I was groomed to be the perfect daughter-in-law for the Vance family since I was a child. At twenty, I married Harrison Vance. At twenty-four, I gave birth to Ethan. Ethan is just like Harrison—always silent, reserved, and not particularly close to me. Every night in the past, I would bring a glass of warm milk to both father and son before they went to sleep. But on this day, Harrison accidentally knocked over his glass, and Ethan secretly poured his down the sink. Suddenly, I felt exhausted. The moment I handed the divorce papers to Harrison. He furrowed his brow, displeased, and asked, "Just because of that?" "Yes, just because of that." 1 "What about our son? "What do you plan to do about Ethan?" Harrison returned to his usual expressionless demeanor, asking me in a strictly business tone. I sat across from him, like a client at his negotiation table, and spoke calmly. "I will give up custody of him. "The property in the East Suburbs will also be transferred to his name, as compensation in lieu of child support." After all, the child carries the Vance surname. Compared to being with me, he and Harrison look like the real family. Harrison lowered his gaze to look at me, his emotions barely visible, as if he couldn't understand what kind of tantrum I was throwing. "Lily," he softened his tone, "If you can't get over the milk incident, I apologize. You know I was drunk last night; I didn't mean to treat you that way." He explained patiently, persistently believing the problem was just that glass of milk. Last night, Harrison came back very late from a social engagement. I waited up half the night, only waking up when the cold air followed him through the door. I climbed off the sofa, seeing him take off his coat while rubbing his forehead in discomfort. I immediately went to the kitchen to bring him the milk I had kept warm for hours. Usually, although our marital affection wasn't deep, we at least maintained a decent façade. But last night, I asked one extra question: "Did you see someone? The perfume on you smells familiar." Harrison suddenly let go of the hand reaching for the milk. I didn't react in time. The glass slipped from our touching fingertips, shattering the silence of the room under the warm lights. Harrison’s expression turned frosty, his aura radiating irritation. He looked at me coldly and warned, "Lily, you've crossed the line. "In the future, don't wait up for me at night, and there's no need to prepare milk for me anymore." And my son, Ethan, after seeing his father's reaction, secretly poured his milk down the drain. When I caught him, he stood at the doorway, apologizing to me with the same lack of emotion: "I'm sorry, Mom. If Dad isn't drinking it, I don't want to drink it either." Perhaps in the eyes of this father and son, this was such a trivial, insignificant matter. I couldn't, and shouldn't, make such a big fuss over it. 2 I offered no further explanation. I signed the papers and entrusted everything to my lawyer. I chose to end this marriage with Harrison. Harrison spoke indifferently about the division of assets. I didn't listen closely, nor did I care much. I went back to the room to organize my things. He looked down at me. "Lily, the procedures take time. You don't need to move out in such a hurry. I can leave this house to you." I glanced at this man who remained steady and indifferent. Calmly, I replied using words he once said to me: "It's better to do things cleanly and efficiently, to avoid dragging things out and leaving problems behind." Harrison said nothing more. I never thought packing would be such a difficult task to start. The house was full of trivial items, every little detail arranged by my own hands over the years. I scanned the room, finally deciding on a simple solution. I dragged my suitcase toward the door. Harrison stopped me. "Where are you going? "To your parents' house? "I'll have the driver take you." "No need," I refused, telling him, "Remember to have the housekeeper clear out the rest of my things tomorrow. I won't be dealing with them." After all, their family didn't lack people to do the work. As I stepped out the main door, I thought for a moment. I turned back and spoke to Ethan, who was standing behind Harrison with that perpetual poker face. "I won't be picking you up from kindergarten anymore. Remember not to go with strangers." Consider it my final duty to myself. After saying that, I turned and left. I didn't look back once at the child I had rocked in my arms night after night, patiently soothing him when he was weaning and crying. 3 I bought a plane ticket out of New York. I randomly selected a southern city, Charleston. Since I was fourteen and told I would marry into the Vance family, my freedom and choices had been restricted. Later, after marrying Harrison, he never offered to take me out unless it was for necessary social events. My most common life routine was probably waiting for the father and son to come home every night and delivering a glass of warm milk before bed. Everyone in our circle said Mrs. Vance had raised me well, that I was a wife custom-made for Harrison. Worthy of his status, capable of taking care of his life. The only flaw was: I was too perfect. Perfect to the point of being boring, appearing a bit rigid. I once heard Harrison's friends teasing him. "Harrison, what's it like living like an old married couple at such a young age? "Your wife is too dull; she smiles like a mannequin. "Want us to introduce you to someone interesting? "Just a few days ago, Leo met a funny girl, really hilarious, just like Victoria used to be. How about it, interested?" Victoria. Harrison's first love. Back then, Mrs. Vance didn't agree to them being together, and Harrison resisted in every way possible. Later, I don't know what happened. They broke up, and Victoria went to Europe. After that, when he was twenty-four, Harrison suddenly accepted the family's arrangement and proposed to me. Four years later, I gave birth to Ethan. Oh, right, I remember now. The familiar perfume I smelled that night was the one Victoria used to love. A custom-blended gardenia scent. 4 After finding a place to stay in Charleston. I wandered around many places. The southern humidity, the historic cobblestone streets, everything made me tireless. Unexpectedly, on the morning of the third day, I received a call from Harrison. He seemed to have just woken up, asking me in a hoarse voice, "Lily, where is that pair of ruby cufflinks you bought me at the auction last year?" I paused. "In the second drawer of the island in the walk-in closet." I asked him, "What's the occasion?" Harrison: "A mall ribbon-cutting ceremony." Me: "The matching suit is the fourth one in the second row." Harrison didn't seem fully awake yet. The sound of him rummaging came through the phone, along with faint complaints. I listened for a while, then asked, "Did you find it?" The noise on the other side stopped, as if he finally reacted. "Found it. "Sorry, didn't mean to bother you." I hummed an acknowledgment and said, "I know." I instructed him, "Ask the housekeeper to reorganize your room. If you can't find things in the future, ask them. "From now on, don't call me to trouble me anymore." Harrison was silent for a moment, then said, "Okay." After hanging up, I blocked his number and fell back asleep. But this sleep was restless. I had many bizarre dreams. There was the fourteen-year-old me laughing and playing with classmates on campus. There was the sunny day when I first met Harrison at fifteen. There was the pain of my father breaking my leg when I was sixteen and tried to sneak out to race cars. And... Another piercing ringtone. I woke up with a start, irritably grabbing the phone from the nightstand. It was an unfamiliar number. I pressed answer, and a polite inquiry came from the other side. "Hello, is this Ethan Vance's mother? "I'm Ethan's kindergarten teacher. It's like this, today the school is holding a robotics exhibition. Ethan is participating, but he didn't bring his project. He said you prepared it for him. Would it be convenient for you to drop it off for the child?" The teacher was very enthusiastic. My fingers gripping the phone tightened. I closed my eyes, feeling an unspeakable exhaustion. Not long ago, I was sitting in the living room, head bowed, learning frame by frame from a video blueprint to do Ethan's manual homework for him. I just left too quickly that day; the robot was still a semi-finished product. I looked at the blazing sun already high outside the window and replied softly to the teacher, "I'm sorry, teacher. Ethan's custody no longer belongs to me, and I won't be responsible for him anymore. "Also... is he right next to you?" "Ah." The teacher was quite embarrassed. "Yes, yes, Ethan is right beside me." I sighed. "Could you please put me on speaker?" "O-okay." "Thank you." The noise of the phone moving came through, followed by silence. I figured Ethan could hear me. I spoke softly, "Ethan, the robot is in the toy box in your room. "You can call your dad to bring it to you, or ask anyone else to send it, but in the future, I hope you don't call me anymore. I won't pick you up, and I won't help you with your crafts. You know this—I am not your mother anymore." After finishing, I apologized to the teacher again and hung up the phone.
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