"Do you think Zachary will live happily once Steven and that woman get married? You must consider your son's future, Anna. Can you stand the thought of him living in the shadow of his stepsiblings?"
Of course, I had a hard time coming to terms with that in the past. I never wanted Zachary to experience even a bit of grievance. But what did that get me?
He did everything, including harming me and himself, just to get me out of the family.
I lost the desire to explain myself and only said, "She's very good to him."
Mom disliked my response. "But she'll never be able to love him the way you do."
I scoffed. "Actually, she might, judging from the fact that he calls her 'Mommy' every day now."
Mom frowned, obviously surprised that Zachary would behave so out of line. She was momentarily speechles in silence.
only held my hand.
Right then, I had an impulse to vent to her. "Both Steven and Zachary adore that mistress. I've long become the outcast in this family. So, I don't want a family like that anymore."
"You silly child." Mom looked at me with a mix of disappointment and frustration. "Zachary is too young and naive to realize what he's doing. Of course, he likes her because she's nice to her.
"If you're deserting him for such a minor reason, what will happen to him once Steven marries that mistress? She'll definitely leave all the family's inheritance to her own child. By then, Zachary will be left with nothing."
She patiently laid out the pros and cons of me getting a divorce, trying to make me realize how tragic Zachary's life would be if I let him go. But she didn't know that my heart had long turned cold and unfeeling toward Zachary.
"He chose her as his mother, so he should bear the consequences."
Seeing how not even the mention of Zachary could persuade me, Mom knew I had completely given up on my family. She patted my hand lightly. "Anna, at least do this for me, alright? Just try and get through it."
Hearing that brought me tears of grievance. She was my only family left in this world, yet… she desperately wanted me to stick around people who had hurt me.
At last, I exploded. "Get through it? Why do I have to suffer every single time? I have feelings, too. I get sad and hurt, too!"
Mom was taken aback by my reaction, clearly unprepared for how to continue persuading me. However, I knew what she was thinking. She probably wished I would choose the same path as women in her generation–to get through an unhealthy marriage until the end of their lives.
What I thought would be a comforting conversation with my mom ended up being a suffocating one. Without saying more, I left her place immediately.
over me.
Walking alone on the wide road, I watched the bustling pedestrians and the distant streetlights. Suddenly, a wave of loneliness washed
I was in a vast city, yet not one corner felt like a refuge for me.
I had nowhere to go since home was the last place I wanted to be. I even spent the last of my savings buying a grave for my baby. Penniless, I walked back to the hospital eventually.
When I opened the door to my room, I spotted a stranger's back. He was tall, dressed in a suit, and held a little girl's hand. Halting at the door, I glanced at the ward number and confirmed I had entered the correct room. This was my As such, I piped up, "Did you guys stumble upon the wrong room?"
ward.
The man turned on his heels and extended his hand at me. "No. We're at the right place.
We're here for you."
It was then I finally got a clear look at the man's face. His striking features were reminiscent of a celebrity, but he had a cold demeanor. Standing there, he radiated an untouchable and unapproachable air.
I would've remembered this man if I knew him, but I couldn't. No matter how much I tried to recall, it was futile. "Do I know you?"
The man was afraid to cause a misunderstanding and quickly explained, "Two days ago, we sent you to the ER after you fell down the stairs."
Oh.
Before this, I wholeheartedly believed Steven was the one who sent me to the emergency room after following me and hearing the loud thud. I guess I was wrong.
I looked at the man before me. "Thank you. You saved my life." He was quite literally my life savior, and I couldn't have just repaid him with verbal thanks. "I don't know how else to thank you."
He smiled faintly. "Well, I happen to need your help."
Since becoming a mother, I had been a stay–at–home wife, focusing on taking care of my husband and son.
Of course, I couldn't have foreseen the future–that was now–at that time. However, in many people's eyes, I had long been isolated from society, let alone having the ability to help others.
I was perplexed. "My help?"
"Yes." He nodded and then said, "Let me introduce myself. My name is Zane Huxham."
Then, he bent down to introduce the quiet little girl beside him, who had a doll–like face. "And this is Willow Huxham."
I crouched and gazed at the girl, extending my hand at her. "Hello, I'm Annalise Jamison."
Willow turned to Zane, her expression one of helplessness, but he encouraged her silently with a supportive look.
Finally, she shook hands with me and took her time to say, "Nice to meet you."
Her hand was as soft as a marshmallow. I smiled, replying, "Nice to meet you, too."
Immediately, Willow hid behind Zane and poked her head out to stare at me.
"Richard." Zane seemed not to want Willow to hear our upcoming conversation. "Take Willow out for a walk."
"Yes." The middle–aged man, Richard Cruze, originally guarding the door, entered the ward and picked up Willow.
She wrapped her hands around Zane's arm, looking reluctant to leave the room with Richard.
Zane gently coaxed, "Willow, you know why we're here to see Ms. Jamison, right?"
Willow nodded with hesitation.
Then, he continued, "What I'm about to say later isn't suitable for a child to hear, so I need you to take a walk with Richard for a bit. Just give me five minutes, and I'll come back for you. Is that alright?"
After receiving Zane's promise, Willow slowly released her grip and obediently followed Richard,
Once the door shut, he explained, "I'm Willow's uncle. Her parents died in a car crash last year. She was at the scene at that time and witnessed the tragedy of their deaths. Since then, she has refused to communicate with anyone."
He continued, "As of now, she hasn't spoken for two years. The doctor diagnosed her with severe autism. He advised us to encourage her to engage with others."
I patiently listened to his story.
Zane seemingly thought his direct approach would come off as too intrusive for me. "But we've tried plenty of ways, and none of them worked. Until… the day you picked up your kid at the kindergarten.
"Your kid, for some reason, called another woman his mother and left with her. Once Willow and I got home, she suddenly spoke up, expressing her desire for the mother whom Zachary had rejected to be hers.
"She even said you were very gentle and felt like a mother. She genuinely wants you to become her mommy."
Zane said everything at once, then looked seriously at me. "She actually started talking to me because of you. I was delighted and even thought that maybe if you spent time with Willow, she'd finally get better."
He threaded his words lightly. "So, excuse me if I'm crossing the line here, Ms. Jamison, but would you be so kind as to take on the role of Willow's nanny and mother?"