Because that night, he hung up on me many times.
The only time he picked up, he said only one thing.
"I'm busy right now, don't bother me."
In the dead of night, what could he possibly be busy with Amelia?
"It's okay... We still have Michael."
He forced a casual laugh, but his expression was even uglier than if he had cried.
Before I could respond, he walked to the room and skillfully closed the door.
It seemed like he had forgotten that our true eldest son, Michael, had been separated from me since birth.
For so many years, he has harbored the most resentment towards me.
As I gazed at the closed door, for the first time, I didn't try to reconcile.
Throughout our seven years of marriage, I had always been the one to make amends in every conflict.
About half a year ago, our conflicts intensified, and I acted out of selfish desire, thinking that having another child whom I could raise myself would surely ease the tension in our family.
It would also allow me to experience the long-lost affection through the baby.
But I was wrong. With the baby's departure, the conflict between us had reached an irreconcilable point.
"Goodbye, Irvin."
I muttered to myself as I faced the door.