My Wife's Biased Choice

Synopsis

Had you ever seen a five-year-old stare at his own mother with lifeless eyes, as if all the light in his soul had gone out? On the day of the kindergarten stampede, my wife herself pried our son's fingers off her hand. Not out of panic. But because, just three meters away, there was a child she was more desperate to save. When I finally pulled my son out from the pile of bodies, his face was smeared with blood, but he didn't cry. He just stared at me with those dead, empty eyes and quietly said, "Dad, let's go. Let's find a place where Mom will never find us." Five years old. He was only five years old. Later, I found out that the "other people's daughter" my wife had risked everything to protect was never really someone else's kid. So, what did you think back then? When a man realized he had been nothing but a tool for five years, should he have started smashing things, or just poured himself a drink first?