Regret Consumed Her Husband and Son After She Left

She had been Raiden’s childhood friend. Once upon a time, they had made plans to go abroad together, but fate had other intentions. When Raiden’s mother fell gravely ill, he stayed behind while Norella, with tears streaming down her face, boarded the plane alone.

Six years later, she returned to the country and moved into the house next door.

From the moment Norella came back, Raiden seemed drawn to her orbit. He applied for school projects that partnered him with her and their meetings became a frequent occurrence. Even their son, full of excitement, often dashed out to play with her.

“This is a frisbee! Aunt Norella gave it to me. It’s so much cooler than the dragonfly toy Mom gave me!”

Raiden said nothing to the child’s remark, his lips curving into a faint smile as he ruffled his son’s hair. But his gaze shifted to the table, scanning the untouched dishes and his expression hardened.

“You didn’t cook?”

On the table sat a modest spread, tomato scrambled eggs, braised ribs and crystal shrimp. She had carried them back from the school cafeteria, untouched, waiting for her family to return.

“I went out today…”

Before she could finish, Reaghan tugged at his father’s hand, throwing a meaningful glance toward the door.

Raiden picked up on the cue effortlessly. “Reaghan doesn’t like these dishes,” he remarked, his tone casual.

“Exactly! Dad knows me best! Let’s go grab KFC!”

Watching the effortless coordination between father and son, Astrella chose not to expose them. Her sharp gaze had already caught the faint silhouette of Norella lingering just outside the door. Lowering her eyes, she let a bitter smile tug at her lips.

Their hearts had drifted far from home.

As she stood there, the sound of their laughter echoed in the hallway as the three walked away together. She turned to face the table brimming with untouched food, her chest heavy with a quiet sigh.

This was meant to be a family reunion dinner.

But life rarely unfolds as one hopes. Perhaps their fragile ties as a family had finally unraveled.

After finishing her meal in silence, she pulled out the envelope.

The envelope was sealed with a wax stamp, a symbol of finality. Inside, there were a few papers: a will, a life-and-death agreement and a titanium tag etched with a string of numbers.

With steady hands, she signed her name before dialing the number scrawled on the paper.

After hanging up, she took a slow, deliberate look around the house. A pang of reluctance gripped her chest.

This house had been her home for six years.

What had begun as a marriage of gratitude had, over time, blossomed into something deeper, something real. The bond she had built here made the thought of leaving sting more than she had ever anticipated.

But she pushed the feeling aside. It was best to part on good terms, especially now that her decision was made.

In the stillness of the night, she awoke parched and went to pour a glass of water. As she passed the living room, she noticed the bathroom light was still on and instinctively turned it off.

The sudden, sharp scream of a woman shattered the silence, leaving her frozen in place.

Moments later, the sharp click of the living room light echoed through the silence. Raiden stepped in, his eyes narrowing as they landed on her.

“What are you doing out here?”

Perhaps realizing the harshness of his tone, he softened it, though not by much. “The child is already asleep. What if you woke him?”

Before she could respond, the bathroom door creaked open.

Out stepped Norella, clad in a white bathrobe, her hair still damp, her face flushed from the warmth of the shower.

Without a second thought, Raiden grabbed a coat from the sofa and draped it over her shoulders.

“Norella’s power went out. I brought her over. You don’t mind, do you?”

Astrella felt the weight of his words, cold and dismissive. He wasn’t asking for permission; he was claiming his ground and asserting himself as the one in control.

He didn’t need her approval. He never had.

Their son, Reaghan, emerged from his room and the Ultraman toy was clutched tightly in his chubby fingers. His small hands rubbed at his eyes with an air of impatience.

“Dad, Aunt Norella, what are you doing here? I’m still waiting for you to tell me a story.”

Without even sparing a glance at Astrella, he turned and shuffled back toward his room.

Through the narrow crack in the door, his voice floated back, whiny and demanding. “Hurry up!”