
They Chose Her Over Me—Now They're Begging for Forgiveness Summary
Chapter 1 of They Chose Her Over Me—Now They're Begging for Forgiveness
When I was discharged from the hospital after giving birth to my son, a trending post popped up on my phone while I was paying the bill.
"A neighbor I've only met twice just had a baby and insists I help take care of it, but my daughter also gave birth these past few days, and I really don't know how to refuse. Asking netizens for help."
The comments were all over the place, but the author only replied to one.
"Simple—just tell her you two are getting up there in age, and now that you're retired, you're planning to travel. Then go stay at your daughter's place. If the neighbor can't find you, there's nothing she can do. Wait until her kid's older, then move back."
My eyes lit up. That netizen's emotional intelligence was off the charts.
At the same time, I couldn't help looking down on this ungrateful neighbor. Only greeted each other twice—how could she have the nerve to make such an unreasonable request?
Luckily, my mom had agreed to help me with my son.
But when I opened my front door, the house was empty.
I called my parents. No answer.
Two hours later, Mom finally texted.
"Alex, while we're still young and can get around, your dad and I talked it over—we're going to travel for a while. Not sure when we'll be back. What I promised you might have to wait. Hang in there on your own for now."
My hand holding my son went stiff.
I opened my cousin Vivian James's account. Sure enough, she'd posted an update.
In the video, Mom's aged figure bustled around in the kitchen while Vivian cradled a newborn in her arms.
Caption: "A kid with a mom is a treasure. Thanks to Mom for helping me lighten the load. Love you for ten thousand years!"
1.
I stared at those words, reading them over and over.
It wasn't until my son started wailing from hunger that I snapped out of it.
The water and electricity had been cut off. I couldn't even mix formula.
I called Mom. The phone rang for ten minutes before she picked up, sounding harried.
"Hello? Alex? What's wrong? Why are you calling now? I'm busy."
I took a deep breath. "Mom, what did you mean by that message?"
"Didn't we agree three days ago? When I got discharged, I'd hand the baby to you and go back to work. You suddenly changed your mind—what am I supposed to do? The company's waiting for me to chair a meeting!"
She fell silent for two seconds. When she spoke again, her tone had turned cold.
"Alex Fox, get this straight. I'm your mother, not some nanny you hired."
"I raised you for decades. I've worked hard enough. I finally retired and can enjoy life, and you still want me to take care of your kid? Fine—I didn't say I wouldn't. But at least let me catch my breath first, okay?"
Tears welled up in my eyes.
That help-seeking post—what was there I still didn't understand?
I, her biological daughter, had become the neighbor she'd only met twice.
And the cousin she was rushing to help? That was the daughter she truly claimed.
"Then how long before you can come back?"
"Don't know! I just arrived at the first tourist spot and you call me. My good mood's completely ruined. Fine—no sightseeing today. I'm going back to the hotel to rest."
Dad took the phone.
"Alex, your mom's going through menopause. Don't take it to heart."
"But don't blame me for saying this—you upset her for one day, our trip gets delayed one day, and we come back one day later."
I understood perfectly.
They thought I was a nuisance just for making a phone call.
Vivian's soft voice drifted through the speaker: "What's wrong? Did your older sister find out you came to see me and get upset?"
"How about I personally apologize to her?"
Mom's response was ice-cold:

















