I Ran Away With My Son

In our five years of marriage, I had given in to my husband, John, for a grand total of three times.

The first time was during my pregnancy. He had taken his ex-girlfriend Stacy, who had once taken three bullets for him, back home and cared for her. When I became angry, he immediately sent her away once she recovered.

The second time was after childbirth, when I was ready to return to work. To repay a favor, he gave the position I had worked years for to Stacy. He said it was so I could rest well. I looked at my son, who needed me, and I conceded.

The third time was during our son’s birthday. In front of the entire company, he had announced that Stacy was his wife, all so she could establish herself in the company. I gave him two choices: divorce or send her away. Without hesitation, he chose the latter and immediately sent her abroad.

The fourth time was when my father suddenly had a heart attack and urgently needed surgery. He disappeared again. I searched everywhere for him to cover the hospital expenses, and I finally discovered that he had gone to the airport to pick up a pregnant Stacy, who was returning to the country. Because of that, my father missed the best chance for treatment and died.

I was done giving in.

I disguised the divorce agreement as our son’s medical bill and tricked him into signing it.

No compensation or apology would matter.

I did not wish to have him near my son or myself again.

“Mom, it’s my birthday today! Is Dad still not coming home?”

My son Jason tugged at my pants, with his voice choked with tears.

I looked at the dozen missed calls on my phone and felt anxious.

So I picked him up and went straight to John’s company, only to find his office empty.

The receptionist said he was in the banquet hall. I froze, then glanced again at the message John had just sent.

[I’m in a meeting, we’ll talk later.]

Suppressing my unease, I pushed open the banquet hall doors.

Jason shouted for his dad, but I quickly covered his mouth.

At that moment, John was holding another woman by the waist and announcing to everyone, “This is my wife, Stacy. We’ve been married for five years.”

He spoke smoothly, and the crowd turned to look at Stacy.

They stepped forward with their drinks to toast her, but John stopped them.

“My wife doesn’t like to drink, so I’ll drink on her behalf.”

My hands trembled violently, and by the time I calmed down, tears were streaming down my face.

My phone lit up with another message from John.

[My meeting is almost over. Where did you book the restaurant? I will head over.

[Stacy will come as well. Don’t throw a tantrum and embarrass her.]

I read each word, then looked up to see John slip his phone back into his pocket and kiss Stacy on the cheek.

I took out my phone and snapped a photo. I leaned against the wall for a time before walking out of the building.

The driver asked cautiously, “Madam, should we head to the restaurant?”

I rested my head wearily against the window. With a barely audible voice, I said, “No, go back to the Lane Family home.”

My parents came out happily to greet me, only to see I had brought Jason along, but not John.

“Where is John? Why did he not come? He isn’t with that woman again, is he?”

I gave a bitter smile and nodded.

Mother grew furious and patted my shoulder.

“Amy, our family may not be wealthy, but we can still raise you and Jason.

“If you don’t want to live with him anymore, then come home.”

With tears in my eyes, I threw myself into her arms and sobbed. “Alright.”

I ended up celebrating Jason’s birthday at the Lane Family home. He was happy.

John called many times, but I did not answer.

I only sent him the photo and then turned off my phone.

When I returned to the villa, John immediately leapt up from the sofa and rushed to the door.

“Amy, listen to me! It’s not what you think!

“Stacy just joined the company and had no solid ground there. I only wanted to use that title so she wouldn’t be bullied.”

His words came fast. It was as if he truly feared I would misunderstand.

I pushed him away coldly and held Jason’s hand as I walked inside.

“Dad...” Jason whispered.

“Don’t call him Dad!”

Jason flinched at my roar, and I gently patted his back to comfort him.

Then, under John’s stunned gaze, I said, “He isn’t your father.

“Miss Stacy is his wife. Only her child has the right to call him Dad.”

John froze because I had never spoken with such finality before.

He realized I was serious.

He rushed forward to grab me, but Stacy beat him to it.

She ran to me in tears and clutched my sleeve tightly.

“Amy, I’m sorry! It’s all my fault for being so useless and causing this.

“Please don’t blame John, I never wanted to ruin your marriage.”

I let out a cold laugh and flung her hand away.

“Haven’t you caused enough damage already?”

Ever since she took three bullets for John, she had completely claimed him.

When I was pregnant and nauseous, he had sat at her bedside, feeding her soup.

When I prepared to return to work, he gave her the position I had fought years for.

He said it was so I could rest at home, yet he rarely cared for our son, leaving me exhausted.

I still remember when Jason had a high fever in the middle of the night. I had been in tears as I called him to get the car ready.

He hurriedly hung up and told me to handle it myself.

Later, I learned that on that day, he had been celebrating Stacy’s birthday at Disneyland.

The more I thought about it, the more aggrieved I felt. I shoved Stacy aside and headed into the house.

It was barely a small push, yet she fell straight to the floor and knocked over the table.

A vase shattered against her head, and blood immediately poured down.

John went mad. He rushed over, knocking Jason down without even noticing.

“Stacy, are you alright?

“Amy, what are you waiting for? Call an ambulance!”

Jason burst into tears as blood ran down his scraped knees.

But John took no notice of him. He carried Stacy in his arms and ran out the door.

Each step he took felt like a stomp to my heart and left me unable to breathe.

At that moment, the man who had once held my hand and vowed never to let me or our child suffer was completely dead to me.