Too Late For Christmas Wishes

On Christmas Eve, my son Cody had a severe asthma attack and was on the brink of death.

As he took his last breath, his only wish was to see his father one last time.

But I couldn't tell him the truth: that his father, Blake, was at a Christmas party with his mistress's child, happily unwrapping presents.

I frantically called his father, but the calls went straight to voicemail.

My son passed away, his heart filled with regret, and my own heart turned to ash. I leaped from the roof of our penthouse.

Now, I’m reborn. And as I look at the man standing before me, his eyes filled with guilt, my heart is a silent, dead sea.

"Just this once, Scarlett. Kyle has a fever, and he really needs me—"

I cut him off, strode over, and scooped up my son, Cody.

"Get out of my sight."

"Evelyn," he choked out, "it was her—impersonating you all along."

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1

I never thought I would be reborn.

The memory of Cody going still in my arms is burned into my soul.

My first life was a tragedy from start to finish.

Before Cody took his last breath, his only wish was to see his father, whom he hadn't seen in over a month.

But I didn't dare tell him the truth. I couldn't reach Blake Sterling at all. The countless messages and calls I sent were met with a wall of silence.

Then, I found the truth on Jessica Miller's Instagram. Blake had been celebrating Christmas with her and her son, Kyle.

In the photo, Blake was holding Kyle, his smile absolutely radiant. The caption read: "Kyle is so happy to have someone with him for Christmas this year."

Despair, rage, and bitterness swallowed me whole.

My despair was so raw that even a child like Cody could feel it.

"Mommy, is Daddy not coming back to see me?" he asked, his voice frail.

I could only hold him tight, apologizing over and over. I felt his small body grow cold, then stiffen, until the last wisp of life slipped away.

Outside the window, Christmas lights painted the New York night in a kaleidoscope of colors. But inside, my son had stopped breathing, his heart filled with a regret I could never undo.

With his passing, my will to live crumbled.

After gently laying Cody down, I walked onto the balcony of our penthouse apartment. Consumed by despair, I followed him and leaped.

As my soul floated above my cold, broken body, I saw someone I never expected. It was Blake.

He rushed to my side, tears streaming down his face, screaming for the doctors to save me.

But my skull was shattered. How could they possibly save me?

My soul shrieked at him to get away, to not dare touch my body. The sight of him made me sick. If I could, I would have torn him apart with my own hands.

But I could do nothing.

I never expected to be reborn.

No one could understand the ecstasy I felt realizing I had another chance. No one could fathom the sheer self-control it took not to break down sobbing when I saw a living, breathing Cody standing before me again.

I had a chance to start over. This time, I swore I would rewrite our ending.

As for Blake? He deserved to go to hell.

The Blake standing before me now wore his usual apologetic expression. He gently patted Cody's head and said, "Cody, I'm sorry. Daddy has something urgent to take care of, but I promise I'll be back soon."

"Scarlett, this is the last time. Kyle has a fever, and he really needs me right now…"

Cody was reluctant, but as always, he never questioned his father's decisions.

He was so mature for his age it was heartbreaking.

I glared at Blake's face. The mere sight of him made my stomach churn.

I covered Cody's eyes with one hand and, with the other, I swung with all my strength, slapping him hard across the face.

Slap!

The crisp sound exploded in the room.

"Taking care of your mistress and another man's son is more important than being with your own sick child? You call that responsibility?" I spat.

Blake was stunned. He clutched his cheek, his face twisting from disbelief to shame, then to anger. He pointed a trembling finger at me, gritting his teeth. "Scarlett Sterling, you're being completely irrational!"

"Jessica is a single mother! She has no one else in New York. Is it so wrong for me to help her? Why do you have to make everything sound so sordid?"

I didn't bother to respond. I picked up Cody and walked straight to the door. Blake followed, still spouting his self-righteous justifications. I didn't look back. I just opened the door, turned, and said coldly:

"Get out of my sight."

My cold words left him speechless. He stood there for a long moment before finally slinking away, dejected.

In the past, whenever he walked out that door without a second thought, my heart would shatter. I’d let my grief consume me, neglecting Cody in the process.

Not this time. I would never let history repeat itself.

A man like him deserved nothing but hell.