The Woman He Destroyed Was the One Who Saved Him

To purify her filthy thoughts, they said.

The second time, when she was close to her due date, Eileen sent away every doctor in the house. My mother hemorrhaged and was rushed to the emergency room.

The baby didn't make it. And the damage left behind was irreversible.

My father barely scolded Eileen. A few token words, nothing more.

All she had to do was shed a couple of tears, and he melted.

To make it up to her, he postponed his meetings and took her on a vacation abroad.

Leaving my mother, who had just lost her child, alone at home.

This time, the doctors had been very clear: given my mother's condition, if anything else went wrong, she would never be able to have children again.

From the moment she found out she was pregnant until just a few days ago, my mother had been impossibly careful. She hadn't even dared to step outside.

It was her therapist who finally convinced her to go for a walk, worried that staying cooped up would do more harm than good. And that walk led straight to disaster.

I couldn't stand it. I grabbed the phone and screamed at whoever was on the other end：“You evil woman! This is all your fault! Stop pretending you care——ah!”

Before I could finish, my brother kicked me to the ground.

“Look what that woman turned you into! You're just a kid and you're already this vicious!”

My mother dragged herself out of bed, swaying, and threw herself over me.

“If you want to hurt someone, hurt me! Don't touch her!”

She so rarely fought back like that. The fierceness of it caught my brother off guard, and for a moment he had nothing to say.

My father's brow furrowed, displeasure carved into every line of his face. He pointed at me and snapped：“You ungrateful brat! Who raised you to be this heartless?!”

Then he turned on my mother：“Violet, you're not fit to raise a child. Tomorrow I'm sending her to live with Eileen. You can have some peace and quiet for a while.”

My mother clutched me to her chest and screamed through her tears：“You already took one of my children away from me! I will not let you take her too!”

My father ignored her. He called the servants over and told them to pull me away.

“Let go of her! Don't take her!”

My mother let out a raw, broken scream. Then her body went limp, and she collapsed.

“Mom!”

She didn't wake up until the following afternoon.

After that scene, my father, for once, took back his order. He didn't mention sending me away again.

But before he left, he leaned in close and warned me never to cause trouble again.

Otherwise, daughter or not, he wouldn't go easy on me.

I sat watching my mother's pale profile and found myself thinking about what I'd once overheard, the story of how my parents used to be.

My father and mother had known each other since childhood. Sweethearts since they were young.

After college, she married him against her family's wishes, even though he still carried the stigma of being born out of wedlock.

She stood by him as he built everything from nothing. They went from a cramped rental to a mansion, and along the way, they had my brother.

For a while, they were the couple everyone envied.

Then, just as life was getting better, my father's business fell apart overnight.

A rival stole his project. Investors pulled out. The entire company's cash flow collapsed in a single day.

Everything was chaos.

And right when our family needed my mother most, someone photographed her walking into a hotel with my father's fiercest business rival.

My father sat in their room and waited for her all night.

All he got was a set of divorce papers.

“You can't give me the life I want. Let's end this.”

After that day, she left everything behind and went to be with that man.

I was too young to understand. But as I grew older, I heard what people said. They called my mother a vain, heartless woman who abandoned her family.

She never explained herself. Not once. She just sat quietly, staring out the window.

I was still lost in thought when a loud crash came from outside the door.

My brother barged in, a crowd of people trailing behind him.

He glanced at my mother on the bed, his brow creasing：“She's still not awake.”