It was my son’s eighteenth birthday. He made a wish for his grandparents to live long and healthy lives. He wished for his father’s success at work. When it was my turn, I looked at him with anticipation. He knew that more than anything, I just wanted to be healthy. Instead, he shot me a glare. “I wish for you to get a divorce and stay away from us.” I was stunned into silence. My husband, Patrick, just laughed at me. “Well, that’s what you get for being so strict with him all the time. Serves you right!” Later, my son emigrated, taking the entire family with him—everyone except me. When I begged him, he shook my hand away. “I’ve already found a new, gentler partner for Dad. Don’t you dare show up and ruin things!” And so, I died alone of a preventable illness in a cramped, tiny room. When I woke up, I was back on the day of my son’s eighteenth birthday. 1 When the building management found me, maggots had already started to fester on my legs. I was barely breathing, hanging on by a single thread. For the first time, my small apartment was full of people. Management staff, social workers. A young caregiver gently fed me, urging me to keep fighting. Someone questioned, “This illness wasn't hard to treat in the beginning. How did it get this bad? Where’s her family?” I couldn’t speak. They recognized my son from the photos covering the walls. “Wow, her son is that famous? The renowned entrepreneur, on the list of the wealthiest people.” “That’s strange. Why didn’t he take her with him when he emigrated? In his last interview, he said his whole family was by his side.” Soon, they managed to contact him. I struggled to lift my head, trying to get a clear look at the man on the screen. It had been nearly twenty years since I’d last seen him. He was a fifty-year-old man now, but in my eyes, he was still the boy I remembered. With every ounce of strength I had left, I managed to whisper his name. “Danny…” He frowned. “Why aren’t you dead yet?” Then, he hung up. A volunteer called him back. “How could you say that? Your mother is holding on by a thread just to see you one last time. The doctor says she doesn’t have much time. Shouldn’t you come back and handle her final affairs?” An impatient “Tsk” came from the other end. “Let me be honest with you. She’s just some old woman to me, a stranger. Whether she lives or dies has nothing to do with me. Bury her, scatter her ashes in the sea, I don’t care. Just stop bothering me.” Tears welled in my eyes. Flashes of memory flickered before me. My son’s life, from infancy to adulthood, replayed in my mind. Suddenly, one scene froze. I blinked, disoriented. I found myself standing in front of the bathroom mirror, my face young again. 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. 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 paperwork 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 finalized 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.” 3 The smiles vanished from their four faces. Patrick pointed a finger at me. “Are you serious? Always blowing things out of proportion! He’s your son! Who else would you give it to?” My mother-in-law’s words were laced with poison. “She must have a lover on the side. You can take the girl out of the sticks, but you can’t take the sticks out of the girl!” I’d heard those words countless times in my past life. Each time, they brought me to tears. But I endured it all, just so my son could have a complete family. In the end, my endurance became a joke. If that’s the case, why should I endure anything anymore? “Cut the crap. Are we getting a divorce or not?” Just as Patrick was about to speak, Daniel leaped to his feet, pointing and screaming at me. “To hell with you, you old hag! Divorce! Dad, divorce her! What’s the big deal about one stupid ticket? If you can get one, don’t you think Dad can? Or Grandma?” His nostrils flared with rage, his eyes like a wolf’s, burning with fury. Ever since he could remember, he’d said things like this. His dad was a sales manager who made good money. His grandparents were retired teachers, educated people. I was the only one from a small town with a community college degree, uncultured and empty-headed. All four of them treated my years of devotion as if they were nothing. I always thought, It’ll be better when he’s older. It’ll be better when he sees the world. Then he would understand how much I’d done for him. So, in my past life, I used this ticket to send him out to see that wider world. In the end, all I got in return was to be sent to a rundown building, to live out my final days in a semi-basement studio apartment. How pathetic. Hearing his words again, I didn’t argue. I just nodded. “Of course. They’re so capable, they can definitely get one.” The expressions on the other three changed. They looked like they wanted to say something but couldn’t. I took a deep breath. “Marital assets, fifty-fifty split. You get custody of the child. That’s it.” I walked into the bedroom to pack my things, not wanting to stay a second longer. Daniel was still shouting outside. My in-laws were coddling him like a little emperor, and their method of comfort was to tear me down. “Mommy is vicious, Mommy is bad. She’ll get what’s coming to her. Don’t be angry, Danny, it’s not good for you.” “Your mom would never leave you. She’s just saying that. You’re her only child. How could she survive without you? A small-town woman like her, so old-fashioned, she can’t make it on her own.” Daniel was still yelling. “I just don’t want her as my mom! Damn it, can’t she just go die?” A pang of pain still shot through my heart. By the time I had packed two large suitcases, it was quiet outside. Patrick opened the door. Hands in his pockets, he looked down at me with a smirk. “Putting on a good show, aren’t you? Fine, you want to act? Let’s go. We’ll go get divorced right now.” I pulled out my ID and marriage certificate. “Let’s go.” His smile froze. “You want a divorce? Fine. You leave with nothing, and I’ll sign. How about that?” I laughed. “Oh, so you don’t want me to leave after all. You’re just trying to provoke me into staying?” “Me, not want you to leave? What a joke! Where would you even go without us? Fifty-fifty, you said? Fine! I’ll give it to you! Don’t you dare back down now!” 4 It was only at the registrar’s office that I understood why Patrick had been so bold. He had transferred ninety percent of our marital assets. Even the house was in his parents’ names. My half of the remaining assets amounted to less than three thousand dollars. He signed the papers without hesitation. I sighed. I really didn't want to waste any more time on them. I picked up the pen and signed my name just as quickly. Patrick’s expression shifted. “You’ll regret this impulsive little act of yours. You’re the one who’s going to suffer. Let’s see how you win back your son now! I’m not withdrawing this application unless you kneel and beg me. Just wait thirty days until you’re officially kicked out of my house!” He glanced down at my knees, expecting me to drop and apologize. After all, this had happened many times before. He would force me to file for divorce, then use our son to threaten me into kneeling and begging him to withdraw it. In the past, for Daniel’s sake, I could never go through with it. This time, I stood up, gave his knee a sharp kick, and walked out. He chased after me, calling me a “vicious hag.” I ignored him. I listened to his curses all the way home. The moment I opened the door, I sensed something was off. My in-laws were whispering to Daniel, nudging him forward. The next second, he walked toward me, his face a mask of resentment. “Hey. Give me the ticket, and I’ll forget what you did. I’ll… graciously let you continue being my mom.” I smiled and shook my head. “No need to be gracious. I quit.” He looked ready to explode. My mother-in-law quickly restrained him and showed me his glasses. “Eliza, stop this nonsense. Look how thick his glasses are. You know better than anyone how hard he’s worked for this. If he misses this chance to study abroad, he’ll have to take the standard exams like everyone else here and live a normal, hopeless life.” I raised an eyebrow. “How could that be? You and his father are so capable. You’ll find a way to get a ticket, won’t you?” They frowned. Patrick yelled, “If you can do it, of course we can! But we’re busy, we don’t have time. Besides, you already have one. If we don’t use it, you’ll just accuse us of hurting your feelings later!” Four pairs of eyes were locked on the ticket in my hand. I looked at my son’s stubborn, arrogant expression, and at the glasses that were indeed much thicker than last year’s. My heart softened, just for a moment. Fine. This is the last time. I took out the ticket and handed it to him. “From now on, we are even.” He snatched it away with a huff. “So dramatic! Now hurry up and go make some ice cream. I want blueberry! Otherwise, I’ll tell Dad to really divorce you!”
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "392989", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel