Our Thirtieth Wedding Anniversary is His First Love’s Birthday

###Chapter 7

“We found a severely injured child. He’s in critical condition. We believe he may be your grandson, Leo Hawthorne. Please come to the hospital immediately to confirm!”

No. No!

Leo was my life. Nothing could happen to him.

I rushed out of the house like a madwoman—only to crash straight into Richard at the door. His eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging at his temples like a beast driven mad.

“Go apologize to Margareth.” He seized my wrist, his grip so tight that it nearly crushed the bone. “Do you have any idea she almost died? She’s still being resuscitated!”

Crying, I clutched at him. “Leo’s been hurt! He’s at the hospital. Please, save him first!”

“Shut up!” he roared. “Hermione, do you have any bottom line at all using your own grandson as an excuse?”

He dragged me violently toward the car.

“I’m not lying! Leo—”

A hard slap struck my face. My vision went black. He shoved me into the car and a bodyguard sealed my mouth with tape.

At the hospital, the sharp smell of disinfectant filled the air.

My son and daughter were already there. Richard had actually mobilized all the hospital’s top specialists, crowding them into Margareth’s emergency room.

Down the corridor, a small body covered in blood, face unrecognizable, was rushed past on a stretcher.

Medical staff shouted urgently, “The child needs surgery immediately! How much longer will the people inside take?”

Staring at that small body soaked in blood, my heart seemed to stop.

I struggled wildly, muffled cries breaking from my throat. “Leo…!”

Richard saw the blood-covered child too. His steps faltered for a brief second.

Just then, my son frowned and said, “I just spoke to Dyna. The two kids are vacationing at a classmate’s villa. They’re perfectly fine. Mom, just to get Dad’s attention, you’d even curse your own grandson?”

My daughter’s eyes were filled with disappointment. “Have you really become this vicious, just to drive Auntie away?”

The last trace of doubt in Richard’s eyes vanished, replaced by icy disgust. “If you keep talking nonsense, I’ll have you sent to a psychiatric hospital!”

Tears streamed down my face. I dropped to my knees, bowing over and over, knocking my forehead against the floor in desperate pleas.

He merely gave the bodyguards a look.

I was dragged into an empty hospital room nearby and locked inside. No matter how I pounded on the door or begged, there was only dead silence outside.

I didn't know how long passed before voices sounded beyond the door.

“Congratulations. The patient is out of danger.”

Almost at the same time, from farther down the corridor came a doctor’s exhausted, heavy sigh.

“The child wasn’t treated in time… Time of death confirmed.”

The world collapsed with a roar in my ears.

Through the crack of the door, I saw Richard’s tightly furrowed brows relax, light returning to his eyes. My son and daughter wore relieved smiles as well.

They were celebrating that woman’s “rebirth.”

And Leo—my little sun—had died on that cold stretcher.

At last, the bodyguard unlocked the door.

I collapsed onto the floor and suddenly began to laugh. The sound was hoarse, shattered, almost inhuman.

Richard glanced back unintentionally and met my frenzied smile. Something in his chest jolted.

Could it be…?

No. Our son had confirmed it. It was this woman making trouble, lying again.

He forced down the flicker of unease and strode into the ward, taking Margareth’s hand, his voice gentle, “It’s all over now. At the banquet in two days, I’ll make it even more grand for you.”

Inside me, there was nothing left but the fire of revenge.

***

I claimed Leo’s body.

After the cremation, I had his ashes compressed into a tiny diamond and wore it at my neck, resting closest to my heart.

Two days later, the luxury yacht glittered with lights. Margareth’s birthday banquet was held in extravagant splendor.

Someone quietly turned on a livestream.

On camera, a man well past fifty knelt on one knee on the deck, slipping a massive diamond ring onto her finger, his gaze filled with devotion.

My son and daughter-in-law smiled and applauded. “Congratulations, Dad, on finding the love of your life again.”

My daughter wiped away emotional tears, captured in a close-up shot.

I watched the screen of my phone in silence, the corner of my lips curving into a cold arc.

A message came from Margareth—a photo of Richard passionately kissing her.

[The love returns to its rightful owner. Thank you for thirty years of free nanny service.]

I calmly deleted the message, touched the ashes-diamond resting against my heart and walked out of the villa that had imprisoned me for half my life—for the last time.

A black sedan had been waiting for a while. I got in, opened my email, selected several files and scheduled them to be sent at midnight.

“Happy 30th anniversary.”

I removed my SIM card, snapped it in half and tossed it out the window like something no longer wanted.

At that very moment, Richard was absently rubbing the velvet box in his pocket. Inside was a pair of pearl earrings that I had glanced at a few times while shopping before. He had someone purchase them, intending them as compensation for our thirtieth anniversary.

He knew I had always been easy to appease. He believed a little sweetness like this would be more than enough to coax me.

Imagining the look of surprise on my face when I received the earrings, Richard unconsciously curved his lips into a faint smile.

He had no idea that when the clock struck midnight and the magic of the night dissolved, he would receive the most “magnificent” gift of his life.

And my flight was already heading toward a dawn that no longer held him.