He Took His Son, I Took My Daughter

My heart sank, but in the next second, my daughter suddenly gasped, her face flushed, and she collapsed to the ground.

I looked at the cake, furious.

"Don’t you know she’s allergic to nuts?"

"I had no idea! Who told her to eat so quickly like a starving ghost?"

I didn’t have time to argue, quickly grabbing my daughter and rushing to the hospital.

It was late into the night before my daughter was out of danger.

She lay pale, forcing a smile as she patted John’s hand.

"Dad, I’m fine. Don’t worry."

John, perhaps out of guilt, finally agreed to accompany her to the museum the next day to film the video.

His phone rang, and faintly, I could hear a woman’s soft voice.

"John, Ben had a nightmare and can’t sleep. He’s crying and asking for you..."

John’s face changed instantly, and without thinking, he began to leave.

My daughter worriedly grabbed his sleeve, "Dad, you promised to film with me tomorrow."

John patted her head.

"I remember, sweetheart. I have an urgent matter tonight, but I’ll definitely come to the museum tomorrow."

With John’s promise, my daughter stayed up excited, planning the video shoot in her notebook.

"Mom, how about I wear a white dress tomorrow?"

"Mom, Dad’s busy. I’ll arrange fewer lines for him..."

Finally, exhausted, she fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, my daughter and I woke up early.

She was in high spirits, skipping along, proudly telling anyone we met, "Today, I’m going to the museum with Mom and Dad to film a video."

But when we stood at the museum entrance for three hours, waiting, the hope turned to unease and, eventually, to disappointment.

I called John countless times, but he didn’t answer.

My daughter’s health was still fragile, her face pale.

"Mom, can we go find Dad? He promised he’d come."

I couldn’t bear to refuse her, so I took her by taxi to John’s company.

"Mr. Foster isn’t here today, but he asked me to get three tickets for the amusement park today..."

I couldn’t express what I felt inside as I lowered my eyes, seeing my daughter tightly pursing her lips, eyes full of grievance and disappointment.

We reluctantly went to the amusement park, where we happened to see John riding the carousel with the little boy.

The woman beside them smiled widely, taking photos of them like a happy family.

After the ride, John picked up a cake from the ground and walked over to the woman.

"Ben loves nut cakes, and I tasted it myself; it’s delicious."

The cake he held was exactly the same as the one he had given my daughter the night she almost died from eating it.

That cake, which had made my daughter so happy and nearly cost her life, was now for the mother and son in front of me.

Grief and anger overwhelmed me, and I couldn’t hold back anymore.

My daughter’s cry rang out as she walked toward John.

The boy ran around, getting chocolate ice cream all over her.

"Watch where you’re going, do you know who I am? I’ll make you regret it!"

The boy yanked at my daughter’s braid, punching her with his fists.

I rushed up and pushed the boy away, my daughter’s carefully styled braid in disarray, her beloved dress dirty, and large cuts on her arms.

The boy, however, screamed loudly,

"Mom and Dad, come quickly! Someone’s bullying me!"

When John saw us, his face darkened.

"Are you following me?"

"Do you know them?"

I smiled bitterly in anger. "John, you promised our daughter you’d film the video today!"