Chapter 10
Today was a Sunday. As soon as I opened the door, I saw Julian holding onto a large photo album.
He acted casually, slipping through the door crack and sat on the couch. It was as if he had forgotten that he had called me to beg
for his forgiveness the last time he was here.
Julian flipped open the photo album and pulled me over. “Look, Mommy–this was when I was still in your tummy! And this was
when I was just born! Aren’t I cute? Grandma said I was the cutest baby in the entire hospital!”
He was trying to stir up my motherly love for him. But as I looked at my photo, all I felt was a deep sense of pity for the person I
was back then.
I was looking gaunt in the photo, yet my belly was round and swollen.
Back then, I was tormented by morning sickness, throwing up everything I ate. I looked completely drained, even my hair was dry
and lifeless.
Julian was especially mischievous, always kicking me in the middle of the night.
Looking at the photos, I couldn’t help but sigh. “How selfish.”
“What did you say, Mommy?” Julian looked at me, confused.
“In the photos, I was weak and frail from my pregnancy, yet your focus was only on yourself. You had no idea how hard it was for
me to carry you throughout my pregnancy term.”
Julian would never empathize with me, nor would he understand the sacrifices I made for him. He was the same as Yohan–they
were both egotistical people.
I closed the photo album. “Please leave. These photos only remind me of my painful memories.”
Julian made a fuss and refused to leave. In the end, the Palmers‘ housekeeper, George Fisher, had to bring him back.
Julian was upset after he left the last time. He showed up again a few days later, this time with a ceramic plate in hand. “Mommy,
look! This is the plate you made for me. You said you worked on it the whole day.”
“Oh? So why was it broken then?” I asked.
Julian started stammering, but I knew it was shattered by him.
He found it too ugly and was too embarrassed to bring it to school. The shattered ceramic pieces even cut into my arm, leaving a
scar that still hadn’t faded.
I wasn’t particularly an artistic person. This ceramic plate was the best among the dozen I had made.
png 1/2
Chapter 10
+25 Bonus
In the end, Yohan bought him a piece from an artist to bring to school, while I painstakingly glued this plate back together piece
by piece.
But regardless of what it was, once it was cracked, it could never be recovered completely.
“This is already defective,” I said, casually tossing it into the trash, shattering it at once. “Since you already have a brand new replacement, there’s no need for you to keep this.”
Julian stared at the shattered plate, taken aback. After that, he realized something and looked up happily. “Did you recover your memories and remember me, Mommy?”
I shook my head. “I never did lose my memories. I just no longer wanted to remember anything to do with you and Yohan.”
I wasn’t planning to say anything more to him. I kicked him out, and he left dejectedly.
There was a social gathering involving alcohol this evening. Samuel insisted on coming along when he found out about it.
He was worried I might drink too much, but he was the one who was unable to hold his liquor.
As we both had drinks, none of us could drive. Since it was close to home, I helped Samuel up and planned to walk home, hoping that the cold wind might help sober us up.
While he was drunk, I pretended to ask him nonchalantly, “Do you like me, Samuel?”
Samuel’s eyes lit up as he stared at me for a good while. He then averted his gaze suddenly and nodded firmly, his face red.
My heart was racing wildly, and I quickly switched the topic. “What drinks did you have earlier?”
Samuel pondered for a moment before replying, “I think it’s brandy.”
“Is that so? Can you bend down for a bit?” I asked.
Samuel bent down obediently and looked at me. His lips were full and plump, and I reached out to press a kiss on him.
I licked my lips to savor the taste–it felt soft, like an alcoholic marshmallow.
Samuel, despite being drunk, widened his eyes in shock as he was caught off guard.
