He Cheated For Three Years And Asked Me To Save Her Baby Chapter 09

He Cheated For Three Years And Asked Me To Save Her Baby Chapter 09

I shook my head.

“No.”

I picked up a piece of short rib and put it into my mouth.

“I just wanted to come see you.”

Mom and Dad exchanged a look.

They didn’t ask anything else.

After dinner, I washed the dishes.

Mom stood beside me, drying plates.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?”

My eyes slowly blurred.

Mom stood beside me, her movements getting slower and slower.

“Is everything really okay?”

She asked again.

I kept my head down.

The faucet ran loudly.

She

put down the plate and reached over to turn off the water.

The kitchen went quiet.

I didn’t know when Dad had appeared in the doorway. He held the remote in his hand.

The TV was silent now.

“Sweetheart.”

That was all he said.

Just one word.

i bit my lip. Tears fell into the sink.

One drop after another.

They mixed with the soap until I couldn’t see them anymore.

Mom panicked.

“What happened? What is it?”

She turned me by the shoulders, anxious and terrified.

“Did Calloway hurt you?”

I said nothing.

“Did you two fight? Tell me. I’ll call him right now.”

The tears fell harder.

Dad set the remote on the table and walked over.

He didn’t speak.

He only stood behind Mom and looked at me.

He was tall. Half his hair had gone white, and his back was a little bent now.

When I was little, he used to lift me over his head and say our Mare was the strongest girl in the

world.

He said if anyone ever bullied me, he would handle it.

I couldn’t look into their eyes.

“Mom.”

“He cheated on me.”

Mom’s hands froze on my shoulders.

“What did you say?”

“He was with someone else.”

Dad’s face darkened.

He was not a man who lost his temper.

Growing up, I had only seen him rage once.

In elementary school, a boy from another class pushed me down the stairs.

That day, Dad stormed into the school and kicked open the office door, the veins in his neck

standing out.

Now he didn’t yell.

He only stood there, his hands slowly curling into fists. –

“Who?”

Mom cried harder than I did.

She pulled me into her arms.

“Mare, don’t cry.”

Dad said nothing.

He turned and walked out of the kitchen.

I saw him open the drawer under the TV cabinet and take out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

He had quit smoking years ago.

But right then, he lit one.

Mom comforted me for a long time.

Later, we sat in the living room.

Dad came back after finishing the cigarette and sat on the couch across from me.

He didn’t look at me. He stared at the cup on the coffee table.

“Is it final?”

“Yeah.”

“The house?”

“Mine.”

He nodded.

Then he stood and walked to me.

He reached out and patted my head.

“Then it’s final.”

“Come home.”

I lifted my head.

His eyes were red. Even the tip of his nose was red.

But he was smiling.

“My daughter isn’t going to starve with me around.”

Mom patted my back.

“That’s right. Come home. I’ll buy short ribs tomorrow and make stew every day if I have to.”

“We don’t need that bastard.”

“My daughter is beautiful. You think one divorce is going to ruin her?”

“Good riddance. We didn’t raise you so some man could break you.”

I buried my face against my knees.

I cried so hard I couldn’t speak.

Dad patted my head again.

“Don’t cry.”

He paused. His voice shook.

“You’re breaking my heart, sweetheart.”

After that, they didn’t ask anything.

Not who the woman was.

Not how long it had been.

Not whether he had ever hit me.

That night, Mom insisted on sleeping beside me.

She held me like I was little again and patted my back, one slow stroke after another.

“Mare.”

“How long have you been carrying this alone?”

I didn’t answer.

She buried her face in my hair.

“My heart hurts for you so much.”

I closed my eyes.

Tears slipped from the corners and ran into my ears.

That night, I slept deeply.

For the next half month, I didn’t leave the house.

I slept until I woke naturally and ate the breakfast Mom made.

Dad trimmed the roses in the yard, saying they had grown too wild and needed cleaning up.

Every morning, he picked the best bloom and placed it in the glass bottle on the dining table.

I knew it was for me.

Then my birthday came.

Mom cooked a whole table of food.

Dad opened a bottle of red wine and poured me a glass.

“You’re only thirty-five,” he said, “Still young.”

“With the right skincare, a woman can have boys chasing her at fifty.”

Mom told him to stop being ridiculous.

I was about to lift my glass when the doorbell rang.

Mom went to answer it.

Then she stood there without moving.

“Who is it?” Dad asked.

Mom looked back at me.

I set down my glass and stood.

Calloway was outside.