But when I saw the photo of Willy kissing Sophia’s swollen belly, his face glowing with pure joy, I realized the cruel truth—he had already built a family with someone else.
And my Little Treasure? In his eyes, my child was nothing more than an unwanted burden, like an inflamed appendix that needed to be cut away as soon as possible.
No wonder. No wonder that every year on Liam’s birthday, Willy had always made excuses about urgent business trips abroad.
Because his other child’s birthday was only three days after Liam’s. He had to be there early, making sure everything was perfect—making sure his "real" child never felt neglected.
Heartbroken, I exited the page and called my best friend overseas. “I want to work for your company as a jewelry appraiser. I’ll see you in three days.” I also asked her for a few favors.
After finishing, I went to Liam’s room. Everything was still the same—the bedding still in place, his tiny pillow still carrying the faint scent of milk. But Liam would never return to sleep in it again.
Underneath his pillow, I found a small wishing bottle. Inside was a note, written by his teacher, recording his birthday wish.
"The teacher said a man must be brave, so this year, I finally gathered the courage to tell Daddy that I wanted a birthday present. But before I could even finish my sentence, Daddy walked away angrily. Actually, all I wanted was for Daddy to stay with me on my birthday, even just for an hour. Thirty minutes would be fine. I’d be happy… really happy."
Tears blurred my vision. Willy, is this what you saw as ambition? Was a child’s innocent wish truly that unbearable for you?
I printed the divorce papers that night, then clung to Liam’s quilt, breathing in his scent as I sobbed until dawn.
***
The next morning, Willy, despite his usual obsession with cleanliness, personally cleaned my wound, changed my bandages and carefully wrapped them with gauze.
The nanny beside us looked envious of his attentiveness, but my heart was dead inside.
He noticed my swollen, red eyes and sighed, his voice full of pain.
“Carol, I know you miss Liam. I miss him even more than you do. But you need to take care of yourself. I’ve already lost my beloved child—I can’t lose you too. Why don’t you rest at home today? Let me handle Liam’s funeral.”
Leave it to you? Leave it to the very man who orchestrated my child’s murder? I swallowed back my bitter sarcasm and replied in a flat voice, “No need. I have to see Little Treasure off for the last time.”
At the funeral, from a distance, I saw Sophia and a teenage boy standing beside my mother-in-law, supporting her like the perfect daughter-in-law and grandson.
The boy was smiling as he spoke, making her laugh with joy. It was a solemn event, yet Sophia wore a luxurious red designer dress and even the boy was dressed in an eye-catching crimson suit. Unlike the rest of us dressed in mourning black, they stood out like guests at a celebration.
My mother-in-law, completely ignoring the grieving atmosphere, clung to them with obvious favoritism, doting on them as if they were her real family. To shield them from the sun, she even ordered a maid to hold an umbrella over them—as if Sophia were her rightful daughter-in-law and the boy her cherished grandson.
Then Sophia turned to me, curling her lips into a mocking smile. “Auntie, I’m fine under the sun. Carol is here, though. The sun is so harsh—better let her have the umbrella. After all, unlike me, she’s both childless and injured. She needs extra care.”
Hearing this, my mother-in-law sneered, her face twisting with disdain as she looked at me.
"It’s just a dead brat. What’s the big deal? Who are you trying to impress with those grieving eyes? Acting all high and mighty, completely forgetting the dignity of our Nelson Family."
She scoffed before continuing, "Even Sophia and Benny have better manners than you. The moment they landed, they rushed here to support me, bringing me expensive jade bracelets. They’re a thousand times more thoughtful than you, you ungrateful wretch."
She had always despised me. From the very start, she never thought I was good enough for Willy. And when I struggled for over a decade to conceive, she labeled me a useless hen who couldn’t lay eggs.
Later, when I finally had Liam, she hated him too. Because despite his young age, he always stood up for me. And in her eyes, that made him a traitor—an ungrateful child who sided against his own bloodline.
