A bewildered Liam had once asked me who Ashley Hayes was. I didn’t know how to answer. So I said, “Let Daddy tell you, okay?”
The next morning, Julian returned home, his steps weary and unsteady. Liam, licking milk from the corner of his mouth, repeated the question. Julian suddenly lost his temper. “Cassidy Martin, you’re disgusting! You’re using the child!” He gestured towards Ashley. “She has cancer. What’s wrong with me taking care of her a little more?” He fixed his gaze on me. “You’ve already gotten so much. Why can’t you be generous and kind?!” I glanced at the faint, tell–tale red marks on his collar, understanding silently. Liam,
I
startled by his father’s outburst, burst into tears. Julian, his reason returning, apologized to me, but I said nothing.
Ashley’s company had business dealings with Julian’s, leading to increased interactions between them. Unbeknownst to me, Liam also grew increasingly dependent on her. I noticed the change one evening. I was, as usual, telling him a bedtime story. After only
two sentences, Liam started to fuss, demanding Ashley tell him a story instead. I had no choice but to let him. It was only afterwa-
rd that I realized the three of them had been doing many things behind my back.
Later, Ashley invited us to dinner for her birthday. Perhaps fueled by alcohol, she tearfully recounted her experiences over the past
few years. Liam’s face was filled with sympathy. He walked over, grasped her little finger, and kissed her cheek. “Pretty Auntie, don‘
t cry. Mom stole Daddy, so Liam will make it up to you.”
A vague premonition settled in my heart that Liam and I might grow distant. Yet, a sliver of hope lingered. He was my child, after
all; this blood connection couldn’t be severed. But that sliver of hope shattered the moment I heard Liam call her ‘Mom.‘
