My Son Told Me I Was Too Ugly And Stupid Compared To Her Chapter 01

My Son Told Me I Was Too Ugly And Stupid Compared To Her Chapter 01

After helping my husband Charles Whitmore’s childhood friend find a boyfriend, he suddenly said to me, “You’re pretty pathetic, you know that?”

I froze, unable to believe my ears.

As if I still hadn’t understood, our son in the backseat repeated it bluntly. “Mom, Dad and Jessica have been together for two years. He gave you so many hints. Why didn’t you ever catch on?”

Pale and shaken, I looked at the two of them, my hands still holding a bag of popcorn I’d been popping for them. “Why…?”

Charles’s expression was perfectly calm. When our eyes met in the rearview mirror, there was only mild boredom in his gaze.

“I didn’t want to put it so bluntly, but you set Jessica up with some guy. You don’t know how upset she was today. Divorce or separation, pick one.”

—

I sat stunned, my eyes red, my mind a complete mess.

My son Jacob said impatiently, “Mom, say something. Dad gave you a choice. You’re not as young or pretty as Jessica, and you’re not as smart as she is?”

My eyes filled instantly. The pain was so sharp it felt like my throat was being torn apart.

But Jacob only got angrier. “There you go again, crying. You’re so weak. That’s what I hate most about you.”

“You’re just embarrassing to be around. And guess what? The parent-teacher conference last week wasn’t cancelled. I had Jessica go instead.”

My mind went blank. I looked at him in disbelief.

Jacob had been in elementary school for years, and I’d never once been allowed to attend a conference.

I’d been so excited I couldn’t sleep the night before, but that morning I’d had a severe allergic reaction. Afraid of being late, I’d rushed to take some meds and get out the door.

Jacob hadn’t expected me to be that sick and still insist on going, so he’d casually told me the conference was cancelled. Looking back, it couldn’t have been a coincidence.

Seeing how pale I’d gone, Charles decided to come clean. “You guessed right. I gave you the medicine. Don’t blame Jacob. It wasn’t going to kill you.”

Wouldn’t kill me? I let out a hollow, trembling laugh.

What I didn’t know then was that the meds only provided temporary relief. That night, I’d burned with fever, vomiting violently, unable to even get out of bed.

If I hadn’t called 911 just before losing consciousness, I would have been nothing but ashes by now. But those two were watching fireworks with Jessica.

The next day, when they saw me, they’d just laughed. “Mom’s body is so weak. She’s only in her thirties, but she’s like an old grandma.”

My heart felt as if it were being torn open.

Once we got home, Charles sent Jacob to his room. I thought he was going to apologize.

Instead, he turned to look at my tear-streaked face, his expression complicated. “Actually, we don’t have to divorce. But when Jessica has the baby, you’ll need to do your best to raise it.”

The words struck me like lightning, splitting me apart. “What?”

“Jessica is pregnant. Two months along.”

I calculated it instantly. That was the time my mother had died.

Charles glanced at my pale face, his voice light. “You were crying so hard then. When you called me, I knew you were falling apart and needed comfort, but Jessica was clinging to me. And I didn’t want to push her away.”

I let out a shriek and slapped him hard. “You bastard!”

Charles took the slap, then slowly turned his head back. His dark eyes were cold. “I admit it. I’m a bastard. But you’re not innocent either, are you? Weren’t you the one having an affair?”

A flash of lightning lit up the window, illuminating my enraged, horrified face.

Five years. I thought I’d moved past it. But when my husband mentioned it so casually, my heart tore open just as easily.

Back when Charles was starting his company, he’d been short on funds and connections, and work was rough.

One night, he came home dead drunk and begged me to deliver documents to a client.

I saw the hotel address and backed off. But Charles lost his temper, grabbing my shoulders in desperation.

“Do you know how I’ve struggled this past year? Why are you so selfish? You can’t even do this one small thing?”

“How are we supposed to give Jacob a good life in the future?”

I’d had no choice. So I went.