Chapter 3
Steven gripped my chin with his other hand. His grip was firm and unyielding, preventing me from turning away. Following that, his lips pressed down on mine. "You'll enjoy it."
...
Zachary was in his final year of kindergarten. School started at 8:00 am sharp every day.
The kindergarten was a 20-minute drive from home. To make sure he wasn't late, we would leave by 7:30 am every morning, so I woke up at 6:30 am to prepare breakfast. That morning's breakfast was simple-ravioli I had prepared the night before.
What was a bit more work was the soup base. I had to make fresh chicken soup.
I laid some herbs at the bottom of the pot, placed a whole cleaned chicken inside, and added some vegetables on top. I covered the pot and let it boil on high heat.
Once it started boiling, I lifted the lid, and the rich aroma of chicken soup filled the kitchen. I added a bit of salt, then lowered the heat to let it simmer.
After finishing everything, I left the kitchen satisfied and went to the walk-in closet to pick out outfits for Zachary and Steven.
Steven, as the CEO of his company, dressed more formally. Zachary, being a child, mostly wore comfortable and practical clothes.
Once I laid out the outfits in their respective bedrooms, they were almost done getting ready.
I took that opportunity to ladle the chicken soup and cook the ravioli. The chicken soup was already hot, so it didn't take long to boil. I put enough ravioli for all three of us into the pot and waited quietly for it to cook. "Mommy!"
I turned around upon hearing Zachary's angry voice and saw him rushing toward me with his tablet.
He was furious. "Did you delete Ms. Jessie's contact and leave the group chat we were in?"
I looked at his flushed, angry face and shook my head. "No."
But I could understand Zachary's feelings. He was still too young to grasp right from wrong.
In his eyes, Jessica let him indulge in things. He could eat freely and play as he pleased. So, to him, Jessica was his favorite person.
Even if we adults cut off his connection with Jessica for his own good, he wouldn't be able to accept it.
I had prepared myself for his anger, but I hadn't expected his words to be so hurtful.
"Who else would do that other than you?" Zachary glared at me. "No wonder everyone says Daddy doesn't like you! Women like you, who want to control every detail of other people's lives, don't deserve to be loved!" Even though I had anticipated him losing control and saying extreme things, I still told myself that I should be understanding. I was his mother, after all.
myself. His words were like a sharp arrow, effortlessly piercing through my tough facade and
was really so detestable in
"Daddy doesn't like me? Then,
"Ms. Jessie, of course! He told me himself
went blank. "How do
me, of course. Why else would he always take me
only made his
wouldn't have kept in contact with her. Their recent interactions had been
tightly. In that instant, a sharp pain shot through me. "Daddy must really like Ms. Jessie. The way he looks at her
said he hasn't divorced you yet because he doesn't want me to end up in a single-parent family like you, as it
if he divorces you, you'll cling to
five years old, his voice still soft and innocent. But the things
was only saying these things because he was upset. But my hands
was done.
Zachary's words as I served him a bowl. Worried it might be too hot
with both hands and slammed it onto
crash, and the chicken ravioli soup
much you can throw a fit. Have you forgotten all the manners I
anger flared up as well. Our eyes locked, neither
visibly unhappy. After pushing me, he cried as he ran off. "I don't need you
very hard, but I still stumbled and
in disbelief at
and undeveloped sense of judgment, he
calmly afterward what was wrong. He'd then figure out how to
sad, did I? I'll remember that, and I won't
against the stove. My
this? Was it really
reflected on
too strict with him before. He was young and didn't understand that everything I
him feel relaxed, so he slowly drifted toward her and
on him, would it mend
took another bowl from
I didn't serve him his ravioli but instead placed the empty bowl on the table
admit that my mind was a jumble of thoughts at this
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