Rejected Wife's New Start

When Elyse Montgomery, the rising starlet, was suddenly exposed for having a history of bullying in school, my husband, Raymond Reed, grabbed me by the hair and slammed my head against the wall.

"Elyse is still young. We can't let something like this ruin her future. But you're already an established actress; taking the blame for Elyse won't hurt you much."

Ninety-eight times—my life was hanging by a thread, and eventually, I forgot everything about my past and was led to believe I was the notorious bully everyone despised.

I took the blame for Elyse, transforming from a once-celebrated actress to the town's outcast. The moment I was shoved into traffic by a mob of angry fans, I heard my six-year-old son cheer with delight, "Yay! That meddling witch is finally gone. I want the pretty lady to be my new mommy!"

Miraculously surviving against all odds and beginning anew with a clean slate, the husband and son who had once loathed me now knelt at my door, eyes full of unspoken questions.

"How could you just forget us?"

---

After finishing the discharge paperwork, I returned to my hospital room to find two almost identical men, one grown and one small, standing by my bed.

Noticing me, the smaller one darted over like a firecracker, throwing a fit right in front of me.

"Why are you leaving the hospital today? Today is Elyse's big award ceremony, and it's all your fault! Dad and I can't be there for her!"

"I don't want you as my mom! I told Dad not to pick you up. I want to go to the award show! If you hadn't survived that accident, Elyse could have been my mom!"

His blatant disdain pierced me in ways I couldn't articulate. But more than anything, I was bewildered.

How did I suddenly have this irrational child and a husband who seemed so indifferent? And if they were indeed my family, why hadn't they been with me through my severe injuries and close calls with death, only to show up now when I'm recovering?

Before I could make sense of it all, the loud child on the floor had irritated other patients, drawing complaints.

Squelching my confusion, I asked the man to control his son, only for him to reverse the situation.

"Celine, haven't you always claimed that you love your son the most? How can you stand by now when he's upset like this?"

As he spoke, he tried to pass the still-crying child to me.

"Aren't you aware you're disturbing others? Celine, it's one thing to let yourself down, but don't drag him down with you."

Whispers filled the room, and this unreasonable father-son duo were testing my limits.

Biting back my frustration, I pushed the child away with enough force to send him stumbling. He looked at me in disbelief, momentarily forgetting to cry.

The man, having witnessed the scene, finally spoke, massaging the bridge of his nose with clear irritation.

"Enough... if you