A Mother's Agony

On my son Lucas Edwards's birthday, he had only one wish: for us, his family, to go to Disneyland. However, things became difficult because my husband, Alexander Edwards, never cared for me or our son.

The most infuriating part was that I had to beg him endlessly before he finally agreed.

The night before we were supposed to go to the happiest place on earth, Alexander was nowhere to be found. And right then, Lucas died with his wish unfulfilled.

I don't know how I managed it all, but I found myself handling the funeral alone, only to discover a photo of my husband on Cassandra Collins's Instagram post.

"I told him I wanted to see the snow, and he did everything for me to see it."

Even after seeing that, I maintained my composure, but at that moment, I made my decision. I packed my belongings without shedding a tear.

Who would have thought that after everything, Alexander would beg me not to go?

***

It wasn't surprising that Alexander would drop everything for Cassandra. I had never been his priority, never the exception. To him, I was just someone desperate for his attention, a notion he never let go of. How could I possibly compare to the woman he always loved?

That day, I returned from the cemetery to our villa, the place that was supposed to be our marital home. Yet, Alexander rarely set foot here. It was more of a shared residence with my son, Lucas.

The echoes of Lucas’s laughter, his tiny footprints, and the remnants of his toys were everywhere. Each memory of my son was a dagger to my heart, and I wept bitterly as I began clearing away the traces of our life together. Every remembrance of Lucas and me had to go, or I would drown in my grief.

As I dragged my suitcase downstairs, I ran into Alexander. He was carrying Cassandra into the house, his face etched with concern. He brushed past me, treating me like a stranger under the same roof. His eyes never even glanced my way. I had grown accustomed to this. With Cassandra around, I was invisible to him.

Upon seeing the suitcase at my feet, Alexander stopped in his tracks. His voice was devoid of emotion. "Natalie Collins, another one of your dramatic stunts?"

Meanwhile, Cassandra, clinging affectionately to Alexander's neck, looked up at me with a smirk. "Natalie, I twisted my ankle, and since Alexander said it's close by, he brought me here to take care of it. You don't mind, do you?"

It was just a twisted ankle. I watched as Alexander gently settled her on the sofa and then fetched an ice pack to soothe her foot. He treated her as if she were made of glass.

I remember a time when I had a car accident and broke my leg. I needed a family member's signature for surgery, so I reached out to Alexander. His response was cold and detached, "A broken leg isn't life or death. Why bother me?"

It felt like a cruel joke, especially when I recalled how he had dismissed me in my time of real need.

Yet, it seemed like my husband couldn't be bothered to tend after his wife. Why would he? When everything was just a deal for him. We were just in this marriage to appease our parents. We were just here to get our inheritance.