2
It took me a long moment to realize I had been reborn.
Today was my son, Daniel’s, eighteenth birthday.
Outside, the air was filled with joyous laughter–a picture of a loving father and a devoted son.
In my hands, I held a birthday gift. It was an acceptance letter to a prestigious leadership camp in the United States, something I had pulled every string, exhausted every connection, and swallowed every ounce of my pride to get for him. The attendees were all children of the rich and powerful; being smart was merely the minimum requirement.
In my past life, this camp was the opportunity that connected him with the right people, paving the way for his future success.
“Eliza, what’s taking you so long? Daniel is about to make his wishes!”
Hearing my husband’s call, I walked out.
Just like before, my presence was like a blast of cold air, chilling the warm atmosphere in an instant.
Daniel shot me a cool glance before clasping his hands together to make his wish.
“Please, please let my grandparents live to be a hundred!
“And please let my dad’s career be successful, with promotions and a seven–figure salary!”
The three adults clapped, their faces beaming with pride, and presented their gifts.
His grandparents gave him a basketball.
His father gave him a pair of sneakers.
Daniel accepted them gratefully, planting a kiss on each of their cheeks.
The next second, he was about to blow out the candles.
My mother–in–law pressed his hand down and shot me a look, an expression that screamed: If you don’t make a wish for her, she’ll throw another one of her fits.
So, just like in my past life, Daniel reluctantly clasped his hands together again.
“I wish for my mom and dad to get a divorce, and for this plague of a mother to get far, far away from us! It would be best if she never appeared in our lives again!”
The exact same words.
But this time, my reaction was different. I didn’t break down, I didn’t cry and ask him why. I didn’t kneel and offer him the gift in my hands, trying to win his favor.
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hands, trying to win his favor.
Patrick just laughed. “Well, serves you right for being so strict. Now he doesn’t like you!”
My in–laws joined in with their own barbs.
“A child knows when he’s grown. He knows his grandparents and his father are the ones who truly love him, not like some people
who pretend they’re doing what’s best for the child while actually abusing him.”
“If his mother was a gentle woman, our Danny would be even more successful!”
I nodded.
“Alright. Since it’s your birthday wish, I have no reason not to grant it. Let’s get a divorce.”
The chatter stopped abruptly.
Then, all four of them pursed their lips, trying to stifle their smirks.
Patrick crossed his legs, teasing me. “Sure, whatever. It’s the first time I’ve seen you so agreeable. We can go handle the paperwo-
rk tomorrow.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m busy tomorrow.”
They laughed even louder.
Daniel, with a look of smug certainty, sneered, “Here come the excuses. You don’t want a divorce at all. You’re just a control freak, a
shrew!”
I looked them straight in the eye. “What I mean is, it’s only noon. We don’t have to wait until tomorrow. We can get the divorce final-
ized this afternoon.”
My mother–in–law glared at me. “Stop pretending. I’d sooner believe the sky is falling than believe you’d actually go through with a
divorce! Just give Danny his gift!”
She reached over and snatched the envelope from my hand.
Daniel took it, tore it open carelessly, and muttered, “It’s so flat. Must be some cheap piece of junk. I don’t want it!”
He ripped the packaging open with a violent tug.
An admission ticket, sealed in a plastic sleeve, fluttered out.
When he saw what it was, his eyes lit up like the sun.
“It’s a ticket to the Saen Leadership Camp!”
I snatched the ticket back.
“Since you don’t want me as your mother anymore, you don’t get to have my things.”
