Chapter 2

I clenched my fists, my whole body trembling uncontrollably, my nails digging into my palms.

"Mom, why?

I'm your daughter too! Why did you wait until now to tell me?"

"Could you really bear to watch me hurt myself over and over for five years because of guilt and self-blame?"

She slammed the wedding photo onto the bedside table with a "crack," glaring at me with disappointment all over her face.

"If I really didn't see you as my daughter, you wouldn't even be alive today!"

"How many times have I dealt with your mess? You act out once, I save you once. Every time you slit your wrists, I have to send you to the hospital."

"I'm over sixty years old, taking care of you every day. Do I owe you something?"

She took a deep breath and stabbed those knife-like words deep into my heart again.

"Let me make this clear—the day after tomorrow when Ava has her wedding, you stay put and don't cause trouble."

"If you have any conscience left at all, you should let go and let Ava live a good life. Do you understand?"

"Don't forget, these past years it's been Ava raising your son for you! She doesn't owe you anything!"

"It's one thing for you to torment me, but don't you dare make things difficult for her. She's already so understanding and has had it hard enough!"

I laughed through my tears, completely breaking down.

"Mom, do you know how many injections I endured for IVF, how much I suffered to get pregnant with that child?"

My mom didn't even lift her eyelids, her brows full of impatience.

I didn't wait for her to speak, continuing my hysterical sobbing.

"During that time, I was drowning in the news that Guillermo died saving me.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him covered in blood. I wanted to stab myself to death."

"It was that child who held me back. I didn't dare die—I was afraid of killing two people, taking his flesh and blood with me."

Tears fell like broken beads, one after another.

"I went to prenatal checkups alone, signed consent forms alone, lay on the ultrasound table alone, listening to the child's heartbeat and crying until I couldn't breathe. But I was willing, because that was my only light to keep living!"

"And what happened? You told me the child died prematurely!"

My mom's face paled for a moment, but she still didn't say anything.

Looking at her cold face, I suddenly found it laughably absurd.

"Now you tell me the child didn't actually die, that Ava's been raising him."

"During these five years when life was worse than death for me—when I was slitting my wrists, they were celebrating the child's birthday;

"When I was jumping off buildings, they were at the amusement park as a family of three;

"When I was self-harming to vent my longing for the child and Guillermo during my severe depression, he was holding Ava and living sweetly!"

I laughed, tears streaming down my face.

"Mom, are you now saying I should be grateful to Ava for raising my child? Grateful that she slept with my husband?"

My mom's face turned white, then she suddenly clutched her chest.

"Do you even see me as your mother? You can't keep your man's heart, and you run here to question me? Are you trying to kill me?"

"Richards still calls Ava his aunt. We all just told him his mother went somewhere far away.

He's been raised so well by Ava! Much better than being with you!"

Before she finished speaking, she collapsed to the floor, pounding it and wailing.

"Why is my life so bitter! Ava is obedient and considerate, afraid I'll suffer and be exhausted.

"Christina is constantly trying to kill herself, giving me no peace even in my old age!"

The door suddenly burst open and my dad rushed in.

Seeing my mom sitting on the floor crying, he raised his hand and slapped me across the face.