I Sent My Mother To Win Back Her Husband

My very first birthday took place in the mountains. Quiana had planned it for me.

My mom never once celebrated my birthday before. She treated me like a tool to win Dad over, yet she hated the fact that he had married her because of me.

It was the first real birthday I had ever had.

As fireworks filled the night sky, I saw my dad and Quiana lock eyes.

True love really did not need schemes. Just by being there, my dad was already drawn closer to Quiana.

But as he tried to move nearer, Quiana stepped back.

“Mindy is still your wife.”

I knew that as long as my dad did not divorce my mom, she would always be their biggest obstacle. That was true before, and it was true again.

I purposely stepped into a mud puddle and asked Quiana to give me a bath.

My mom never let the nanny bathe me. She always did it herself.

No one knew about all the bruises and needle marks covering my body.

When Quiana saw me, her gasps brought my dad running from outside.

Quiana wrapped a towel around me and left only the marks on my arms visible.

“There are more marks on other parts of her body.”

My dad grabbed my arm and coldly asked, “Who did this?”

I pointed to the faint scars on my arms.

“One time, you didn’t come home for dinner. Mom was very angry.”

I pointed to the cluster of needle marks.

“These are from the days you didn’t eat the breakfast Mom made for you.”

I rubbed my stomach through the towel.

“And the marks on my belly… those are because you forgot Mom’s birthday.”

…

My dad stiffened up at every word I said.

A cold edge flashed in his eyes. He gritted his teeth and said, “A fake death, huh? Then, I’ll do as she wants.”

My dad immediately told his assistant to arrange for my mom’s death certificate. He also canceled all her extra cards.

I hugged Quiana’s neck tightly. “I want Ms. Sullivan to sleep with me.”

As my dad turned to leave, I grabbed his hand.

“I also want you to tell me a story, Dad.”

Dad told the story. He could barely keep his eyes open. Outside, the night was filled with the sound of insects.

Quiana gently stroked my hair. I saw myself reflected in her eyes.

“Ms. Sullivan, will you be my mom?”

A faint blush appeared on her face.

I stole a glance at Dad, who was pretending to sleep. A faint smile appeared on his face.

When we got home, my mom’s things had already been thrown out.

Quiana stayed for a while, but then got up to leave.

I grabbed her hand and whispered, “Ms. Sullivan, I’ll help you be my mom.”

She froze for a moment. I pouted at Dad, acting like a spoiled princess.

“Dad, if Ms. Sullivan isn’t with me, I’ll have nightmares at night. I always dream that Mom pinches me and hits me.”