Chapter 7
During the one–month cooling–off period for the divorce, Alexander still didn’t believe I was
serious about it.
He thought it was just a new stunt of mine.
“Josephine, I admit I overstepped this time. You don’t need to keep up the act. Just come home, and I’ll forget everything you said about divorce.”
I frowned at him.
George rolled down the car window, irritated.
“Dad, if Mom wants to act out, just leave her alone!
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“Hurry up, I’ve got a meeting with Aunty Olivia, and I’m going to be late!‘
Hearing this, I felt no emotion, merely smiled as I urged Alexander.
“Did you hear that, Mr. Lee? The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll be free.”
Alexander stared at me, then said after a pause,
“Don’t regret it.
“If you divorce, you won’t get custody of Geordie.”
He was so sure I wouldn’t dare to go through with it, assuming he had me cornered.
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After all, the child was my everything.
“Good, then. If he doesn’t like me, I don’t want to raise an ungrateful child.”
I didn’t lower my voice on purpose. George, from the back seat, looked up with a hint of panic in his eyes.
Half an hour later.
I walked out of the civil affairs bureau in high spirits, snapping a photo of the divorce certificate to announce my newly single status
on social media.
Alexander’s face was a stormy shade beside me.
He held George’s hand, as if he wanted to say something.
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But I was done listening.I drove away, leaving
them behind.
In the rear–view mirror, the father and son stood, looking lost and disheartened.
I turned my gaze away, convincing myself I must be seeing things.
No one would be in their way with Olivia anymore; they should be delighted, not upset.
Whether they were happy or sad, it no longer concerned me.
I threw myself into work, arranging Daisy’s school enrollment, and was busier than ever.
One day, I received an unexpected call from
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George’s homeroom teacher.
“Geordie’s mother, I need to talk to you. Has something happened to Geordie? He’s been very unruly lately, always quarreling and fighting
with classmates…”
I hadn’t heard from them in about two months.
The news hit me with eerie calmness.
“We’re divorced. I don’t manage Geordie
anymore. Please contact his guardians for any issues:
وو
The teacher was stunned. “He left only your number and told us to contact you.”
“I’m not his mother.”
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And with that, I ended the
Chapter 8
