My Sons Died So His Lover’s Son Could Live

I came to the Carson family when I was eight. The Carson and Parker families were long-time friends. After my parents died in a car crash, Mrs. Carson brought me in and raised me like her own daughter.

I first met Daryl in our garden. Back then, he was mischievous, had broken his leg, and sat in a wheelchair. He was withdrawn and rarely spoke.

I helped him with rehab, kept him company, and shared his joy the first time he stood up again.

We hugged tightly, our hearts so close they seemed to beat as one.

Daryl said I was his white moonlight—the only woman he’d ever marry.

We got engaged, married, and had twin sons all at once, becoming the young couple everyone in Anaheim City admired.

But I never expected that during our children's first birthday party, the poor student I once sponsored would show up pregnant and cause a scene.

Daryl didn’t explain—he just kept slapping himself, claiming he mistook Jennie for me after drinking.

I was disgusted and wanted to divorce him, but then I saw the twins stumbling toward me, calling “Mom,” and Mrs. Carson pleading for me to stay.

I gave in.

Now, my tears won’t stop. I was wrong. I never should’ve compromised. Maybe then, my children wouldn’t have become cold corpses.

Mrs. Carson wiped the blood from my lips, her eyes brimming with guilt.

“Darla, I failed you. I should’ve let you go when Daryl first messed up.”

“It’s not your fault the child died. If you want to leave, then go. You don’t owe us anything this time.”

I finally broke down, sobbing in her arms.

Back at home, Daryl sat on the sofa, eyes sharp as blades.

“Darla, you’re getting craftier. You took advantage of my slight guilt after our son’s transfusion and played the victim at the hospital. Then you turned public opinion and ran crying to my mother. Shameless.”

“To force me back, you even cursed the child to die. Now I’m here—where is he? Where did you hide him? If this delays the spinal cord surgery, the day after tomorrow…”

My heart turned ice cold. I cut him off harshly.

“The child is dead. Don’t even think about taking his spinal cord.”

Daryl froze for a moment, then let out a cold laugh.

“You’re insane. Using our child like this? Look at yourself—you’re not even fit to be a mother.”

“After the surgery, Jennie will adopt the child. She’ll be a thousand times better and raise him right.”

My eyes burned red. I didn’t respond to his insults. I simply took out a crooked airplane model and a wrinkled clay doll from the nursery.

The boys made them for Daryl’s birthday. Just last night, they were huddled together, fighting over who would give their gift first.

Now, life and death have split them apart. There’s no “first” anymore.

I wanted to keep the gifts myself—but they were the children’s final wishes. I couldn’t be selfish.

Midnight struck.

I choked back my pain and held back the nausea.

“This is the birthday gift the children made for you.”

Daryl glanced at it and tossed it into the trash.

“I’ve told you, they’re boys. One day, they’ll inherit the Carson family. Making stuff like this is a waste—childish and aimless.”

“As their mother, you failed to guide them and even dared to flaunt this to me? Is that your idea of parenting? They’re not even half as clever as Keri.”

I listened numbly. A cold, bitter smile curled at the corner of my lips.