Leaving Heartbreaks Behind

I smiled softly and pushed the cake toward her.

She looked like she hadn’t eaten in days, and within minutes, she devoured the entire slice.

A bit of cream lingered at the corner of her mouth.

I had rushed out without even grabbing a tissue, and I was about to turn to her parents but then I suddenly realized that she was by herself.

Confused, I asked her, “Are you alone? Where’s your mom?”

She pouted, her eyes reddening as she lowered her head.

“My mom got off the train yesterday with my little brother. She told me to stay seated until we reached the last stop, then someone would come get me.”

That’s when it hit me.

I asked the attendant for help, and after some investigation, I learned that the woman who had brought her on board had quietly gotten off hours earlier.

In other words, the little girl had been abandoned on the train.

As we neared the station, she clung to my leg. Tears were streaming down her face as she begged, “Miss, please! I heard children in foster care get beaten a lot. You look like my mom. Could you adopt me?”

I shook my head apologetically. I felt cruel for refusing her.

I didn’t have much to call my own, and the future was uncertain. I simply couldn’t afford to take on another child.

As I stepped off the train, I gave her one last, lingering look.

Her face was streaked with tears, but she forced a smile and waved at me.

My mother was waiting at the station.

The last time I saw her was three years ago when I brought Christopher home for my father’s funeral.

After all these years, I hadn’t realized how much she had aged. Her eyes no longer sparkled, and patches of gray had overtaken her hair.

She stood anxiously at the exit, scanning the crowd, and when she saw it was just me, the smile she had forced melted away.

Her lips trembled but the words never came.

Instead, with shaking hands, she pulled me into her arms and began stroking my head, just like when I was little.

In her embrace, I suddenly couldn’t hold it in any longer and broke down in sobs.

After years of sacrifice and giving up so much to bear a child who nearly cost me my life, the pain was unbearable. It was tearing me apart.

My mother didn’t say a word.

She gently patted my back and patiently waited for me to cry it out.

Only when I had finally quieted down did she take my hand, hail a taxi, and lead me home.

As we passed a phone shop, I asked the driver to wait and quickly bought a new SIM card.

When I turned the phone on, several WhatsApp messages popped up.

It was a message from Nathan. My finger hovered over the delete button for a long moment, and in the end, I couldn’t bring myself to press it.

I figured it wouldn’t hurt to keep them. After all, I still needed to handle the divorce proceedings with Christopher.

I opened the voice messages he’d sent.

Each one was arrogant and rude as if he were barking orders at a housekeeper.

[Mom, where are my socks?

[Where’s my jacket?

[You’re such an idiot. Dad said if you don’t come back, he’s divorcing you!]

I calmly paused the conversation and rested my head on my mother’s shoulder.

I closed my eyes to collect my thoughts.

Then my phone blared sharply. I glanced down to see Nathan’s name flashing on the screen.

I didn’t feel any desire to answer it as it continued buzzing in my hand.

But Nathan was determined. After several attempts, my mother looked at me, hesitation mirrored in her eyes.

“Is it Nathan? That child has always been so stubborn. Still… I think you should pick it up.”

I sighed and answered the call.

Perhaps it was the long wait, but Nathan sounded cold and impatient.

“When are you coming back? Didn't you know I couldn’t find my backpack this morning and almost missed school?”

“And what about the craft project you promised to help me with? If you don’t come back to finish it, I’ll have Dad—”

“Nathan.”

I interrupted him softly, his incessant complaints grating on my nerves.

“Listen carefully: your father and I are getting a divorce, and I won’t be coming back.

“Besides, you’re already eight. Can you stop acting like a little kid who depends on everyone for everything?

“From now on, you’ll have to stand on your own.”