I ignored David’s shocked reaction as I held my son tightly. I left him just like that.
On the way back to my parents’ house, I sank into memories of my past life.
Just because David didn’t want to be seen as a ‘simple’ househusband, afraid that it would hurt his pride as a man, I took a step back and compromised—only asking that our child take my surname. Nothing else mattered to me.
David had agreed without hesitation. So, we held a grand wedding and invited all our family and friends.
Everything that followed seemed pleasant enough until I gave birth to our son this October. That was when David revealed a completely different side of himself.
"Honey, I’m a man. We’re still married. I don’t think our child should take your surname?"
I was instantly furious and questioned him coldly. "You agreed to this yourself!"
David outright denied it. "Back then, I agreed because I loved you. I gave in to you on everything just to make you happy. Did you really think I meant it?"
I was so angry that I trembled all over. He had clearly broken his promise, yet he spoke so righteously, insisting that all those vows of love were just sweet talk, just meaningless words to make me happy.
If I had the chance in this life, I would run as far away as possible and never have anything to do with him again.
When my parents heard that I wanted a divorce and was cutting ties with David completely, they looked worried.
"But the baby. He’s only a few months old. Can you really bear to let him grow up without a father?"
I looked down at my son, Parry, my gaze soft and gentle. "Who said he doesn’t have a father?"
***
Thinking back to my postpartum recovery, David had sent me to a maternity center and hired a nanny—then completely vanished. He claimed he was too busy with work and that the company couldn’t function without him.
He would drop by every few days, stay for less than half an hour and then rush off again. The only person who visited me frequently was my childhood friend, Elijah.
I smiled faintly back then, “There are plenty of people lining up to be Parry’s dad and they have no problem with him taking my surname.”
I was determined to get a divorce. That same day, I called Elijah and asked him to come over when he had time to go with me and register Parry’s birth.
Just as I hung up the phone, I heard David’s voice shouting outside my parents’ villa.
“Anne, I was wrong! I shouldn’t have made you angry!”
I followed the sound and looked outside. Downstairs I saw the entrance was covered in red roses. David, dressed in a white suit, was kneeling on one knee, pleading for me to go back with him.
“If you insist on Parry taking your surname, I won’t argue anymore. I’ll listen to everything you say, okay? You’re the heart of our family.”
Hearing David’s seemingly sincere words, my parents couldn’t help but waver.
“Sweetheart, it looks like he truly realizes his mistake. Dave is a hardworking and dependable man and he listens to you so well. Why not give him a chance? Besides, every couple fights, it’s normal. But in the end, everything worked out, didn’t it? Just forgive him.”
My parents urged me not to let him kneel outside for too long and told me to go out and bring him inside.
I narrowed my eyes coldly, not moving an inch.
In my past life, David had used this same pitiful act to win over my parents and to soften my heart. They say a man’s knees are worth gold, so when I saw him kneeling before me, sincerely apologizing, I actually believed he had accepted Parry taking my surname.
But less than half a month later, I suddenly fell ill for no apparent reason.
During my treatment in my previous life, David acted caring on the surface, fussing over me with gentle words while secretly swapping my life-saving medication for sleeping pills.
He knew full well that I had a severe allergy to them, yet when he made the switch, there wasn’t even a hint of hesitation.
