They Belittled My Love, Yet They Cry Out for My Return

After my brother died, I married his wife and became my nephew's stepfather.

I accidentally wore one of my late brother's old shirts on my birthday.

And in front of everyone, my five-year-old nephew smashed the birthday cake right into my face.

He stared at me coldly as I wiped off the cream, his expression as icy as his mother's.

"Don't think marrying my mom means you can take my dad's place," he snapped. "You're just a shallow, greedy man!"

"I wish you were the one who died back then. That way, today would've been your death anniversary."

The sweet frosting slid into my mouth, but all I could taste was bitterness.

Looking at the child I'd helped raise with my own hands, I suddenly felt free.

If he didn't like me, then so be it.

***

"Zion, are you really divorcing Fiona? Weston is still so young. He needs you."

"Godmother, I only married Fiona because of the agreement we made. Now, Weston is five years old. He can take care of himself and doesn't need me anymore."

I said calmly to the person on the other end of the phone, my hands braced on the stovetop.

Five years ago, I signed a marriage contract to repay a life debt to my godmother. I gave everything to the Claires during those five years, but the agreement ends tomorrow. Now, it's time for me to leave.

Before my godmother could reply, I felt a sharp pain in my forehead. A jagged rock clattered onto the tiled floor.

I covered my bleeding forehead and looked at Weston standing outside the window.

He crossed his arms and glared at me with disdain.

"You bastard, you went to Grandma to complain again, didn't you? Looks like the lesson I taught you just now wasn't harsh enough. You should just go down to the underworld and keep my dad company."

My chest tightened as everything from an hour ago came flooding back.

Today was my twenty-fifth birthday. Having never celebrated it before, I had rarely bought myself a cake, but I angered Weston by mistakenly wearing my deceased brother's clothes.

He snatched the cake away, wrote "Rest in Peace" on it with black paint and stuck funeral chrysanthemums on top.

My birthday cake became a memorial cake.

Weston laughed gleefully, mocking me.

"Did you even deserve to have a birthday? If you hadn't killed my dad back then, how would I have become a single-parent child? You remember this, from now on, every year on this day will be the anniversary of your death."

Then, in front of everyone, he smashed the cake into my face and ruined the one moment I'd looked forward to all year.

I didn't lash out. I just turned and quietly walked into the kitchen.

Seeing that I didn't say anything, displeasure flashed across Weston's eyes.

"Are you feeling wronged now? Let me tell you, when I grow up, the first thing I'll do is kick you out of the Claires!"

I looked at the child I'd poured my heart into for five years and I suddenly felt tired. I sighed and said to him.

"You don't need to kick me out, I'll leave tomorrow."

After speaking, I turned and left the kitchen, returning to the living room to bandage the wound on my forehead.

Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass came from the second floor. My movements stopped and an ominous premonition filled my heart.

When I went upstairs to check, I saw an emerald bracelet, the only memento my mother had left me, smashed into pieces. The tiny shards of glass glittered on the floor, piercing my eyes with a deep pain.

I stumbled forward, picked up the fragments from the ground and carefully held them in my palm.

In these five years, I hadn't cried when my in-laws made things difficult for me. I could swallow my grievances even when Fiona treated me as a substitute for her brother, a tool to vent on. Even when Weston, the child I had grown attached to, smashed the cake in my face in front of so many people, my first reaction wasn't sadness.

Still, at this moment, my tears flowed uncontrollably.

This was the only thing left by the only person in this world who truly loved me.

After seeing my pain, the culprit, Weston, provoked me.

"How is it? Does it hurt when something important to you is destroyed? You caused me to lose my dad, so I'll destroy the most important thing to you."

I looked at his proud little face and for the first time, I snapped. I grabbed him and yelled.

"Weston, you've really gone too far! I want you to pick up every single piece and put them back together right now!"

It was the first time Weston had seen me like this and a look of bewilderment flashed in his eyes.

The next second, a large hand suddenly appeared and forcefully pushed me to the ground.

Fiona, who had rushed over upon hearing the noise, had a cold expression. She said with a displeasure tone.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Zion? It's just a stupid bracelet. Why are you yelling at a child over it?"

I sat paralyzed on the ground, numbly looking at the aloof woman before me.

To her, it was probably just a worthless bracelet, but to me, it was all I had left.

Ten years ago, an earthquake levelled my hometown. My mother shielded me with her body, taking a concrete slab through her chest just to keep me alive.

From then on, I had no mother.

It wasn't until I was fifteen that Cynthia found me and sponsored my schooling, allowing me to feel a sliver of warmth from a family again.

Fiona must've realized she'd gone too far. She pushed Weston out of the room and shut the door behind him.

Then she knelt beside me, helping me to the bed. She wiped away my tears and said softly.

"I've always thought you were a sensible person and shouldn't lose your temper with a child. Today was your fault. Remember to find time to apologize to Weston."

Then her fingers moved to unbutton my shirt. Her voice was low.

"It's your birthday. I can keep you company tonight. Think of it as a reward for all you've done for this family."

My breath caught. I grabbed Fiona's hand, saying calmly.

"Fiona, let's get a divorce."