Chapter 8
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Margaret set down her phone: “It’s nothing.”
Charles showed no interest in her affairs, looking down at her: “The Rivera boy publicly calling Barbara his mother was his mistake. But he’s just a six–year–old who doesn’t understand anything. Besides, you weren’t entirely blameless either–let’s just drop this matter.”
His tone remained calm, like suggesting a duckling who wandered to the wrong mother should simply find another.
Margaret felt her heart wrench. He never considered that a child wouldn’t speak like this without constant exposure to such ideas.
She opened her mouth to confront him, but the mention of the cooling–off period drained her completely.
“Fine.”
She collapsed onto the hospital bed, exhaustion swallowing even the will to defend herself.
Love’s presence or absence couldn’t be clearer.
Charles rolled his eyes at her half–dead look. “The kindergarten field trip’s next week. Barbara and I will take him. Remember to transfer the funds.”
He smirked, waiting for Margaret’s usual screaming fit.
But Margaret didn’t, merely nodding faintly: “Alright.”
That was the alimony he’d promised.
Charles watched her unusual demeanor, brows furrowed unconsciously when his phone suddenly rang out: “The guys are meeting at the riding club this afternoon. I’m heading out.”
As the hospital door finally clicked shut, Margaret heaved a heavy sigh.
She feared if this continued, she couldn’t keep up the calm facade.
Truth was, Victor’s school trip never included her. Mentioning it now was just Charles‘ blatant provocation–trying to awaken this woman’s possessiveness.
Yet all efforts proved futile. Even when they texted her on Facebook with photos of their trio outing, Margaret re- mained unmoved.
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Chapter 8
But even so, Barbara persisted.
Scrolling through her social media feed filled with sweet moments with the child,
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the endless nine–grid posts of the kid made her think Barbara genuinely loved children and was more suited for moth- erhood than she’d ever be.
In one photo, the child slept soundly against Charles’s back after tiring studies, crown removed, while Barbara stood beside them fanning gently–a perfect portrait of family harmony.
Just then, the kindergarten parents‘ facebook group buzzed with new photos; professional shots capturing precious moments alongside parents‘ own snapshots.
These were the final selections.
Golden sunset melted through willow silhouettes, scattering light across the family trio’s outline like a warm, timeless freeze–frame of domestic bliss.
No one knew who in the facebook group flattered: “The parents of young Rivera are really good–looking. This family of three was carefully crafted by an angel.”
“Isn’t that true. When I’m with my child’s father, people who don’t know might think he’s rich.”
“Haha, Yaya’s mom, don’t say that. Every family has its strengths, but the Rivera family is all good–looking.”
The originally harmonious atmosphere was broken when someone asked: “This is young Rivera’s mom? Then who was the woman that came to the hospital that day?”
The chat instantly went silent. Ten minutes later, young Rivera took Charles’s phone and said in a childish voice: “That’s my dad’s good friend.”
Seeing this, Margaret couldn’t hold on any longer. She slowly put down her pen, then pushed everything on the table to the floor. Had Charles forgotten that young Rivera was only six years old? Even though he was naturally clever, he wasn’t at an age to recognize all Chinese characters.
Charles had always thought that by skipping work to please Margaret, she’d at least earn a close friendship.
Fine. Even if she left now, there’d be no lingering attachments.
This was Charles’s first study trip. The day after returning, he still couldn’t resist bragging everywhere.
Chatting with Granny Zhang, he spotted Margaret out the corner of his eye and deliberately raised his voice: “Granny Zhang, you should’ve seen how cool Aunt Barbara is! Her lunch box had a Doraemon inside–all my classmates were so jealous!”
His eyes lit up as he continued: “But we ran out of time to finish eating. It left me too weak during the hike–Aunt Barbara had to hold my hand and we both tumbled down. Look!”
He peeled back his shorts to reveal a Doraemon bandage plastered over his scraped knee.
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