I Regret Ever Loving You

"Hello? Mom!"

A familiar child's voice came through the line. It was Avery, my son.

My eyes reddened instantly, my heart melting all at once.

"Avery, when are you coming back? Mommy misses you."

The other end of the call was noisy, like an amusement park. Even so, I caught Avery's voice immediately.

"But I don't want to see Mommy."

The tears in my eyes froze. I asked in disbelief, "Avery… what did you say?"

His voice was as clear as ever, striking my heart with brutal force.

"I said, I don't want to see Mommy."

My grip on the phone tightened unconsciously. I took a deep breath and coaxed him gently, "Mommy knows you're having fun right now. You go enjoy yourself first, okay? Come see Mommy after you're done playing. No matter how long it takes, Mommy can wait."

Avery didn't hesitate. He had that same coldness he'd inherited from Hugo.

"No. Daddy said you made him angry. You're a bad mom! I don't want to see you anymore. Don't look for me again. I don't want you to be my mommy anymore!"

The call ended. I listened to the beeping tone in the receiver, my heart completely dead.

So it turned out my child, just like his father, didn't love me either.

That was fine. Now I could finally leave without any attachments.

…

Back at the hotel, I booked a flight for tomorrow to return to my hometown.

Before going to bed, I scrolled through Hugo's Instagram.

It was a photo taken at an amusement park—a picture of three people. The woman in the photo was the same young girl from the wedding.

My son, Avery, was leaning affectionately against Hugo, sharing a three-flavored ice cream with the girl.

The caption read: [My son likes it.]

Looking at the post with not a single like, I understood.

Hugo had posted it specifically for me to see—visible to me alone.

In the past, every time we argued, he would post something like this involving our son. It was a warning, forcing me to lower my head for the sake of my son.

And every time, I did exactly as he wished—placing my dignity at his feet, letting him trample it.

Thinking back now, the moment I risked my life to give birth, he had already seized me by the throat.

Thankfully, I was completely done.

I tapped a like, set my phone down, and went to sleep.

In the middle of the night, Hugo's call woke me.

"Mia, what kind of mother are you? Do you know Avery waited for you for a long time? He's crying right now!"

I rubbed my reddened eyes and replied casually, "Oh. Then help me tell him I'm sorry."

The voice on the other end went silent for two seconds. Hugo let out a cold laugh.

"Mia, do you believe I can make it so you never see Avery again?"

The threat in his tone was unmistakable.

But I was no longer the Mia who would bow again and again for the sake of my son.

"That's fine."

I stared at the ceiling, my voice distant.

The voice on the other end faltered. Hugo asked in disbelief, "Mia, what did you just say?"

I sat up, my hair brushing against the hotel sheets.

"That's fine. You're Avery's dad. Do whatever you want."

Through the phone, I heard the sound of porcelain shattering.

"Mia, I'll give you one last chance. Take back what you just said. Otherwise, I'll take Avery abroad tomorrow, and you'll never see him again."

I exited the call and opened my photo gallery.

Two hundred and thirteen videos. More than a thousand photos. Each one I had watched countless times.

Taking a deep breath, I cleared the entire gallery. Suddenly, I didn't want to wait anymore.

"Hugo, we were never married, were we?"

The voice on the other end froze abruptly.

Lowering my gaze, I continued, "Since we were never married, there's no need to go through divorce procedures. Let's break up."

I ended the call.

The very next second, someone knocked violently on my hotel door.