For Her First Love, My Wife Doesn't Care About My Mother's Life or Death

Wendy showed a hint of hesitation.

Neil, sensing the shift, quickly interrupted.

"Gerald, can you stop acting? You just don't want Wendy helping me with the Golden Egg, right?"

He put on an act of grievance.

"Wendy, don't worry about me. Go with him.

"It's my fault for causing all this trouble."

He walked away dejectedly.

It was all a ploy.

Sure enough, Wendy, blind and foolish, immediately reached out to stop him.

She shoved me aside.

"You can't stand seeing Neil doing well, can you? You just can't bear to see me helping him."

With that, she and Neil walked away quickly. No matter how much I pleaded, she didn't look back.

I collapsed on the ground in despair, feeling so weak that I couldn't even get up.

Just then, Dr. Zangwill called.

"Gerald, you and Dr. Simpson need to get back immediately... Eleanore's condition is worsening. She's fading fast..."

A shiver ran through me as I struggled to my feet and drove back to the hospital alone.

Eleanore's face was pale, yet she strained to look behind me.

She was looking for Wendy.

But Wendy wasn't there.

She was off smashing Golden Eggs with her ex.

I hated Wendy's heartlessness and my own helplessness.

Standing by Eleanore's bed, tears filled my eyes as I kept apologizing.

"Eleanore, I'm sorry. It's all my fault."

She seemed to understand what had happened, giving a bitter smile as tears welled up in her eyes.

"It's not your fault. You're a good boy. Dr. Zangwill, bear witness, I want Gerald to handle all my affairs. Gerald, don't put up a tombstone, plant papaver rhoeas instead..."

My father-in-law loved papaver rhoeas.

When he chose a sea burial, Eleanore had joked about planting papaver rhoeas around her grave.

I nodded through my tears. "I'll do as you wish. Don't worry."

Her breath grew weaker until it ceased altogether.

Finally, I let my tears fall.

As I looked at her now still body, I composed myself and began to handle her funeral arrangements.

I called Wendy again, but she hung up immediately.

If even the closest family member didn't matter as much as her infatuation, then seeing her one last time didn't seem to matter either.

I bought a funeral outfit for Eleanore, contacted the funeral home, and arranged for her body to be taken away.

When I left the crematorium, I carried a small box.

I couldn't understand how such a kind and considerate woman had raised someone so foolish and heartless.

I took the urn home.

Wendy wasn't there.

She was still with Neil.

I sat on the couch with the urn all night, waiting for Wendy to come back.

She never did.

The next morning, I dressed in a black suit, ready to select a burial plot for Eleanore.

But at the door, I ran into Wendy, who had been out all night.

Seeing me, she looked momentarily guilty.

Then she quickly explained. "Yesterday, I won Neil a great discount on his renovation. He was so excited that we drank too much..."

Her voice trailed off as her eyes locked onto the urn in my hands, pupils dilating in shock.

"What's that?"