Son Wants a New Mom, Dad Says Denied

I stayed in the bedroom for a long time, until the noise outside finally died down.

Someone knocked softly on the door.

"Honey, can you open up? I made dinner—all your favorites."

Caden's voice came through the door, careful and pleading, but I ignored him.

"I made that little brat stand out on the balcony to think about what he did. He knows he messed up. He's crying and begging to apologize to you.

"Honey, please don't be mad anymore. You can hit me, yell at me, whatever you want. Just don't shut me out.

"Beatrice…"

His voice got quieter and quieter until I could barely hear the catch in his throat. Something squeezed in my chest. This man had been devoted to me since college, spoiling me rotten.

In seven years of marriage, we'd barely even argued. He took care of all the heavy lifting, made me tea when I had my period, and remembered every single one of our anniversaries.

He was a golden boy, a CEO who commanded respect at work, but he was willing to drop all of that for me. How could I actually leave him?

I wiped my tears and opened the door. Caden stood there with red-rimmed eyes. When he saw me, relief washed over his face, and he pulled me into a tight hug.

"You scared me to death." He buried his face in my shoulder, his voice muffled.

I patted his back and said quietly, "I'm hungry."

"Right, let's eat. Come on." He quickly led me to the dining room.

The table was covered with food, all my favorites, but Felix wasn't there. The offending earring was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Felix?" I asked.

"Still on the balcony." Caden ladled soup into my bowl. "Letting him think about it a bit longer."

I didn't say anything else and just ate quietly. The warmth spread through my stomach, and the ice around my heart seemed to thaw a little.

We ate the entire meal in unusual silence.

After dinner, Caden went to the balcony and hauled Felix back inside.

The kid had been out in the cold wind. His eyes were swollen and puffy from crying, his nose was red, and he looked utterly pitiful.

The moment he came in, he ran over and threw himself at my feet.

"Mommy, I was wrong!" He grabbed my legs and cried so hard he could barely breathe. "I shouldn't have said those things to you. Please don't leave me. Don't divorce Daddy!"

I looked down at him, feeling a mess of emotions. "Felix, tell me. What exactly did you do wrong?"

"I-I shouldn't have said you weren't pretty. I shouldn't have told you to get out of the house. I shouldn't have wanted Ms. Sulvan to be my mom…" he sobbed, his eyes darting around nervously.

Then he said in a squeaky, unconvincing voice, "Mommy, you're the prettiest. You're a hundred times prettier than Ms. Sulvan!"

When he hurt me, he really hurt me. And when he lied, it was just as obvious.

"Is that so?" I asked flatly. "But earlier you said your classmates all laughed at me for looking like a maid, didn't you?"

Felix's crying stopped short. His little face turned bright red.

Caden spoke up from the side, his voice low. "I already called Tommy's dad. Tomorrow I'm going to the school myself to have a chat with your homeroom teacher and those kids who've been running their mouths."

He put particular emphasis on "have a chat". I could just picture Caden's cold face looming over a bunch of six-year-olds.

Felix's face went from red to pale and back again. Finally, his pudgy little hands twisted together. "Daddy, do you have to go to school…"

Halfway through the sentence, Caden shot him a look. Felix ducked his head and went completely silent. Looking at their matching guilty expressions, I let out a long sigh.

"Felix." I pulled him up off the floor and looked him straight in the eye.

"I can let this go, and I won't get divorced. But you need to remember something—I do things for you because I love you. That doesn't mean you get to take it for granted or treat me like garbage."

I glanced around at our neat, well-kept home and said calmly, "Since you think the old me wasn't good enough, I'll change.

"From now on, you handle your own business. Dress yourself, pick up your own toys, and check your own homework. I'm not going to spend 24 hours a day revolving around you anymore."

Felix nodded, not quite understanding.

Caden came over and wrapped his arms around me from behind. He looked at Felix and said, "And if you ever make your mother upset again, it's the shoehorn. Got it?"

"Got it," Felix answered quietly.

The family storm triggered by a single earring seemed to settle down after that. The misunderstanding was cleared up, and Felix apologized.

Caden became even more attentive, practically glued to my side, terrified I'd actually pack up and leave one day.

But the hurt was still there. And my dear son clearly wasn't done either.

He just switched to a more roundabout strategy to continue his grand plan of getting a new mom.