My Six-Year-Old Told Me About His Sister Before My Husband Did Chapter 02

My Six-Year-Old Told Me About His Sister Before My Husband Did Chapter 02

Thayer froze for half a second.

Then he set his fork down slowly.

“Who told you?”

Tavish glanced at his face before answering.

“I did.”

Thayer’s hand struck the table hard enough to make Tavish flinch.

“You upset your mother. No dinner. Go to your room.”

Thayer’s expression stayed calm as he kept placing food into my bowl.

“Izzy, I won’t go to Port Aster tomorrow. How about that? You said there was a movie you wanted to see. I’ll take you.”

Tears streamed down my face.

I swept the bowl off the table.

“Do you even hear how disgusting you sound? Twyla is only four months younger than Tavish.”

Thayer frowned.

“Her last name is Wescott.”

The words went through me like a blade.

“You’re always so intense, Izzy. Coralie doesn’t turn everything into a fight.”

I could barely breathe.

“When did it start? When I was pregnant? Or before that?”

Thayer leaned back in his chair, his expression turning almost fond.

“Our first anniversary. I had a business trip in Port Aster. You kept begging me to come home, but on the way to the airport, I saw Coralie being harassed.”

My whole body went rigid.

I stared at him.

That was the day my mother got into the car accident.

Outside the hospital room, the driver who hit her had brought people to threaten us. Inside, my mother had already lost the ability to breathe on her own.

I cried and begged Thayer to come back.

Past midnight, he told me there was a storm in Port Aster and his flight had been delayed.

I told him it was okay.

I had packed an umbrella in his bag.

Thayer sighed and reached out to wipe my tears.

I turned away.

“Izzy, it hurts me to see you cry.”

“I want to bring Coralie and Twyla to Merroway. Twyla is getting older. She needs her father.”

He looked at me like he was making some noble promise.

“But I swear, you will always be my wife. Mrs. Wescott. They can’t threaten your place.”

I looked at his sincere face.

Then I bent over and threw up.

The next day, two of the sunniest bedrooms in the Wescott house were cleared out.

A cedar-and-amber diffuser was placed in each room.

Thayer and Tavish left early for the airport.

Behind them, I went to the clinic alone.

On the way there, I opened Coralie’s livestream.

On-screen, Twyla was riding on Thayer’s shoulders.

Tavish had both arms wrapped around Coralie, clinging to her like she was the one who had raised him.

“Who says I don’t look like my mom?” Tavish said proudly. “Coralie is my real mom now.”

Coralie smiled like she had won everything.

“That’s right. We’re moving to Merroway soon. The four of us won’t have to keep living apart anymore.”

Tens of thousands of live comments poured in, congratulating them.

I was the only one who typed: [Disgusting.]

Within minutes, people swarmed my comment.

They mass-reported me, and my account was suspended.

Before the abortion procedure, the doctor looked uneasy.

“Do you have someone here to take you home afterward? Given your history, there is a real risk of heavy bleeding.”

Fear finally hit me.

I called Thayer, crying.

He missed the first two calls.

On the third, he picked up.

“Izzy, from now on, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are for you. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays are for Coralie. Today is Thursday.”

His voice was patient, almost bored.

“You need to learn how to be independent. Try to handle things yourself today.”

Through the phone, I heard Tavish sweetly calling for his sister.

I said nothing.

I hung up, wiped my tears, and looked at the doctor.

“I’m here alone. I’ll sign whatever I need to sign.”