The “Strawberry Juice” That Saved My Son Chapter 03

The “Strawberry Juice” That Saved My Son Chapter 03

The air in the medical tent grew heavier.

Noah’s face burned red with fever. His small body curled into itself, and even in sleep, his brows stayed tight.

The wet towel on his forehead had already been changed three times, but the fever still showed no sign of going down.

I hovered above him, frantic.

I wanted so badly to touch his forehead again, the way I had so many nights before.

When Noah was little, he had always been weak. Every change of season brought a fever.

Whenever he burned until he was dazed, I stayed awake all night and wiped his body again and again with warm water.

After the fever broke, I would make him a bowl of his favorite pumpkin porridge.

But now, all I could do was watch him suffer.

I watched his cracked lips.

I watched the nurse push a cold needle into his small arm.

I wanted to hold him.

I wanted to press my cool palm to his forehead.

I wanted to tell him Mommy had not left.

But I was only a trace of air, unable to touch anything or stay anywhere.

Ethan stood beside him, and the crease between his brows never eased.

He reached out to remove the lumpy backpack from Noah’s arms so he could sleep more comfortably.

But the moment he touched it, Noah opened his eyes.

He used all his strength to drag the backpack tightly into his arms.

“Don’t touch it!” His voice was hoarse and full of tears. “It’s for Mommy!”

Ethan’s hand froze in midair.

“I have to keep it safe for Mommy!”

Noah’s tears fell in large drops onto the canvas bag.

“It’s the gift Daddy gave Mommy… If Mommy keeps it, you won’t fight anymore…”

I floated near the roof of the tent, and my heart twisted sharply.

Sorrow flooded me all at once.

My foolish little boy.

He was only three, yet he had already become sensitive enough to try to mend the huge crack between us.

After listening to Noah’s broken words, Ethan’s expression darkened.

“What are you talking about?” he growled. “Did Joy tell you about our fights? Is that what she taught you?”

I rushed to his side and screamed into his ear.

“I didn’t! I never said a single word to him!”

He could not hear me.

He snatched the backpack from Noah’s arms, unzipped it, and dumped everything out roughly.

A few cookie crumbs, an empty water bottle, and a teddy bear fell out.

I remembered that teddy bear.

It was from our third Valentine’s Day after we got married.

That morning, I had seen Ethan’s phone screen before he could turn it off.

There was a photo of him and Claire.

They stood close together, both smiling brightly.

Under the photo was a line of text.

“Ethan, someone on the team took this. I love it.”

Below that was a flirty message I had not dared to read carefully.

Just a few days earlier, I had found a jewelry box hidden in the corner of his closet.

Inside was the gold necklace I had looked at several times at the jewelry counter but never had the heart to buy.

At the time, I thought it was a surprise for me.

But that night, what he gave me was a teddy bear.

All my hurt and suspicion reached their breaking point in that moment.

I looked at him without speaking.

He thought I was throwing another tantrum.

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

I did not answer.

I walked to the door and threw the bear into the hallway trash can.

We had a terrible fight.

But for Noah’s sake, I never exposed anything.

I thought that if I endured it, I could give him a complete family and a complete childhood.

Only now did I understand.

The child had known everything.

And in his own clumsy way, he had been trying to love both of us.

Ethan picked up the teddy bear, irritation and confusion mixing in his eyes.

He probably never thought I would pick it up again after throwing it away.

He definitely never thought our son would treasure it.

“You’re crying over this thing?”

He squeezed the bear in frustration.

Suddenly, his fingers stopped.

Through the fabric, his fingertips touched something hard.

He frowned, turned the bear over, and opened the hidden zipper on its back.

A bright gold necklace slipped out of the cotton stuffing and fell into his scarred palm.

The pendant hanging from the chain was a small round charm engraved with the word “Joy.”

Under the dim yellow light of the tent, it caught a faint glimmer.