At 59, I Birth My Revenge

Stubborn and old-fashioned?

I spent a fortune securing Lucy's future, ensuring she wouldn't have to suffer later in life, only for her to call me that.

The disillusionment turned my heart cold, and my anger soon morphed into numbness.

"I never thought you saw me that way. If that's how it is, you can just rely on your in-laws from now on."

It was the first time I'd ever spoken so harshly to her.

Lucy wiped her tears away and retorted, "Fine! If anything, I can just sell off all the jewelry and handbags you gave me. That'll be enough for me to live on for a while! And you can forget about us going back to see you for the holidays. Just act like you never had a daughter like me!"

After a pause, she added, "If you continue to push me, I'll just jump off this house! You'll be satisfied once I'm dead, won't you? It's not like you care about losing an ungrateful daughter like me anyway!"

All of a sudden, I recalled the articles I'd read about women who suffered from postpartum depression.

Regardless of the situation, I'd carried Lucy in my belly for months before giving birth to her. No matter how stupid she was and how deeply she hurt me, I couldn't bear the possibility of losing her.

"So be it. I won't push you."

I marched right back out of the house.

She'd been so flippant about selling off the jewelry and handbags I'd given her in the past—the gift I'd given out of my love for her.

…

That night, I stayed awake until the sun rose. All I could think about was how to protect Lucy from being used for her money and how to keep the family's assets safe.

The next morning, I got a message from Lucy that snuffed out the last vestige of my attachment.

"Paul and I are taking the children abroad to take our minds off things. We won't be coming back for a few years. Since you and Dad clearly can't accept Paul and keep making his life difficult, there's no point in us returning just to suffer.

"If you keep this up, don't blame me for cutting off all ties with you. I don't care if I have to cut you out of all my life completely!"

Lucy, the daughter that Felix and I loved and doted on for over two decades now, was unflinchingly declaring her willingness to cut off all ties with us, all for the sake of a man who went back on his word.

She'd even gone abroad with him.

Before Felix and I could even wrap our heads around the heavy blow we just received, we got a call from Paul.

This time, his tone was far more taunting.

"Hey, Mom—Oh, wait. You're just Mrs. Shepherd to me now. Anyway, I'm just calling you to remind you of something—since Lucy is married to me, we are one unit. What's hers is mine, including everything that'll go to our children.

"When it comes to family assets, what matters most is seeing who has the power to hold onto them, right?"

The family assets, huh? Was he trying to hint to me that the Shepherd family's assets would eventually belong to the Cranstons, since Lucy's children would take his last name?

After the call ended, Felix and I just stared at each other for ages. We had to do something to inject some new hope into this situation.

We secretly started going for IVF treatments. The process was far more grueling than expected and an enormous strain for a woman in her late 50s.

The ovarian stimulation drugs came with harsh side effects, and the egg retrieval hurt as well. There was also the constant anxiety of waiting for the results, but Felix and I gritted our teeth and bore through it all.

Alas, nothing in this world stayed hidden forever. Somehow, Lucy and Paul caught wind of what we were doing.

Lucy sent me a long message to talk me out of it.

"Mom, I heard you and Dad are still trying to have a child. Have you two lost your minds? You're both so old now! I know you're upset because of the issue with the last names, but this is such an extreme reaction!

"You're almost 60 years old now. You've already gone through menopause! You're just embarrassing yourself."

Paul also called me.

"IVF is no simple procedure, Mrs. Shepherd. It's very damaging to your body. Don't worry. Lucy and I will take good care of you two. We won't let you starve in your old age."

How thoughtful that sounded, yet every word was a subtle hint reminding us that we should just obligingly hand over the family's assets and wait to be taken in like charity cases.

I blocked both of them immediately. In fact, Felix and I also moved out of our original villa at once.

At the same time, with the help of my lawyer, David Holt, I started legal proceedings. I wanted to reclaim the ten million dollars and the riverfront apartment from the Cranstons, citing their breach of the prenuptial agreement.

I also took back everything I'd previously given Lucy, such as her sports cars and jewelry collection. Since she'd already said she was going to sell them off, I might as well get them back first.

Lucy knew that my period had stopped for quite some time, so the couple was certain I'd already gone through menopause and couldn't get pregnant anymore. They firmly believed that Felix and I were just bluffing, and that our "scheme" was doomed to fail.

In fact, Paul was eager for me to damage my body with the treatments.

Unbeknownst to them, the IVF treatment worked.

Nine months later, at the age of 59, I gave birth to a healthy baby boy named Logan Shepherd.

Just as I raised my trembling fingers to stroke his cheek, the door to the hospital room flew open with a loud bang.

The family of four who had disappeared for nearly a year scrambled in, flustered and panicked.