The Scattering of Love

Mike cast me a cold glance, but his hand clutched Jennifer's tightly, and in his arms, he steadily held a little boy around four years old.

That gentle, doting expression of his stung my eyes and made them ache with tears.

"Sorry, I’m going to settle Jennifer and Oliver first. You can head home," he said.

His voice carried not a trace of warmth. He didn't spare Melanie even a single look—his gaze remained locked on Oliver from beginning to end.

Thinking of this, I shut my eyes in despair, my heart filled with bitterness.

After washing Melanie’s face and coaxing her to sleep with great difficulty, I noticed her tiny brows still furrowed tightly.

Even in her dreams, she murmured softly, “Daddy, I want a hug…”

That faint voice was like a sharp needle piercing straight into my already shattered heart.

I couldn’t help but wonder—if it hadn’t been for that absurd night four years ago, maybe Melanie could have grown up carefree like any other child, wrapped in her father’s love, without suffering such injustice and pain.

The days from four years ago still haunted me like a nightmare.

Back then, Mike and my father were close. Though he was barely older than me, his talent and drive had forged a deep bond between them—one that left me secretly pining for him for ten long years.

No one could understand the bittersweet ache of it, except my father, who saw it all and felt sorry for me.

At last, he gritted his teeth and made a bold, outrageous decision—he drugged Mike and, while he was in a dazed state, sent him straight into my bed.

When I saw what happened, I widened my eyes in shock, my voice trembling. “Dad, are you trying to kill me?”

My father let out a heavy sigh, his eyes full of helplessness and affection.

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen it all—how much you love Mike. I could tell he had feelings for you too, but he’s just too stubborn to admit it.”

He paused, seemingly remembering something, then continued, “He was drunk that day, and I even heard him mumble your name. My heart was burning with anxiety. Seeing you two dragging things out, I decided to give you a push.”

I was both furious and horrified, filled with resistance. Just as I was about to scold him for his recklessness, an intense wave of heat surged through me like a tidal wave.

I turned to my father in panic, only to see him smirking slyly.

“Sweetheart, I added something to your drink too. Make the most of tonight,” he said.

With that, he turned and slammed the door shut, locking it with a loud bang.

When that night finally ended, Mike slowly woke up.

His eyes shifted from dazed confusion to icy coldness in an instant.

He looked at me with cold eyes and said, “Shannon, I’ll be responsible. I’ll marry you.”

At that moment, my heart swelled with complicated emotions.

I was secretly overjoyed by his promise, but also filled with anxiety over how it all began.

I thought that maybe I was going to live a happy life, but reality turned out to be far crueler than I had imagined.

One encounter at a gathering shattered my fragile hope like a bolt of lightning.

I had unintentionally overheard him talking with a friend.

The friend’s voice was tinged with disappointment and frustration.

“Mike, man, don’t you know how lucky you are? That girl, Shannon, she’s got the looks, the figure, the money—and most importantly, she’s head over heels for you. Just settle down with her already.”

Mike took a drag from his cigarette, a cold smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

But that smile was sharp as a blade.