Chapter 4

I drifted helplessly into Mom's room. She had just stepped out of the shower and was standing in front of the mirror, applying various creams and lotions to her face. But the moment her fingers touched a high-end bottle of toner, her movements froze.

I remembered that bottle. I had bought it as a birthday present for her earlier this year, using the money I had earned from my part-time job.

Truth be told, Mom was usually very frugal. Except when it came to Zack, Mom was stingy with everyone, especially herself. The skincare products she used were cheap, generic ones for a few bucks.

When I visited my classmates' homes and saw the luxury brands their mothers used, I silently noted the names. During winter break, I worked non-stop for a whole month just to save up enough money to buy her that single bottle.

Mom was momentarily stunned when I handed the gift. But before she could process it, Zack shoved his way forward, snatched the bottle right out of her hands, and put on an exaggerated, mock-concerned face.

"Cody, I know you're super vain, but Mom isn't like that. You bought a fake knockoff just to show off. What if it ruins Mom's skin?"

The look of pleasant surprise on Mom's face instantly cracked at Zack's words, replaced by disgust as she looked at me.

Panicking, I tried desperately to explain that I had bought it directly at the department store counter with money from my part-time job. In my desperate rush to defend myself, I looked every bit like a guilty criminal.

Instead of listening, Mom spoke up, her tone cold.

"I thought you were just vain and got scammed, but you're actually sitting here lying through your teeth. I am so disappointed in you!"

With that, Mom tossed the expensive toner aside. Right on cue, Zack stepped forward, offering a peeled grapefruit to Mom with a flattering smile.

"Happy birthday, Mom! I don't have much to give you, but I made this with all my love. I hope you live a long and healthy life!"

I stared at that cheap grapefruit. I was the one who had carefully peeled every bit of that skin off for him, only for him to turn around and hand it to Mom as his own gift.

Mom's eyes crinkled with joy. She pulled Zack into a tight embrace, beaming with pride.

"You really are the thoughtful one, Zack, unlike some people. I don't care about expensive gifts. It's the thought that counts."

In that single moment, I felt like a total clown.

I was the one who bought the skincare bottle. I was the one who peeled the grapefruit. So how did I end up as the vain, selfish liar?

Mom didn't throw the toner away after that. Instead, she placed it front and center on her vanity. For a long time, I foolishly hoped she had realized it was authentic. But then, in front of the entire family, she delivered a righteous lecture.

"Our family might not be dirt poor, but we aren't rich either. We don't need luxury items to put on airs, and buying fakes is even more disgraceful. This bottle stays right here so all of you remember the lesson. Vanity is the most shameful trait you can have!"

Even though she addressed the entire table, her eyes were locked onto me.

My face flushed, not out of shame, but out of helpless despair from being falsely accused.

As I watched her now, I wondered why she had packed that bottle for her trip. Right on cue, she muttered to her reflection in the mirror.

"Why did I even bring this with me? It must be that brat Cody trying to make a fool out of me on vacation!"

Cursing under her breath, Mom tossed the toner into the trash can.

When she slandered me back then, I thought it was just Zack manipulating her, driving a wedge between us. I made excuses for her favoritism, telling myself it made sense for parents to shower more affection on the youngest, weakest child.

However, seeing the brutal truth right before my eyes destroyed every single lie I had ever told myself.

It was never a birthday gift from a son to his mother, but a stain of embarrassment branded onto her heart. And I was nothing more than the shameful son she couldn't stand, the one who never deserved an ounce of affection.

I let out a bitter laugh, finally feeling a strange sense of release.

The maternal love I had spent years desperately craving was nothing more than a cage I had locked myself inside.

The truth was: some parents really just don't love their children.