Two months ago, our son had nosebleeds, coinciding with Shawn's research institute meeting. I took our son for a check-up, where he was diagnosed with leukemia.
I had hoped my successful bone marrow match would suffice.
Fortunately, the match was successful.
Unfortunately, my breast tumor was malignant and had spread.
Our son fell ill rapidly, and I comforted him, assuring him his father, like his Superman toy, would come to save him.
I had never been so desperate to find Shawn since our marriage.
I didn't expect him to be a perfect match, but at that moment, both my son and I needed him.
Yet, this time, he believed I was jealous and promptly hung up, playing the vanishing act.
Our son was only six, waiting for his father to come to save him, but in the end, he never showed up.
I couldn't fathom the despair our son felt waiting in vain.
Thinking of this, I hugged our son's favorite toy tightly, feeling a sharp pain in my heart.
As I glanced up, I saw two familiar figures at the clinic's entrance.
Jennifer was pale, clutching her stomach, and Shawn was wearing a pained expression.