No Longer Your Shadow

I've accidentally worn a dress belonging to my deceased older sister, Gwendolyn Stokes, to a family banquet.

Because of that, my husband, Thomas Torres, goes quiet with fury. He then sentences me to a punishment of kneeling in the snow for three long hours.

The blizzard chills me to the bone. My son, Robin Torres, makes fun of me while hurling snowballs at me.

"No matter how much you dress up, you'll always be a phony! Don't think you can go around replacing my mommy just because you've changed into her dress!"

As I stare at Robin's face, which bears some resemblance with mine, I feel my heart breaking.

He has no idea that I'm his actual mother.

On the year Gwendolyn passed away, Thomas, who drank himself into a stupor, mistook me for her. That night, he kept moaning Gwendolyn's name and whispering sweet nothings to me. That was how I got pregnant with Robin.

Thomas has forbidden me from telling anyone the truth. On the other hand, I can't bear to leave my own child alone. So, I beg Thomas repeatedly to let me stay in the Torres residence.

During my stay here, Thomas gives me the cold shoulder all the time. Only when he needs to vent his desire does he seek me out.

What I didn't expect is that Robin hates my guts as well. Not only does he keep pulling pranks on me from time to time, but he also curses at me.

"Shameless women like you have no right to stay in my home! Once I grow up, I'll definitely kick you out!"

Now, I can finally respond to him.

"Oh, I don't have to wait for you to grow up at all."

Tomorrow, I'll pack my things and leave. I no longer want to remain as someone else's replacement and continue living a life of humiliation.

This time, I'm going to pursue a life of my own.

Winnie's Point-of-View

During a family banquet, my dress was slashed by my husband's mistress, Erica Glover.

She acted surprised, and though she apologized, the mockery in her eyes was unmistakable. "I'm so sorry, Winnie. It was an accident. Maybe you should change into something else."

Biting my lip, I rushed back to my room and threw on the first dress on the top shelf of the wardrobe.

It never crossed my mind that the dress belonged to my deceased sister, Gwendolyn Stokes, since I had never seen it.

My husband, the usually composed, stone-faced CEO of Torres Group, Thomas Torres, completely lost it the moment he saw that dress.

I was forced to change out of Gwendolyn's dress before being made to kneel in the snow for three hours straight, in nothing but my torn, ruined dress.

The heavy snow was bone-chilling, making it hard to even breathe.

After what felt like an eternity, a child's soft voice reached my ears. "Who said you could wear my mom's dress? You deserve to freeze to death!"

I opened my eyes with effort and saw my son, Robin Torres, right in front of me.

Suddenly, a huge snowball slammed into my body. The sharp pain knocked me off balance, and I collapsed straight into the snow.

"No matter what you wear, a fake will always be a fake! Don't think you can replace my mom just because of what you're wearing!" Robin shouted while pelting me with more snowballs.

Looking at the face that was so similar to mine made my heart ache as if it were being stabbed.

Robin didn't know that I was his real, biological mother. He had always believed that his birth mother was Gwendolyn.

In his eyes, I was just a vicious woman trying to take his real mother's place.

"A shameless woman like you doesn't deserve to stay in our family!" he yelled. "When I grow up, I'll kick you out!"

A burning pain rose in my throat. I struggled to pull myself up, brushing the snow off my body.

Five years ago, I had been on my knees outside this villa for three whole days, begging Thomas to let me in just so I could stay by Robin's side and see him a little more.

But as I stared at the look of disgust on Robin's face right then, everything I had endured felt utterly meaningless.

"You don't need to wait until you grow up."

I gave a faint smile, deciding to pack up my things and leave on my own tomorrow. I was done being a substitute, done living a lowly, humiliating life.

This time, I was going to live a life that was mine alone.