Chapter 2
But if I left, it would mean the end of our child's life. Harley pleaded desperately for me to stay.
He told me he loved me, that our baby would love me too, and that we could build a real home together. He said he'd fight for our future and work hard to give me a good life.
In my old world, I'd always dreamed about my future partner, and Harley ticked off almost every box on my wish list.
Most importantly, I could feel the life growing inside me. This was my baby.
So I stayed. I wanted to see if the future could really be as beautiful as he promised.
But now, that dream was in pieces. The child I'd fought so hard to bring into this world still liked Ramona best.
Was it Ramona's protagonist halo, or was I really just that hopeless? I didn't want to think about it anymore. I buried myself under the covers and let sleep take me.
The next morning, the house was pure chaos. Harley was fuming helplessly, banging on the door with all his might.
Gaylord was bawling his eyes out, screaming for me. He'd had an allergic reaction, and the nanny didn't know what to do. Gaylord was too proud to come to me for help, so things blew up into a full-blown mess.
I ran my fingers through my tangled hair and opened the door—only to get a faceful of cold water.
"Have you caused enough trouble yet? You know Gaylord's health is fragile, that he's allergic to almost everything, and you still hold a grudge against him? Now he's having an allergic reaction. Are you happy now? What kind of mother are you?" Harley yelled.
He hurled the glass to the floor, grabbed his briefcase, and stormed out.
He always claimed Gaylord was his top priority, but when push came to shove, his job was all he really cared about. Everything else, including his son, just faded into the background.
My head was still spinning when I saw Gaylord sitting on the floor, looking all sad and helpless, reaching his little hands out to me.
His face was covered in little red bumps, swollen and blotchy. The nanny hovered nearby, looking so anxious you'd think she was about to get fired any second.
Honestly, with how obsessed I was with Gaylord, firing the nanny was exactly the kind of thing I'd do.
But to everyone's shock, I pulled out a whip and started smacking Gaylord with it.
He was already sobbing so hard he could barely catch his breath, but now he was wailing like a banshee, screaming at the top of his lungs.
"You washed-up nobody, what gives you the right to hit me? Dad said this house will be mine one day. You're just freeloading here, not even as good as a nanny. I'll make sure you get kicked out," Gaylord shouted.
He didn't even care about the pain, his little face stubbornly lifted, full of disgust for me.
"Gaylord, if you still can't mind your words, I won't hesitate to give you another beating," I said coldly.
I didn't hold back at all. Gaylord's hand was already swollen, his body jerking from the pain.
Seeing I was dead set on being tough, he stopped making a scene, stomped his little legs back to his room, and slammed the door loud enough for everyone to hear.
Two hours later, Harley called, and the moment I picked up, he started yelling at me, "How many times do I have to say it? Stop trying to compete for affection with our son. He's a kid, not some bargaining chip.
"You've got three minutes. Go apologize to him right now, or else—hmph, hmph," he threatened, making it sound like I knew exactly what would happen if I didn't.
Those two "hmph, hmph" were his way of warning me I'd crossed a line I couldn't come back from.
He was making it clear—if I couldn't take care of Gaylord, then there was no point in us staying together.
He thought he was in control, but the truth was, he'd never been the one calling the shots in this relationship.
By noon, Gaylord had cried himself hoarse, barely able to make a sound, and was burning up with a fever.
My heart just couldn't take it. I ended up rushing him to the hospital. The nanny was holding and soothing him the whole time, and Gaylord wouldn't even glance my way. He just turned his head, lost in his own little world.
I raised him, from a tiny, squishy baby to a little guy who could run, jump, and shout at me. God knew how much I put into him, and now look at us.
By now, I'd lost track of how many times my heart had shattered.
"Gaylord, I'm sorry, but you owe me an apology too for how you acted today," I said, trying to reach him.
I was just trying to fix the fragile bond between us, hoping we could still be mother and son.
Gaylord knocked everything off the table. The glass shattered, and a piece cut right into my ankle, leaving blood all over the floor.
The nanny was so shocked she forgot how to speak. Gaylord rasped out, his voice barely audible.
"Just leave. I don't want you here. Ramona's coming soon. She can be my mom. You're not my mom," he rasped, barely holding back tears.
This time, he looked totally serious, and there was a spark of excitement in his eyes.
I carried him for 40 weeks, gave birth without ever crying about the pain or how tired I was. And now, my son just told me he didn't want me anymore.
In that moment, I couldn't even put my feelings into words. It felt like my heart just stopped, like nothing mattered anymore.
"Scarlett, what crazy stunt are you pulling now?" Harley snapped, his voice dripping with annoyance.
Just when I was at my absolute worst, he showed up, hand in hand with Ramona. I glanced up at the father and son—they looked so much alike, and the way they both stared at Ramona, you'd think she was the only person in the room.
Gaylord, being just a kid, couldn't hide his feelings at all. He ran straight into Ramona's arms, sobbing his heart out.
"Ramona, I don't want my mom anymore. Can you be my mom instead?" he pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion.
The last person I ever wanted to look weak in front of was Ramona.
But neither my son nor my husband ever really understood me.
"Scarlett, we're in a hospital. What are you making a scene for? Act your age—picking on a kid? You can't even look after your own son properly. Frankly, I don't see what good you are.
"Just leave. Ramona's all we need here," Harley said.
His voice was heavy with exhaustion, like he'd finally hit his limit.
Ramona didn't say a word. She didn't need to. She'd already won. The two men who meant the most to me were both on her side. That was her protagonist halo—wherever she went, people just couldn't help but love her.