
Saved a Hundred Goodbyes
Chapter 3
Jordan was "still young"? He was already eight, which made him a year older than Carl! Being a child was definitely not an excuse for him to snatch other people's things!
But judging by Andrew's logic, Jordan was allowed to snatch Carl's watch when his own broke since he was still a child. Since his parents were divorced, he was also allowed to snatch someone else's father.
What about Carl, then?
Infuriated, I stared at the utterly shameless Andrew, ready to get into a shouting match with him.
However, Carl suddenly tugged at the hem of my shirt while shaking his head.
I knew he was an understanding kid, and he always worried about Andrew harming me. That was why whenever Andrew and I argued, Carl would pull at the hem of my shirt.
Regardless, it was different this time. I could see the clear disappointment in Carl's gaze toward Andrew, which made me pause.
While I was distracted, Andrew quickly seized the watch box and said in half-hearted concern, "I'm leaving. Take care of yourselves."
With that, he turned and left, accidentally bumping into the Lego tower that Carl had painstakingly built.
The tower crumbled, the broken pieces scattering across the floor. They resembled both my and Carl's shattered hearts.
Andrew didn't care about this home or about either of us.
In that case, I refused to plead for him to stay anymore. Instead, I focused on wiping away the tears clinging to Carl's lashes carefully.
However, right before Andrew stepped out of the villa, Carl handed him the bottle containing the candy wrappers.
Immediately understanding his intention, I spoke up on Carl's behalf. "Carl has already collected 100 candy wrappers. You can count them yourself."
Andrew paused in his tracks before turning to shoot us an astonished look. "Has he already gathered that many?"
"Yes."
Upon hearing that, he set down the things he was holding, a conflicted expression crossing his face.
Neither Carl nor I spoke. We merely waited for his answer.
As we expected, Andrew simply hesitated briefly before uttering, "Jenny and Jordan need someone with them right now, so…"
A hint of guilt flickered in his eyes. Nonetheless, he still crouched down to pat Carl's head and say, "Carl, let's forget about the promise I made with you, okay?"
I gently patted Carl on the shoulder, watching as he lowered his gaze and nodded.
Andrew was stunned. For a split second, he found it hard to believe that Carl actually agreed to his request so easily.
Then, he swept Carl into a tight hug and exclaimed, "Carl, I knew you were the most understanding kid around! Don't worry. Once Jordan has settled down, I'll spend time with you."
Carl didn't respond, not even with a nod. He simply turned and walked back to the living room alone. Grabbing a piece of paper, he scribbled out, "Daddy, I don't want you to come back anymore, but could you return my voice to me?"
By the time he finished writing the note, Andrew was already gone.
After reading the words, I wrapped my arms around Carl, my tears already streaming down my cheeks. At the same time, I kept murmuring assurances to him.
"It's okay. You still have me. I'll always be by your side."
I felt his tiny hand wipe away my tears, even as he forced himself to smile in an effort to comfort me back.
At that moment, I recalled what the doctor had said about Carl's mutism. It was a form of self-punishment, as Carl thought that he had made a serious mistake.
When I heard this explanation at the time, I felt as though someone had cut my heart deeply with a blade.
My son simply wanted his father to come home. What did he do wrong? Why did he have to go through such punishment?
In any case, we wouldn't cry anymore. There was no need for us to feel sad about Andrew's departure, nor would we hold out hope for his return.
After that day, it was like Carl and I had an unspoken agreement. We never brought up Andrew again, as though he had never even existed in this home.
I also bought us tickets to leave the country in three days. Once that time came, we would leave this place behind.
Carl was incredibly cooperative with his treatments, so he was now able to produce at least some sounds, though not actual words yet.
…
I was in the middle of drafting a divorce agreement when Andrew came back once more.
As usual, Carl was playing with his Lego bricks in the living room. Despite the appearance of the father he hadn't seen in a long time, there was not a hint of joy in his eyes.
Instead, he continued to play by himself quietly.
I didn't know what Andrew was up to this time, but he approached Carl with a pastry box in hand.
"Carl, I bought you some cake. Would you like to try some?"