“Mommy!” Noah suddenly rushed forward to hug my legs, tears falling in large drops.
“I know I was wrong! Auntie Mel was just pretending to be nice to me! She doesn’t really love me–she only loves Daddy’s money! She called me a burden behind my back. Only you truly care about me!”
I crouched down and gently wiped away his tears, saying softly, “Noah, I will always be your mother, but you and your father hurt me too deeply.”
“Our family is broken forever.”
Hearing this, Rhys clenched his fists tightly, his voice raspy: “Viv, really, is there no chance at all?”
His voice carried broken sobs: “Viv, can you really bear this? We were married for five years, but together for seven–over 2,500 days and nights.”
His fingertips were ice cold and trembling slightly:
“Remember when you first made me hangover soup and nearly burned down the kitchen?”
“Or that birthday when I carried you up eighteen flights of stairs because you said you wanted to see the stars?”
A tear fell on the back of my hand, burning hot.
“I know I’m a bastard, I know I deserve this, but Viv, my love for you was always real!”
He raised his bloodshot eyes like a prisoner awaiting sentence: “All those years, all those good times–have you forgotten them all?”
I gently withdrew my hand, watching the withered leaves falling on the Cam:
“I remember. It’s precisely because I remember that I gave you chance after chance when you hurt me repeatedly. But you’ve only realized your mistakes now.”
“Rhys, it’s too late.”
“Like these fallen leaves,” I opened my palm to catch a yellowed leaf, “even if glued back to the branch… they’ll never live again.”
Standing up, I gazed at the shimmering light on the distant River Cam, my lips curving slightly upward.
“Rhys, do you know? These two years in Cambridge have been the most liberating time of my life.”
“I’m no longer someone’s wife or someone’s mother–I’m just myself. I finally understand that love shouldn’t be about humble sacrifice, but equal respect.”
14:06
Screw You, Ex! My New Life’s Hotter Than Your Money!
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Chapter 8
By then, he stood frozen in place, his face as white as paper.
“So…“, I took a deep breath, looking directly into his eyes: “This is where we end.”
With that, I turned toward the crowd without looking back.
“Mommy! Mommy!”
Behind me, Noah’s heartbreaking cries echoed, causing my heart to ache terribly, but my steps didn’t falter–some wounds can’t be healed, some cracks can’t be repaired, and I had only just learned how to love myself.
Later, I discovered that Rhys had moved to England with Noah.
But they never disturbed my life directly, quietly sending gifts on every holiday–sometimes homemade cookies with flour still on the packaging, sometimes an architecture magazine with photos of father and son in front of various Cambridge colleges tucked inside.
Occasionally, I would have Noah stay with me for a few days.
Whenever Rhys brought Noah to my place, I could always see him standing under a streetlight at the corner, maintaining a perfectly measured distance.
In the bone–chilling December cold of Cambridge, he would just stand there, not leaving until the lights in our house
went out.
“Mommy,” Noah once said, lying across my lap and twirling my sleeve with his finger.
“Miss Mary says knowing your mistakes and changing makes you a good child. Daddy doesn’t even drink the coffee brand Auntie Mel likes anymore!”
Then he looked up with wet eyes and asked, “Can you forgive Daddy?”
I stroked his soft forehead: “Noah, because you’re my child, you can be forgiven when you recognize your mistakes.”
Outside the window, fine snow began to fall, and that familiar silhouette appeared in the distance–he was bending down to pick up Noah’s scarf left on the bench, carefully brushing off the snowflakes.
“But in the adult world, some cracks can’t be fixed.”
Noah nodded with partial understanding.
Later, I heard that Rhys had begun volunteering regularly at an alcohol rehabilitation center and that his company had started a new project offering free legal consultation to single mothers.
Last winter, I ran into his business partner at the library who hesitantly told me: “The boss freezes whenever he sees discounted items now. Once during a team–building event, we passed a cake shop and he suddenly burst into tears.”
With this, I just smiled without any comment.
14:00
Screw You, Ex! My New Life’s Hotter Than Your Money!
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This spring 1 received a bouquet of dandelions at the entrance of Cambridge college.
There was no card, just a carefully framed newspaper dipping of the RIBA Gold Medal report–the news of my wward from years ago, with edges worn soft from handling
When the wind rose, those white dandelion seeds floated toward the Cam, like belated snow.
s1 carried them toward my office, I heard Noah’s giggles behind me.
I didn’t turn around, but I knew-
That figure who always stood at a safe distance was surely watching me at this moment.
Some stories don’t need perfect endings, like ripples on the Cam–once they dissipate, they’re gone.
But those dandelion seeds scattered by the wind will eventually bloom into a new spring elsewhere.
