“Mom’s fine. The doctor said she’s recovering quickly. You don’t need to take it out on me.”
“Daniel, I mean it—if being with me just makes the both of us miserable, maybe we should—”
Before I could finish, Daniel’s tone softened.
“Sorry, I was just anxious earlier. I spoke too harshly.”
“Don’t do that again. She’s my mom—if you don’t feel for her, I do.”
“I’ll come to the hospital to pick you both up. The doctor says you can be discharged.”
After hanging up, I stared at the dark phone screen, lost in thought.
Over the past two days, I’d scrolled through nearly every one of Chloe Miller’s updates.
Since the last incident, she and Daniel had been getting bolder and bolder.
The Porsche was no longer enough for her to flaunt—her latest photo was of the two of them lying on a king-sized bed in a hotel’s presidential suite.
The caption read:
“Thanks for the advice, everyone—this good man is mine now!”
“When we get married, drinks are on me!”
The post already had over ten thousand likes. I stared at that number, unable to look away.
Margaret Brooks seemed to notice something and sighed heavier with each passing day.
When Daniel went to handle the discharge paperwork, she quietly slipped a bank card into my hand, pressing a finger to her lips to signal “shh.”
“This is the money Daniel gave me for my retirement. I know my son has wronged you. If you decide to divorce him, let this be my compensation to you.”
I hurried to give it back.
“Mom, we’re all family. You don’t need to say that.”
“Emma, you saved my life. This money is yours by right. No matter what happens between you and Daniel, I just hope you’ll be happy in the future.”
Margaret tossed the card into my lap and quickly left the room.
I stood by the window, watching her get into the car with Daniel and drive away.
A message from him popped up on my phone:
“I’m taking Mom back to her hometown. Wait for me at the hospital entrance.”
I stood outside in the cold wind for four hours, but Daniel never showed up.
When my body could no longer take it, I hailed a cab home—only for Daniel to walk in right after I arrived.
He tossed his car keys beside me and yelled:
“Why did you leave without telling me? Do you know how long I was waiting for you at the hospital?”
I looked up at him, baffled.
I had waited four hours and he never appeared—yet now he was accusing me of not waiting?
“If you wanted me to tell you, shouldn’t you first take me off your blocked list?”
“Daniel, I’ve been taking care of your mom all this time, and when I come back, you don’t even say thank you. Is this your idea of being a husband?”
The anger on his face vanished instantly, his lips pressed into a tight line.
“That’s not what I meant. I was just… worried about you.”
Worried I’d have an accident—or worried I wouldn’t?
Then he pulled a bag from behind his back and handed it to me.
“I went out of my way to stop for this on the way back. I remember you like this cake. Come on, let’s not drag this out—anger just makes women age faster.”
I stared at the brand name on the bag for a long time without speaking.
Yes, this shop was indeed out of the way—but more importantly, it was right outside Chloe Miller’s apartment complex.
And I’d stopped eating sweets after I turned twenty-five.
Even so, I opened the bag, trying to give us both a shred of dignity.
That was, until I saw that the fruit on top of the cake had been deliberately scooped out.
A surge of anger flared inside me.
I shoved the cake straight into the trash and said coldly:
“Forget it. I’m too old, my metabolism’s slow—I’m not fit to eat the desserts young girls like.”
I turned to head upstairs, and that’s when Daniel completely exploded.
