He Took His Son, I Took My Daughter

"If I hadn't come, I wouldn't have known that my husband had another family outside..."

The woman’s face turned pale, nearly collapsing. "I didn’t know..."

John Foster stepped in front of the mother and son. "Lena, be quiet!"

Seeing that the bystanders were scattering, Amy Green decided to close her eyes and feign unconsciousness.

John picked Amy up and walked out.

"If anything happens to Amy, I won’t let you get away with it!"

In just two days, my daughter was injured twice, and I blamed myself.

When we reached the hospital, we were told that the entire hospital had been booked by John’s company’s president.

"Mom, did Dad book the whole hospital? Why can't we get treated?"

No matter how much I pleaded, the security guards refused to let us in.

Helpless, I took my daughter home to tend to her injuries. Seeing her devastated, I hesitated but asked,

"Emma, do you want Mommy to take you away from Dad?"

Emma’s eyes were filled with fear as she clung to my neck, sobbing,

"Mom, I don’t want to be without Dad..."

Seeing her so emotional, I couldn’t bear to push her any further.

When she fell asleep, John returned, looking exhausted.

"Amy is fine. She said she won’t hold it against you for your rash behavior today. Don’t do it again."

I picked up a cushion and threw it at him.

"John, you jerk!"

"You ignore our daughter’s injury and blame me for a woman pretending to faint. Are you even human?"

He looked guilty for a moment but quickly grew agitated, scratching his head.

"It’s just a video. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?"

I turned and went to the bedroom to avoid waking Emma.

The next morning, we heard clanging sounds from the kitchen, and when Emma and I came out, we saw John busy cooking, wearing an apron.

"You’re up? I made breakfast..."

The plates on the table were piled with burnt scrambled eggs.

"Emma, didn’t you say you wanted to film a video? After breakfast, Daddy will take you to the museum."

Emma, who had looked dejected, instantly perked up, taking my hand to sit at the table.

"Mom, did you hear? Daddy’s going to take us to film a video!"

She took a bite of the burnt eggs and kept nodding in praise.

"This is the first time Daddy’s made breakfast for me, and it’s delicious..."

I turned away, my heart aching. The neglected child always tries to please the one they care about.

John accompanied us to the museum. Though Emma’s script had very few lines, he remained distracted, repeatedly interrupting.

"What’s wrong with you guys? Ben finished in one take. Why are you so dumb?"

John muttered under his breath. Despite being upset, Emma smiled and tried to please him.

"One more time, Daddy. Can we try it just one more time?"

She reduced John’s lines to just one sentence, and finally, the filming was done.

Emma felt like she had completed an important task and danced around joyfully.

"Mom, I finally finished my assignment!"

John answered his phone, leaned in, and asked me where the household registry and property deed were.

I was lost in Emma’s happiness and without thinking, told him.

From that day on, John hadn’t returned home, claiming work trips.

Because of John cooperating with the video shoot, Emma had been extremely happy these days, watching the video several times every night before bed.

Soon, it was time for Emma to go back to school. I sent her to the school gate as usual.

Before I could get home, I received a call from Emma’s teacher, and I could hear Emma crying in the background.