One Goodbye Is Enough

My husband did not love me, and he certainly did not love our child.

On the day our son was born, he did not even glance at him. He merely tossed him into my arms.

Then, his first love came back from overseas.

That night, the ever-cold Henry had gotten drunk for the first time. He even smiled as he held our child in his arms.

Delighted, our son wrapped his little arms around my husband's neck and asked me in a soft voice, “Mommy, what’s wrong with Uncle?”

I crouched down, pulling him into my embrace. My eyes reddened as I explained, “Uncle's favorite person came back, so we shouldn’t bother him anymore. We’re going to find a new home.”

I took my son to his room to sleep. After that, I returned to the guest room to open my laptop and start drafting the divorce agreement.

This year marked the seventh year of my marriage to Henry.

It was also the seventh year of us living apart.

Now, I had finally decided to let go of him.

Knock knock.

I opened the door to see my seven-year-old son holding a toy airplane.

“Mommy, are we really going to move away?”

He looked at me, his eyes full of reluctance.

“But Uncle Parker hugged me tonight. Does that mean he likes me now?”

I froze for a moment, a little dazed.

Even after seven years of marriage, Henry never allowed our son to call him ‘Daddy’.

When our son was two, Henry took him to the supermarket. On the way, they ran into an acquaintance.

When our son accidentally called him ‘Daddy’, Henry put him down and made him walk home.

By the time they got home, our son had fallen countless times, and his knees and palms were scraped raw.

When our son was four, he begged Henry to take him to the amusement park for a long time.

However, once again, Henry let go of his hand at the park because our son casually called him ‘Daddy’.

That was how my four-year-old child got swallowed up by the huge crowd.

When they finally found him, our son was hiding in a bush, crying so hard he could barely breathe.

After that, our son started calling him ‘Uncle Parker’, and our family became a complete joke.

My nose tingled with pain at the thought of this. I could not help but pull my son into my arms.

“Lyle, Uncle Parker’s favourite person is coming back. We can’t stay in this house any longer.”

His eyes dimmed, but he hurriedly held up the airplane model in front of me.

“But Mommy, Uncle Parker gave me a gift tonight. If he didn’t like me, why would he give me a gift?”

His expression was so desperate. He was trying to prove that his father really loved him.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

What was I supposed to say?

How could I say it?

Should I tell