Not My Problem Anymore

Rhea stood nearby, watching me coldly.

I was lost in my thoughts when a sharp pain tore across my scalp.

Rhea had yanked me back to reality by the hair, her face twisted in anger.

"Go make chicken soup for Glen! Are you deaf? He's the future head of the Harretts. You'd better show some respect!"

She gave a violent tug. The moment she let go, my back slammed hard against the corner of the table, knocking the air out of me.

Pain shot through my whole body, and my chest tightened in pain, as if my heart was swelling from inside.

My back had been injured once before. I had taken the hit from a car while saving Rhea, leaving a long scar across my waist.

Back then, whenever her fingers brushed that scar, she would gently stroke it, her eyes welled up with tears.

Now, she pushed me against the table as if it meant nothing.

For a brief second, she froze as if she remembered my injury. But the hesitation vanished in an instant.

Her voice turned icy. "Quit acting so delicate. You're just a broke loser, so stop pretending you were made of glass."

I looked up at her, realizing how completely unfamiliar she had become. Whatever love I had left for her vanished right there.

That was when I saw Tristram Todd's small figure dart toward me.

Before I could react, he lunged and bit my wrist.

The pain was so sharp that it made me gasp. I tried to shake him off, but he clamped down harder, refusing to let go until his little jaw grew tired.

Then he finally released me, spitting out a bit of blood.

"Hmph! That's what you get for being mean to Glen! You're ugly, and you suck! I hate you!"

I stared numbly at my wrist, the skin torn and bleeding.

Rhea quickly scooped Tristram into her arms while Glen chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair.

Encouraged, Tristram's cheeks flushed red as he grabbed a toy from his hand and hurled it at me.

"Die, you demon! You're the worst!"

My body felt heavy as stone. I didn't even dodge. The toy struck my forehead, bounced off, and clattered onto the floor.

It felt as if something inside me was being torn apart, piece by piece.

Tristram had been born premature and weak. I had spent years looking after him, afraid to take my eyes off him for even a minute.

But the child I had loved with my whole life ended up setting the fire that killed me, just so he could have a father with a "better pedigree".

And now, to impress Glen, he bit me and hit me, wishing I would drop dead.

As Rhea carried him away, Tristram turned back and made a mocking face at me. Glen even praised him for being a brave little boy.

The three of them looked like one big happy family, leaning on each other as they disappeared down the hall.

The chill from the marble floor crept into my skin, and I couldn't stop shaking.

I glanced at my phone. My flight overseas was in 48 hours.

I started packing.

Ten years of marriage, yet all my belongings fit into a single suitcase.

Rhea had always said a country boy like me didn't understand luxury, so buying me anything expensive would be a waste.

The more I thought about it, the more pathetic I felt.

By the time I finished, the sun was already setting.

I checked my phone again and decided to grab dinner at my favorite restaurant before leaving town.

I just wanted a quiet evening to myself for once. But fate had other plans.

As I stepped out of the restaurant, I ran right into Rhea and Glen.

Glen was holding a bunch of shopping bags, while Rhea clung to his arm, looking soft and delicate beside him.

Behind them, Tristram tottered along with a few boxes in his little arms, his face glowing with pride.

The sight stabbed through me like a knife, and my chest tightened until I could barely breathe. Even the bite mark on my wrist started throbbing again.

Just as I began to lose my balance, someone caught me.

It was Myra Field, Rhea's rival in business, the woman she accused of stealing her projects more than once.

When Rhea approached us, Myra was holding my hand, examining the wound on my wrist.

Glen smirked. "Wow, Cassian, I didn't think you had it in you. So are you and Ms. Field an item now? Guess you've been keeping busy while Rhea was gone—"

Before he could finish the sentence, Myra's hand whipped across his face with a clean, echoing slap.