression. His voice trembled slightly as he said, “Shannon, our son has been having nightmares every night. He misses you and really needs you. Can’t you let him stay here for a few days?”

Without hesitation, I replied, “No.”

Caught My Husband Dating His First Love

At that moment, Mason spotted Cassie peeking from the kitchen. In a resentful tone, he asked, “How come she, an outsider, can stay here while I can’t? I’m your real son…”

I looked down at Mason, irritated and replied, “What makes you think you can be compared to my precious oddaughter? Cassie not only can stay here but can live here as long as she wants. As for you, how many times must I tell you, Mason?”

Pausing to emphasize each word, I said clearly, “I don’t want you anymore. From the moment you chose to go with your father, you stopped being my son.”

Mason stared at me blankly and, for the first time since he was seven, tears filled his eyes, unable to hold back any longer.

After a long silence, Quincy finally helped Mason to his feet and couldn’t resist asking in a low voice, “Shannon, why are you being so heartless to him?”

In response, I firmly closed the front door.

That night, it stormed with rain and lightning. Quincy’s car stayed parked on the muddy path behind the tree. Grandma, holding an umbrella and flashlight, tried to bring Mason a warm blanket. But I intercepted her, gently guiding her back to her room.

The next morning, an unusually anxious Quincy knocked on the door, pleading with me to check on Mason. He explained that Mason had developed a high fever overnight, vomiting and feeling severely ill. Grandma, whose hearing had worsened, hadn’t noticed the noise and I had put earplugs in for both Cassie and myself, so we slept through the night undisturbed.

When I woke around noon and saw that Quincy’s car was gone, I cheerfully hummed a tune, taking Cassie back to Grandma’s greenhouse to continue our harvesting.

When I later dropped Cassie off at school, she happily shared her freshly picked fruits with her dorm friends, a group of lively girls who rarely got to leave the city.

“Is this blueberry? It’s so big and it’s sweeter than the ones at the store!” one of them exclaimed.

Cassie proudly responded, “My godmother used to be a graduate student in agricultural science. Only at my great-grandmother’s place can you find these big North American blueberries.”

Hearing Cassie’s words, one of her friends looked at me admiringly and asked if she could join next time. My agreement prompted delighted cheers from the group.