After finishing, I went to Liam’s room. Everything was still the same—the bedding still in place, his tiny pillow still carrying the faint scent of milk. But Liam would never return to sleep in it again.
Underneath his pillow, I found a small wishing bottle. Inside was a note, written by his teacher, recording his birthday wish.
"The teacher said a man must be brave, so this year, I finally gathered the courage to tell Daddy that I wanted a birthday present. But before I could even finish my sentence, Daddy walked away angrily. Actually, all I wanted was for Daddy to stay with me on my birthday, even just for an hour. Thirty minutes would be fine. I’d be happy… really happy."
Tears blurred my vision. Willy, is this what you saw as ambition? Was a child’s innocent wish truly that unbearable for you?
I printed the divorce papers that night, then clung to Liam’s quilt, breathing in his scent as I sobbed until dawn.
***
The next morning, Willy, despite his usual obsession with cleanliness, personally cleaned my wound, changed my bandages and carefully wrapped them with gauze.
The nanny beside us looked envious of his attentiveness, but my heart was dead inside.