Chapter 1
Chapter-1
On the third day of my business trip, a new female parent suddenly joined my son's parent chat group, which had been quiet for so long.
I clicked on the voice message, and an unfamiliar, sweet female voice played.
"Hello everyone, I'm the new language arts teacher at the school, and I'm also Dylan's mom. Looking forward to getting to know you all~"
My whole body stiffened. I clicked into the group members list and compared them repeatedly.
My son's name is Dylan. She says she's Dylan's mom. Then who am I?
I immediately called my husband.
"Did someone get added to Dylan's parent group by mistake?"
On the other end of the line, his voice paused for a moment, then he laughed casually as if nothing was wrong.
"Oh, probably just a mix-up. There are so many kids at the school, it's normal to have duplicate names. Did something happen?"
I said with a smile that it was nothing, then hung up. That same night, I caught the first flight back and headed straight to my son's school.
The plane landed and I took a cab directly to my son's elementary school.
He's seven years old this year, in first grade.
It was 1 PM—the first class had just started.
The security guard was very responsible. As soon as he learned I was a student's parent, he called the homeroom teacher.
A few minutes later, a girl wearing a white shirt and black skirt, looking like she'd just graduated, came running out quickly.
Her looks were average, barely pretty enough to be called delicate, but she spoke very gently, in a soft voice.
A woman's intuition told me she was the person I was looking for.
Sure enough, the moment she saw me, she panicked.
Her face turned frighteningly pale, and her hands and feet trembled uncontrollably, as if she'd seen some terrible beast.
"Th-this parent, is there something—something you need at the school?"
She was so scared she could barely speak clearly.
Yet she had the audacity to announce in my son's parent group that she was his mother.
"I saw the group message."
Right in front of the security guard, I laid it out directly.
"You said you're Dylan's mom? I'm very curious about that."
The girl's hands, hanging at her knees, clenched instantly. Then, with a panicked expression, she glanced at the security guard and forced out a smile to explain.
"Oh, that... it's because the school is about to have a parent-teacher conference, and Dylan's dad said he and his wife are both very busy and don't have time."
"To keep Dylan from being sad, he specially asked me to pretend."
"If this has caused you any trouble, I'm very sorry!"
What a perfect explanation. Not only did it clear her of any relationship, but it also took a swipe at me—the one busy on a business trip and not at home.
If I hadn't carefully studied her social media, I might have actually believed her.
Wednesday night at 8 PM, the Grand Theater.
She posted a photo of a man's back buying roses.
Caption: [The man I love isn't a prince—he's a king.]
The next day, I ended up in the hospital because of a pollen allergy.
Friday afternoon at 6 PM, heavy rain in the city.
She posted a selfie of herself sheltering under the school eaves.
Caption: [When will my king come pick me up and take me home?]
Three minutes later, Marcus sent me a message.
"Honey, I have to work late tonight. I can't pick up our son. Sorry to trouble you."
I was getting an IV drip at the hospital when I received the message, drowsy from the medication.
By the time I saw the message, two hours had passed.
No one picked up my son. He stood in the cold wind at the security booth for two full hours.
That night, he spiked a fever of 102 degrees.
On the way to the hospital, Marcus kept sighing. Every word blamed me for not checking my phone.
I really thought I wasn't a good mother. Touching my son's flushed face, I said "I'm sorry" all night long.
But it turned out the one who should apologize wasn't me.
My hand gripping my purse turned white from the pressure. My gaze slowly swept over the girl's guilty, flustered face.
It landed on the glaring blue on her earlobe, and I smiled knowingly.
"Miss Rain's earrings are beautiful. Did your boyfriend give them to you? They must have been expensive, right?"
Last week on Valentine's Day, I personally discovered Marcus's shopping records.
A pure gold bracelet and a pair of sapphire earrings.
The bracelet cost five thousand dollars—worn on my wrist.
The earrings cost thirty-eight thousand—given by him to the woman standing in front of me.
When Rain heard my words, her face went pale instantly. Her lips trembled for a long time, but she couldn't squeeze out a single word.
Worthless.
That word suddenly popped into my mind.
Without looking at her again, I turned and left.
On the way home, I called my father. He was Marcus's direct superior, the man in control of the White Group.
"Dad, I need a favor."
I changed my phone wallpaper from our family photo to one of just me and my son, my voice unnaturally calm.
"The marketing director position we promised Marcus—cancel it. And find me the best divorce lawyer. I'm divorcing Marcus."
"Yes, he cheated on me with my son's language arts teacher."