Chapter 4

I hired a caregiver to watch Tommy temporarily, then took my mother to the same hospital for a full check-up.

It turned out she had late-stage lung cancer.

When I got the report, I was in shock—after one terrible blow, another kept hitting me, and it felt like I couldn't breathe under the weight of the news.

My mother, however, remained calm, smiling to reassure me.

"A person's future is predestined. We all have hardships. But being sick doesn't mean death—there are people with cancer who live ten, even twenty years," she said.

She smiled as she said it, but my eyes welled up. She was trying to protect me from grief.

Mother agreed only to the most conservative treatment and checked into the hospital.

With both my child and mother hospitalized, I felt overwhelmed, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through.

I called David again.

The same woman answered.

"Emily, he's still sleeping. It's too early," she smiled.

"Didn't you tell him about the child?" I asked.

She sounded momentarily surprised, then laughed shyly.

"I didn't have a chance. After he came out of the shower yesterday, we had sex. He's tired and still asleep. Do you want me to give you the address so you can go find him yourself?" she offered.

Hah. What a shameless, arrogant little thing.

Before I could respond, she lowered her voice. "I shouldn't say more. Emily, he's waking up."

She hung up, and I felt a heavy, suffocating anger in my chest, struggling to breathe.

Then a message appeared on my phone—an address, sent by that arrogant little girl.

It was a suburban hotel.

I left the child and my mother in the caregiver's care and headed to the hotel.

As soon as I arrived, I saw David and her coming out of the hotel.

David glanced around—no one nearby.

He boldly pinched her waist, pressed his forehead to hers, and stole a quick kiss.

A wave of disgust ran through me, making me feel nauseous.

Of course, my hands were busy, too. Click, click—the camera captured it all.

I didn't confront them. Alone, I walked back.

When I was back at the hospital, Tommy was much better. His fever had gone down, and with two more days of IV fluids and proper care, he'd recover fully.

I worried more about my mother.

Sitting by her bedside, she held my hand optimistically, urging me to rest. "Emily, go home and get some sleep."

"I'm not tired, Mom," I insisted, trying to sound strong.

She shook her head. "If you collapse, there'll be no one left for this family."

My throat tightened.

To her, this family—our little trio—was enough.

"Alright," I said.

After checking with the doctor, I took Tommy home.

Once he was settled, I went to shower.

Not long after, I heard the door open. David had returned.

I finished quickly and stepped out, meeting him as he came out of Tommy's room.

He glanced at me, frowning. "How did Tommy get burned?"

I didn't answer—just asked, "Where have you been?"

His expression darkened. He seemed guilty, but instead of arguing, he slumped onto the sofa.

I sat across from him and pulled a document from the coffee table compartment, sliding it toward him.

I'd been working on these papers for the past couple of days and finally printed them out just now.

He looked at it impatiently. "What's this?"

"You'll see," I replied, keeping my voice steady.

He picked it up, his face changing.

"Divorce? And I walk away with nothing? Emily, what are you planning?" he demanded.

I smirked and pushed another item toward him—photos of him kissing that girl.

"I have backups. Want to show the court?" I said.

He trembled with anger.

"Don't go too far. Jessica King and I knew each other before you. We just didn't break up because our families didn't approve," he snapped.

That was what people say.

I stood up and flung the photos at him.

"The house and car are mine. All other property is split. The company is yours—I won't ask for it. That's my final bottom line. If you take this to court, don't blame me when you make a fool of yourself," I said.

"Emily, wait." He stood, furious.

"Leave some room for decency. You can't have everything," he warned.

"You talk about decency? Did you leave me any when you cheated?" I sneered.

My voice trembled. "I married you in the prime of my youth. I did the laundry, cooked, and kept the house. What did I get? My child is burned, my mom is hospitalized, and the home I worked so hard to maintain has been intruded upon."

"Your mother is sick?" David's eyes widened.

"Late-stage lung cancer. I've been busy—no time to argue with you. We're divorcing. If you don't like it, we'll see the court," I said.

David's expression softened slightly, hinting at compromise.

"You have three days to move out. We'll notarize everything. Tommy stays with me," I said, his tone icy, trying to assert control even while grudgingly giving in.

"No. Tommy is a Stone child," David said.

"If you want a Stone kid so badly, go make one with your mistress," I sneered, watching David's face turn sour. "What's wrong, David, can't your mistress even give you an heir?"

"You—" David sputtered, his face turning red with anger.

I didn't respond. Turning, I went into Tommy's room, shut the door, and let the world outside stay out of sight.